Chapter 173: A Declaration of War

“What movie is this?” Leitana asked, rubbing slow circles over her stomach with a soft, dreamy smile.

One hand rested protectively over her growing belly, something the maids had begun to notice more and more lately. Not just the smiling (Leitana was almost always smiling), but the quiet way she touched her stomach, like she was already talking to the baby.

Maya glanced at the large screen.

“Um, it’s a new one called Thrash. It’s horror though… lots of blood and screaming. You sure you want this one, miss?”

Leitana nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling.

“Mi no mind. Back in Vanuatu we no get television like dis. Dis one look scary but exciting!”

The movie had barely started when Leitana suddenly felt it.

A presence.

She turned her head.

And froze.

Standing in the doorway was Ravial.

And beside him,

Marita.

Her best friend.

The girl she had grown up with from babyhood.

For a full second, Leitana simply stared, her mind refusing to believe what her eyes were seeing.

Then Marita screamed.

“LEITANA!!!”

The maids winced.

Marita bolted forward.

Leitana shot up from the couch at the same time, and the two collided in the middle of the room, crashing into each other in a fierce, desperate hug.

“Oh mi God!” Leitana cried, tears spilling instantly down her cheeks as she squeezed her tight. “Yu here… yu really here! Mi miss yu so much!”

Marita hugged her just as hard, laughing and crying at the same time.

“Mi miss yu too! Every single day! An’ now yu pregnant! Look at yu belly small small but already growing!”

Leitana pulled back just enough to look at her friend’s face, still crying happy tears.

“How yu come here? Mi no understand…”

Marita grinned, wiping her eyes.

“Yu handsome husband! He send plane ticket an’ everything. Mother Superior tell me say Leitana missing Vanuatu an’ need her sister. Mi pack small bag and run!”

Leitana turned toward Ravial.

He was leaning casually against the doorway, watching them with quiet satisfaction.

Her chest tightened with emotion.

“Tank yu,” she whispered softly.

For a brief moment, the hard edge in Ravial’s expression softened, just for her.

Marita grabbed Leitana’s hand excitedly.

“Come, sit! Tell mi everything! Baby kicking yet? Yu eating well? Dis house too big, mi still shocked!”

Leitana laughed through her tears and allowed herself to be pulled back to the couch.

“I will tell yu everything,” she said warmly.

“But first… mi so happy yu here.”

Ravial watched them for another moment, the corner of his mouth slightly curved.

Then a voice spoke behind him.

“My lord.”

Lucius had appeared silently in the hallway.

“We have a problem.”

Ravial didn’t turn immediately.

“And what is that?”

Lucius stepped closer, lowering his voice.

“The warehouses… have been burnt down.”

The faint smile on Ravial’s face disappeared.

Ravial stood in front of the smoking ruins of Warehouse Five.

It was the fifth one to burn in a single night.

The massive structure was now nothing more than a blackened skeleton. Steel beams twisted like broken bones. The roof had collapsed inward, and thick smoke still rose into the cold Connecticut night.

All five out of his eight warehouses had been destroyed.

Warehouse One, the main drug storage facility holding millions in uncut products, was reduced to ash.

Warehouse Two, the underground armory packed with illegal weapons and ammunition, was completely destroyed.

Warehouse Three, the money laundering front disguised as an import-export business, was gone.

Warehouse Four and Five, specialized storage for rare artifacts, blackmail files, and offshore cash reserves, were wiped out in coordinated, professional fires.

The financial loss was enormous.

But the real damage was the message.

Ravial stood perfectly still, hands in his pockets, blindfold firmly in place.

Not a flicker of rage.

Not a trace of panic.

Only cold, calculating silence.

Lucius stood a respectful distance behind him.

“Arson,” Lucius reported quietly.

“Multiple ignition points. Accelerants designed to burn fast and clean. No fingerprints. No witnesses. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were targeting.”

Ravial’s gaze shifted slowly toward the only section of wall still standing.

There, spray-painted in bold black strokes, was a symbol.

A circle.

Three jagged lines cutting through it.

Intentional and Unfamiliar.

He stared at it in silence.

He did not recognize it.

That alone made the air feel heavier.

Lucius followed his gaze.

“We ran it through every database we have,” he said.

“No gang sign or cartel mark. No known organization. It’s new.”

Ravial’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.

“New,” he repeated softly.

He stepped closer to the charred wall, eyes locked on the symbol.

“Someone wants war.”

His voice dropped, calm and certain.

“And they want me to know they are not afraid.”

He turned back toward the car.

“Double the guards around the villa,” he ordered.

“No one gets near my most prized possession.”

Lucius bowed immediately.

“Yes, my lord.”

Ravial paused at the car door, glancing once more at the symbol burning against the blackened brick.

Five warehouses were destroyed.

Millions lost.

A declaration of war written in paint.

His smile widened slightly.

“War with a stranger,” he murmured.

A low, almost amused sound escaped him.

“Good.”

He slid into the car.

“I was getting bored.”

The engine roared to life, and the car pulled away into the night.

But Ravial had already begun planning exactly how he would make whoever drew that mark regret ever challenging him.