Jones Morello had no choice but to explain, his voice low and hesitant, "Yes… Jaden and your brother had a grudge because of a construction project. He didn’t dare face your brother head-on, so he went crawling to Morix Sable, the underworld lord in the Eastern District. Together, they ambushed him and took his life. Now, Sable has seized everything your brother built—every inch of his business is under Morix’s thumb."The room turned suffocating. Skybreaker’s expression darkened, shadows crawling over his face like storm clouds. His gaze swept the trio in front of him, sharp enough to strip flesh from bone. Nobody could tell whether he was addressing them or simply voicing the rage clawing at his chest when he muttered, each word ground out like steel on stone, "Who the hell is Morix Sable to kill my brother? Trash like him dares to touch my blood? I’ll cut his name from this world."His voice dropped into a growl, colder than winter steel. "I’ll never let him off."The silence crack

The group of visitors could only leave the scene reluctantly, casting nervous glances at the glowing lights of Silver Sand Resort. Once outside, whispers began to spread like wildfire."Do you think Jaden and Morix will show up?" one man muttered."They have no choice," another replied grimly. "Skybreaker doesn’t forgive insults. If they don’t come tonight, he’ll burn their families to ashes."Jones Morello sneered, his voice dripping with scorn. "I’ve seen Skybreaker’s temper before. That man doesn’t threaten without following through. Jaden Rift and Morix Sable are as good as dead. Either they show up and kneel, or their bloodlines will be erased."At precisely nine o’clock, the growl of engines broke through the murmurs of the crowd gathered outside. A black Rolls-Royce led the way, followed closely by two sleek Audis. The convoy pulled into the car park of the Silver Sand Resort, the chrome glinting beneath the floodlights.When the car doors opened, Jaden stepped out first, calm

Adrenaline surged through the crowd like wildfire, burning away fear and replacing it with numb awe. Nobody could breathe properly. Jaden wasn’t just strong—he was terrifying. Even Skybreaker, who prided himself on being untouchable, couldn’t hide the shock in his eyes. He hadn’t expected Murder Mike to fall so quickly, so cleanly, like nothing more than a stepping stone under Jaden’s boots.But pride was a poison, and Skybreaker swallowed it down with a cold smirk. Slowly, deliberately, he rose to his feet, dusting off his coat as though nothing had rattled him. His gaze fixed on Jaden, heavier and sharper now, like steel grinding against steel."Hmph. Seems I underestimated you," he said, voice dripping with disdain. "You actually managed to take out Murder Mike. Impressive. But don’t fool yourself. You won’t walk out of here alive. I’ll be the one to send you straight to hell."The audience shivered. They had heard this tone before—the tone Skybreaker used before he buried someone

In a low voice, Morix finally broke the silence."Sir… why did you let them off? If they had won tonight, do you think they’d have shown us mercy?"Jaden sighed."We already cut off the head of the snake. Their bosses are dead. These underlings don’t matter."He narrowed his eyes, his words heavy with calculation. "Better to send them crawling back. Let the whole world hear that Skybreaker died by my hand. Once that news spreads, fear will do the rest. No one will dare test us for a long time."Morix’s jaw tightened, but after a moment he lowered his head."Understood, Sir."The night at the resort settled into silence, broken only by the faint echoes of retreating footsteps. The two coffins, now filled with the bodies of Murder Mike and Skybreaker, had been carried away. The scent of blood still lingered in the air, but the hall belonged solely to Jaden now.---Meanwhile, in Jones Morello’s lavish mansion, the atmosphere was festive. Champagne bottles had already been placed on ice,

A few bodyguards instantly tightened their stance, hands hovering near their weapons as they kept Petro in their sights.Even Jones and the Verrick brothers, seated comfortably on the leather sofa moments ago, shifted forward with interest.Petro smirked, a crooked grin that revealed more madness than warmth. Without being asked, he unbuttoned his shirt and spread it open.Gasps rippled across the room.His torso was a battlefield map—jagged knife scars crisscrossing his flesh, bullet holes turned into puckered welts, and deep grooves from shrapnel burns that had never healed clean. Even the faint outline of grenade fragment wounds marred his chest and ribs.The bodyguards stared, their confidence faltering. One of them audibly gulped. None of them had seen a man who carried his wars with him like a suit of armor.Everyone knew it instantly. This wasn’t a man who told war stories. This was a man who had survived them.Petro, noticing the shift in their expressions, tilted his head in