From Prison scapegoat to a Multi-Trillionaire

Chapter 4: Damsel in distress

The truck groaned as Damien shifted gears, navigating the tree-lined boulevards of the Silverwood District. Less than an hour ago, he was breathing in the air of the slums; now, he was surrounded by towering glass skyscrapers, luxury boutiques, and five-star hotels. This was the playground of the city’s elite. The very people who had looked at the original Damien as if he were a stain on their expensive shoes.

Damien parked the rattling truck in the rear loading zone of the grand corporate tower belonging to Vance’s client.

His ribs were throbbing, a deep, persistent ache that would have sidelined an ordinary man.

But to Sean Riggs, this kind of discomfort was just a mere thing. He turned off the ignition, leaning his head back against the torn vinyl seat for a single, quiet moment.

Suddenly, a violent, high pitched sound reached his ears, shattering the silence of the cabin.

> [CRITICAL SYSTEM WARNING: Trial Task 3 Timeline Accelerated.]

> [Target Identified: Elena Sterling, eldest daughter of the Sterling Conglomerate.]

> [Current Status: High Probability of Assassination within 10 minutes. Location: 3rd Level Sub-Basement Parking Lot, Silverwood Plaza.]

> [Condition Reminder: Secure her survival while maintaining your 'Poor' civilian cover. Failure results in Soul Obliteration.]

Damien’s eyes snapped open, the fatigue instantly vanishing, replaced by the hyper-focused gaze of a veteran homicide detective.

'Elena Sterling.' He knew that name from the memories of the body’s previous life. She was the brilliant, fiercely capable heiress to one of the most powerful empires in the city. Yet, behind the glamorous headlines, she was an outcast within her own bloodline.

Her father and stepmother openly despised her, pouring all their affection, wealth, and power into her adopted sister, a manipulative woman named Clara. Elena was treated like an unwanted daughter, a threat to Clara's inheritance, kept around only to be exploited for her brilliant business mind.

And now, her own family had finally moved to erase her completely.

Damien didn't hesitate. He slipped out of the delivery truck, ignoring the agonizing protest of his bruised torso, and blended into the midday crowd. Moving with the practiced, invisibility of an undercover cop, he crossed the street toward Silverwood Plaza, bypassing the main lobby and slipping through a heavy fire door that led straight down into the sub-basement levels.

The air grew rapidly colder as he descended the stairs. By the time he reached the third sub-basement, the noise of the city had completely faded, replaced by the low hum of massive ventilation fans.

Through the dim light of the parking garage, Damien spotted a black Mercedes car. Standing beside the driver’s side door was a woman.

Even from a distance, Elena Sterling commanded attention. She wore a black suit that accentuated her elegant, slender frame. Her dark hair was swept up in a professional twist, revealing a pale, strikingly beautiful face carved with sharp, perfect lines.

But it was her eyes that caught Damien’s attention, they were filled exhaustion. It was the look of a survivor who had fought too many wars against the people who were supposed to love her.

As she reached for her car door handle, three men stepped out from behind a pillar.

They wore dark, nondescript clothing and baseball caps pulled low, but Damien’s detective eyes instantly clocked their movements. The light, bouncing steps. The hands hidden beneath their jackets. These weren't random muggers. They were professional cleaners, moving in a coordinated tactical triangle to corner her.

"Miss Sterling," the lead man said, his voice a low. "Your father sends his regards. He says it’s time to stop complicating Clara’s future."

Elena froze, her hand tightening on the door handle. She didn't scream. She didn't beg. A bitter, heartbreaking smile touched her lips as she looked at the men. She had known this day would come. She had known her family’s cruelty had no boundaries, but facing her own executioners in the dark still sent fear through her veins.

"How much did my father pay you?" Elena asked, her voice trembling but remarkably dignified. "I’ll double it. Triple it."

"Sorry, lady. Corporate restructuring is final," the leader sneered, pulling a silenced pistol from his jacket.

Before he could raise the barrel, a heavy, echoing thud shattered the silence of the garage.

"Hey! You can't park that delivery van in the loading zone!"

The three killers spun around, their weapons dropping slightly in surprise. Walking out of the shadows was Damien. He looked utterly pathetic, wearing a faded, oil-stained shirt, worn jeans, and carrying a cheap plastic clipboard. His face was a horrific mess of dark purple bruises, and he walked with a slight, deliberate limp, completely playing the part of a low-wage, clueless warehouse clerk who had stumbled into the wrong room.

"Who the hell are you? Get out of here if you want to live!" the leader hissed, pointing the gun at Damien's chest.

Elena’s eyes widened as she stared at the stranger. "Run!" she screamed at him, her voice cracking. "They’re going to kill you! Get out of here!"

Damien didn't run. Instead, he took another step forward, scratching his head with a perfectly executed look of absolute stupidity. "Look, mister, I just need a signature for some engine parts. If I don't get this clipboard signed, my boss Higgins is going to dock my pay, and my wife will lock me out of the house again..."

The lead killer cursed, lowering his guard completely. To him, Damien was just a piece of human garbage, a brainless, beaten-up peasant who wasn't even worth a bullet. "Shut up and die quietly then," the leader growled, turning his head back to Elena to finish the job quickly.

That split-second distraction was all the veteran detective needed.

The weak, broken illusion of the "trash son-in-law" vanished in a heartbeat.

Damien’s eyes turned dark. With an explosive burst of speed that defied the extreme pain ripping through his ribs, he closed the distance.