Supreme Authority

Chapter 18

Cassandra snapped her head around. “What? Where are the guards?”

Alex’s eyes narrowed, his voice flat. “They’re gone.”

A chill clawed up Cassandra’s spine. “That’s impossible. They should’ve—”

“Quiet,” Alex cut her off, his tone sharp as a blade. He tapped the glass. “Keep driving. Don’t stop.”

The driver’s knuckles whitened on the wheel. The engine howled as he slammed harder on the gas. Cassandra twisted to look back—two black cars were closing in fast.

“They’re gaining!” she cried.

Alex leaned forward, his voice a command. “Don’t slow down. Take the east turn. Now!”

The driver jerked the wheel. Tires shrieked against asphalt, the car tearing forward. But the black sedans mirrored every move, circling like wolves.

One pulled up, headlights blazing, then slammed into their bumper. The jolt rattled the entire car. Cassandra gasped, clinging to the handle above her head.

“What the hell is wrong with them?” she panted.

The driver swerved, barely missing a narrow alley. Another car darted to the side, blocking their path.

“Damn it!” the driver spat.

“Straight ahead,” Alex said coldly. “Do not let go of the wheel.”

Another brutal hit sent Cassandra lurching forward. Alex’s hand shot out, catching her, steady as stone. His calm touch in the chaos only made her heart pound harder.

The driver veered around another corner. The enemy cars stuck to them like glue. One clipped their bumper again, making Cassandra cry out.

“Stay calm,” Alex murmured, his grip on her firm.

Up ahead, the road split—then Cassandra’s breath caught. Two more black cars appeared, sliding into position, blocking the way.

“Hold tight!” the driver roared. He slammed the brakes. Tires screamed. The car skidded to a dead stop.

They were caged.

Four black sedans boxed them in. Doors swung open. Men in dark suits stepped out, moving with lethal precision. These weren’t street thugs. They were killers.

“Out of the car,” one barked, his deep voice brooking no argument.

Alex pushed the door open, stepping into the night with deliberate calm. Cassandra followed, her chin high, defiance etched across her face. She refused to tremble.

The leader approached, his sneer cutting through the dark. “Well, well. Cassandra Dupont. The little princess, all alone at last.”

Cassandra’s eyes blazed. “Who sent you?”

He chuckled, low and cruel. “Does it matter? Your fate’s already sealed. Walk quietly, and maybe no one bleeds.”

Her glare sharpened. “Don’t mistake me for some fragile doll.”

“Enough games,” the man snapped. “We can silence you in seconds.” His gaze shifted to Alex, who stood silent, hands in his pockets.

The man sneered. “And this? A servant? Step aside, boy, before you get hurt.”

Laughter burst from his men.

“Look at him—too scared to speak.”

“He wouldn’t last a second if I hit him.”

“Careful, he might piss himself!”

Their laughter echoed like a pack of hyenas.

Alex didn’t move. His stillness only made them bolder.

“Take the girl,” the leader ordered, voice thick with mockery. “Then we’ll deal with the rabbit after.”

One of the men in black stepped closer, cracking his knuckles. “Move it, bunny. You’ve got no idea what kind of hell you’re walking into.”

Alex tilted his head, lips curling into the faintest smile. “You’re right,” he said softly, almost amused. “I don’t.”

The thug mistook the words for fear and sneered. “Good. Then—”

But then Alex’s eyes sharpened like steel, cutting the night with their glare. His body didn’t move, yet his presence shifted—heavy, suffocating—like a predator finally stirring awake.

The man froze mid-sentence. His breath caught. Something unseen pressed against his chest, crushing the air from his lungs.

Alex’s voice dropped low, lethal. “Lay a hand on her… and you’ll never leave here alive.”

The leader chuckled, though his smirk wavered. “You want to die first? Brave. Stupid, but brave. Kill this nuisance.”

The driver fumbled at the door handle, panic flooding his face. Alex’s eyes cut toward him, sharp and commanding. “Stay inside.”

The thug lunged, his fist aimed squarely at Alex’s chest, the pavement cracking under his step. Cassandra gasped, certain Alex would be crushed.

Alex lifted his hand.

Tap.

Two fingers caught the fist midair. The man’s face twisted in disbelief, veins bulging as he strained against the effortless grip. Alex didn’t even flinch.

With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the man aside like trash. The body smashed against a car door, metal caving with a sickening crunch.

Silence.

The mocking grins vanished. Cassandra’s breath caught, her chest tight.

“What… what the hell is he?” one whispered, voice trembling.

The leader’s bravado cracked. He snapped, teeth gritted. “Don’t just stand there! Kill him!”

The men shifted, eyes wide, weapons flashing as they drew them.

Alex moved first.

It wasn’t a sprint. It wasn’t even human. One moment he was at Cassandra’s side. The next, he was in their midst, his body a blur.

Crack.

A wrist bent backward, bone snapping like dry wood.

Thud.

A body slammed into the asphalt, lifeless.

Another swung a blade. Alex tilted his head. The steel hissed past, missing by inches. His palm drove forward—one strike—and the man’s chest caved in, breath snuffed out in an instant.

The driver’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “Dear God…” His hands clutched the wheel, frozen in terror. This wasn’t fighting. It was execution. Death itself wearing human skin.

“Kill him!” one shouted, but his voice cracked, his courage dying before his body did.

They rushed him together.

It didn’t matter. Alex was everywhere. Each movement clean, efficient, terrifyingly fast. Limbs broke. Necks twisted. Bodies dropped. One by one, silence claimed them all.

A desperate man turned to run. He barely made it three steps before Alex appeared in front of him, like the night itself had carried him there.

One strike. The man dropped without a sound.

And then… nothing.

Stillness.

The ground was littered with bodies.

Cassandra’s lips parted, her hand clenching her dress tight. Her eyes locked on Alex. He stood calm, unshaken, but his gaze was wide, empty, lifeless.

This man was no miracle healer. He was something far darker. Something terrifying.

Only the leader remained. He stumbled backward, his face pale, sweat dripping. His legs buckled. He collapsed, trembling, hands raised in surrender.

“M-monster!” he stammered, voice breaking. “What the hell are you?!” His body shook violently. A wet stain spread across his pants as he begged, choking on his own sobs.

“Please… don’t kill me. I’m begging you!”

Alex’s voice was flat, cold, almost bored. “You’re lucky. I only need one mouth to talk.”