Dust hung in the air like memories frozen in time. Zarek stood alone in an abandoned house, the floorboards creaking beneath his boots as he stared at a worn photograph. The edges were frayed, the colors faded, but the faces were etched into his mind: four of them — two boys, a girl, and their mother. The youngest, barely five, clung to life with wide, innocent eyes. The eldest was sixteen, their sister. He was twelve, the middle child. Their mother smiled in the picture, oblivious to the darkness that would later descend on them.“I’m back,” Zarek said, voice low, eyes still glued to the photograph.This house had once been full of laughter. Now it was empty and silent, a hollow shell. Still, the memories refused to stay buried.He remembered the attack as if it had happened yesterday.“Run! Go! Take them!” his mother had shouted, stepping between them and the intruders. “I’ll hold them off. Don’t stop!”His sister scooped up the youngest, small arms trembling but determined.

At three o’clock, a sleek black car rolled up to the front of The Wave Estate Resort. Its tires whispered on the driveway; the engine was quiet but powerful.The vehicle stopped. The driver stepped out, adjusted his gloves, then straightened his jacket. With a practiced motion, he opened the rear door.From the back seat, Zarek emerged, his coat flaring behind him like a shadow. He stepped onto the driveway, boots clicking against stone, gaze fixed on the sprawling resort. Calm and composed, he took in the building; every detail was sharp in his eyes.Turning slightly, he asked the man beside him, voice steady, “Is this the place? Can I find them here?”The man swallowed and glanced nervously at the extravagant façade. “It’s… where we were told, sir. But it doesn’t exactly look like the Ashbourne family’s home.”Zarek didn’t answer at once. His eyes stayed cold, scanning the estate as if calculating every possible move before stepping inside.The man stiffened and dropped into a low

The women were staring at him wide-eyed since he had managed to take down one of the strongest groups on his own, and not only that, his body had moved so quickly and smoothly.To Zarek, he had just fought them like that without going too hard so that their bodies didn't hit the innocent women in the pool.And now, he was leaning down, looking at the leader and wanting to know where Darian Veyron was.After all, they seemed knowledgeable about the man.Zarek’s hand shot out, grabbing the leader by the collar.GRAB!The man’s eyes went wide as his feet lifted off the ground, dangling helplessly.His weight didn’t seem to faze Zarek in the slightest; he held him up effortlessly with one hand, as if the man weighed nothing at all.“Where is Darian Veyron?” Zarek repeated, his voice low, sharp, and unyielding.The leader’s jaw dropped, disbelief and fear twisting his features. “I… I… I don’t know what—how—?”Zarek’s grip tightened slightly, just enough to send a clear warning.“Don’t play

Zarek stopped midstep and turned his gaze to the new arrivals, calm and unbothered. His voice cut through the murmurs like a blade.“And who exactly are you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, curiosity sharper than threat.The first man forward was Roland, the leader of the group and the one Damian had contacted directly. Irritation and disbelief softened into a flicker of begrudging acknowledgment as he studied Zarek.So this was the man Damian was wary of: handsome, strong, and honed by countless fights, yet oddly unscarred.Roland’s jaw tightened as he took him in. Zarek stood almost too flawless, too composed, in the wreckage of his men.Roland stepped closer, fists clenching at his sides. “Quiet,” he barked, silencing the murmuring crowd behind him. His gaze bore into Zarek, sharp and unwavering. “How dare you ask us who we are?”Zarek didn’t flinch. He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable, as if the question itself were beneath him.Roland’s teeth clenched.

Roland’s voice cracked, his body trembling uncontrollably.“Fine… fine! It was… it was Damian! He sent me! Please… please don’t—”Zarek’s brows lifted as he waited for more. He hadn’t done anything to provoke this before the men attacked him. Perhaps the person who sent them was one of the people he was looking for. He couldn’t take any chances.Darian’s eyes snapped wide, an alarm flashing across his face. Damian… his son? The words hit him like a thunderclap.Roland’s desperation surged; tears streaked his bloodied cheeks. “I’ll… I’ll tell you everything about the young man! I swear! Just… just don’t—please!”Before he could finish, a sharp whistle split the air.A knife, swift and deadly, struck the back of Roland’s throat. Blood sprayed as his scream was cut off. His body went limp, eyes wide in shock; the words died on his lips.The room fell into stunned silence. Murmurs stopped mid-sentence; faces froze in horror and disbelief. Some gasped and backed away, others stumbled to