Location: Tavara – Damien's Private Estate, Midnight
The night was silent—unnervingly so.
Damien stood alone on the balcony of his private estate, dressed in a black silk shirt, sleeves rolled up, revealing the battle scars he rarely let anyone see. The moonlight reflected faintly off the sharp angles of his face, his jaw set firm as he stared into the dense woods bordering the estate.
Behind him, Nora entered quietly, barefoot, her silk robe flowing like whispered danger. She didn't need to speak—she felt it too. Something was wrong. A shift in the air, an unseen storm gathering.
"They're getting bolder," Damien murmured without turning. "The last breach attempt was only a distraction. Someone wants me out of Tavara."
Nora approached, resting her hand lightly on his arm. "Who do you suspect? The Sandoval Group? Or... your uncle in Zurich?"
Damien's eyes darkened. "Both. But there's a third hand in this now. A silent mover. One who's watching, not striking—yet."
Nora hesitated, then said quietly, "Your father left a message. A coded one. Hidden in that old journal. It mentioned someone... 'The Mirror.' Any idea who or what that is?"
Damien's muscles tensed. He turned to her fully now, his eyes sharp as blades. "The Mirror was a fail-safe identity. A persona used in high-risk operations—deep black missions no government would ever admit. Only four people knew of it... and two are already dead."
"Then the remaining two are..." Nora whispered.
"One is me," Damien said flatly. "The other vanished ten years ago."
Before Nora could respond, Damien's phone vibrated. Encrypted. Priority red.
He picked it up and read. A single line appeared:
"The Mirror has returned. Watch your blood."
His fingers tightened on the phone.
"That's not a warning," he said coldly. "It's a declaration."
From the shadows outside, movement stirred—barely detectable. Damien turned sharply, catching the silhouette of a figure darting through the trees. The estate's alarms remained dead silent.
"I need to go," he said to Nora, already moving to the exit. "Activate Red Protocol. And Nora—"
"Yes?"
"If anything happens to me… go to the vault under Grandbridge Bank. Everything we've built depends on what's inside."
Nora swallowed her fear and nodded. "Be careful, Damien."
He gave her one last look—a mix of steel and unspoken affection—then vanished into the dark.
Far beyond the estate, in a high-rise overlooking the Tavara skyline, a woman with piercing gray eyes watched Damien's every move through satellite feed.
"The game begins," she whispered, pressing her fingers together. "Let's see how far Damien King can fall."