Location: Tavara – Blackthorn Hills
Victor, Damien's most trusted security chief, adjusted the collar of his coat as the icy wind swept across Blackthorn Hills. The location was remote, miles away from the city lights, yet tonight it served as the meeting ground for some of the most powerful underworld lords in the hemisphere. All summoned by Damien himself.
Inside the heavily guarded mountain lodge, Damien stood before a digital board, displaying moving data, images, and strategic territories. Nora sat beside him, silent but observant, her gaze sharper than any blade in the room. Behind her, Lieutenant Zara and Andre stood on alert.
"This isn't just about reclaiming what was stolen," Damien's voice cut through the tense air. "It's about reshaping the order."
A ripple passed through the room as the lords glanced at each other. Some had previously opposed Damien, others feared him. But tonight, none dared speak out.
Suddenly, a familiar face stepped forward—Lucian Virelli, the Italian cartel's enigmatic leader. His presence always brought tension. "You're asking for allegiance, Damien. But where were you when our borders were bleeding?"
Damien stepped forward calmly. "I was building something bigger. And now, I'm giving you a chance to be part of it—or be erased."
The quiet threat hung in the air.
Before Lucian could respond, an explosion rocked the rear of the compound.
Zara barked into her comm, "All units, breach detected—Sector 4! Protect the package!"
Damien's eyes narrowed. He turned to Nora, "Stay behind me."
"No," she said sharply. "I fight with you."
They rushed toward the back corridor, weapons drawn. Smoke curled down the hallway as armed intruders in black tactical gear swarmed in. But they hadn't expected the full wrath of Damien and his elite.
With precision and lethal elegance, Damien struck like a phantom, his moves coordinated with Nora's. They flowed like a deadly storm. Each motion, each shot, was synchronized.
By the time backup arrived, a dozen invaders lay motionless, and Damien stood soaked in sweat, staring at the man he had just unmasked—an agent from the same shadow syndicate that tried to kill him years ago.
"Still alive?" Damien hissed.
The intruder coughed blood, smirking. "You can't stop what's already begun."
Damien's fists clenched. Whatever this syndicate was planning—it had just escalated.