Adrian's voice came out low and even. "What do you know about my father?""Ah. Now he talks." Damien grinned, turning to the crowd. "All it takes is daddy's name and the puppet starts moving."He looked back at Adrian, his eyes sharp. "I'll tell you everything I know. But only if you accept my challenge.""Don't." Kathy's voice came from Adrian's left. She had appeared beside him without a sound, her posture straight, her face carrying the kind of cold that could freeze a bonfire. "He's baiting you. He knows exactly what he's doing, and the moment you react, he wins."Adrian looked at her."Your father wouldn't want you walking into a trap because some spoiled child waved a shiny word in front of you," Kathy said, her tone flat and indifferent, as if Damien wasn't even worth the effort of raising her voice.Damien laughed. "And there she is. The ice queen with an opinion nobody asked for." He looked Kathy up and down. "Sweetheart, this is a conversation between men. Why don't you go f

Adrian sat on the edge of his bed with his shirt off, staring at the bruises mapped across his ribs and shoulders. Purple and black, shaped like fingerprints pressed into clay. Each one told him exactly where Damien's strikes had landed.Sarah stood in the doorway with a medical kit in one hand and her tablet in the other."You need to see a doctor," she said firmly. "Two of those bruises are deep tissue. If there's internal bleeding.""There's no internal bleeding." Adrian pressed two fingers against the worst bruise and didn't flinch. "It's muscle damage. Deep, but controlled. He knew exactly how hard to hit.""That's supposed to make me feel better?"Adrian reached for his phone on the nightstand. "Send me the recording."Sarah's jaw tightened. "Adrian.""The recording, Sarah."She sent it without another word.He played the video on his laptop, tilting the screen until the light caught every frame. The ballroom footage was clear, captured from three different angles by the estate'

"You always strike the left side first. Chest, shoulder junction, then the nerve cluster beneath the arm." Adrian spoke evenly, his eyes fixed on Damien's face. "The sequence restricts blood flow before disrupting the nervous system, which is why the body shuts down so quickly. It's effective. Brutal, even."Damien's smile widened. "Thank you for the analysis, professor.""But you have a problem." Adrian leaned forward slightly. "Repeated application on the same side damages the radial nerve pathway permanently. After fifteen to twenty uses, the striker's own hand begins losing fine motor control. The fingers start trembling during rest. Within two years, you won't be able to close your right fist completely."The smile dropped off Damien's face like a mask cut loose from its strings."That's not possible," Damien said. But his voice had changed. The arrogance was still there, but something underneath it had cracked. "My family has used this technique for generations. No one has ever.

Adrian grabbed his jacket and took the elevator to the ground floor. Chloe was standing near the reception desk with her purse clutched against her body like a shield. Her makeup was perfect, but her eyes were red at the edges. She had been crying recently and trying to hide it."Chloe," Adrian said.She turned to him. Her jaw was tight, her posture stiff, her chin lifted at the angle of a woman who would rather chew glass than admit she needed anything from anyone."I'm not here to ask for your help," she said immediately. Her voice was sharp but brittle underneath. "I want that to be clear.""Okay.""My creditors froze three of my accounts this morning. Two operating accounts and my personal reserve." She swallowed hard. "I can handle it. I've already contacted my lawyers and my financial advisor. I don't need you.""I didn't say you did."Chloe's eyes flashed. "This is your fault. You know that, right? You came back from prison and started tearing everything apart like a wrecking b

The facility sat behind a row of dead oak trees at the end of a road that didn't appear on any map Adrian had ever seen. The building was old, three stories of grey concrete with blacked out windows and a rusted chain link fence that someone had been maintaining just enough to keep standing.Damien stopped at the gate and turned around."This is as far as I planned to bring you," he said, his jaw tight. "What's inside is my family's responsibility. It has been for over twenty years.""Your family has been guarding a medical facility for twenty years," Adrian said, his voice flat, "and you never thought to mention it.""I'm mentioning it now.""After I followed you here." Adrian looked past him at the building. "What's inside, Damien?"Damien's hands went into his pockets. His shoulders dropped slightly, not with defeat but with the exhaustion of a man who had been carrying something too heavy for too long."Records," Damien said. "Equipment. Research that was supposed to have been des