Supreme Demon Emperor Returns

1. A Symphony of Steel and Blood at the Abyss

The rain fell in a deluge, battering hundreds of black umbrellas lined up across the elite grounds of Greenwood Cemetery. An autumn wind carried a bone-chilling cold, but Xavier Aristhos did not feel it. He stood frozen. His eyes stared vacantly at the mahogany casket as it was lowered slowly into the earth. His grandfather, the only member of the Aristhos family who had ever treated him like a human being, was now being buried six feet under.

Across the mound of fresh red clay, Isabella and her son, Adrian, stood beneath a large canopy held by a bodyguard. Isabella dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief, a sickening display of feigned grief. Beside her, Adrian looked entirely too conspicuous for a funeral in his designer suit. He watched Xavier with a crooked, triumphant smirk.

The ceremony ended. The crowd of vipers in neckties began to disperse. Adrian stepped toward Xavier, intentionally slamming his shoulder into his brother’s.

"Is your little sob story finished yet?" Adrian whispered, his voice raspy and mocking. "Move. A bastard doesn't belong in the front row."

Xavier turned his head slowly. His face was as cold as a block of ice. "You don't possess the intellect to manage a single subsidiary, Adrian. Do not act as if you own this dynasty yet."

Adrian’s face flushed crimson. "You son of a bitch. You think Grandfather can still protect you? He’s rotting in the ground, Xav. You’re nothing but a parasite."

"Enough, Adrian," Isabella interrupted. She stepped forward. Her high heels sank into the mud, yet her poisonous elegance remained intact. She looked Xavier up and down. "It is a pity your grandfather left us so soon, Xavier. Had he lived a few weeks longer, he might have had time to give you a severance package before I kicked you out of my house."

"Your house?" Xavier offered a thin, cynical smile. "Grandfather hasn't read the will yet, Isabella. Do not celebrate before you have crossed the finish line."

Isabella leaned in. Her beautiful features twisted into a snarl. "You do not have pure Aristhos blood. Stop interfering in my family's business, or you will join that old man sooner than you think."

"Is that a confession? That you poisoned him?"

Isabella’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. "You’re insane. Adrian, let’s go. Do not waste your time with trash."

Adrian laughed disparagingly and spat near Xavier’s shoes. "Pack your things, Xav. I’ll give you until tomorrow morning before I have the guard dogs bite you on your way out."

The two walked toward the line of limousines. Xavier watched their retreating figures, his jaw tight.

Suddenly, a middle-aged man in a shabby suit walked past him. It was Arthur, his grandfather’s trusted private investigator. Pretending to adjust his coat collar, Arthur slipped a small key and a rolled-up paper into Xavier’s pocket.

"That is the key to the secret safe in the old Westchester house," Arthur whispered without looking at Xavier. His voice trembled violently. "Isabella bribed the medical team. The records of the poison are in the documents inside that safe. Get them now, Xavier. They are already suspicious of me."

"Are you safe, Arthur?" Xavier asked quietly.

"I can look after myself. Take those documents and get them to the District Attorney tonight. Do not go back to the main estate." Arthur quickened his pace, vanishing among the marble headstones.

Xavier gripped the key inside his pocket. He turned and walked briskly toward his black Aston Martin, parked far from the rest of the family.

Half an hour later, Xavier’s tires screeched as he sped away from the gravel roads of the Westchester estate. His shirt was soaked with sweat and rain. On the passenger seat lay a thick brown folder. Absolute proof. It contained records of Isabella’s bank transfers to the forensic doctor and the original lab results proving his grandfather had been injected with a high dose of potassium chloride. Victory was within reach.

As his car began to climb the winding, slick roads of Bear Mountain, the phone on his dashboard vibrated. A voice message arrived.

The name on the screen caused Xavier’s rigid jaw to soften slightly. Livia.

Xavier pressed play.

The sound of Livia’s sobbing filled the cabin. "Xavier, where are you? When are you coming home?"

Xavier swallowed hard. His heart felt as though it were being squeezed.

"Grandfather is gone. Leo is starting to boss me around. He pulled my hair earlier and tried to make me sign custody waiver documents. And Isabella, she keeps looking at me strangely. I’m scared. Please come home soon."

Xavier immediately hit the callback button. She answered on the second ring.

"Livia? Are you safe?" Xavier asked, his eyes scanning the fog-covered road.

"Xavier," Livia’s voice shook. "Where are you? Leo brought men to the house. They’ve closed all the main doors."

"Listen to me carefully, Livia," Xavier said. He kept his voice low and steady to calm her, even as adrenaline surged through his veins. "Lock your bedroom door from the inside. Drag your vanity in front of it. Do you hear me?"

"But why? What do they want?"

"Grandfather was murdered, Liv. And I have the proof."

There was a sharp intake of breath from the other end. "Oh God."

"I’m taking it to the police in the city. When it’s done, I’m coming to get you tonight with a SWAT team. We are leaving that madhouse. Pack your things. Put only the essentials in a small bag. Do you understand?"

"I’m scared. What if they break down the door?"

"They won’t touch you as long as I’m breathing. Trust me, Liv. I’ve never broken a promise to you, have I?"

Livia’s sobbing slowed. "No. Promise you’ll come. Pick me up."

"I promise. Stay hidden."

Xavier ended the call. He floored the accelerator. The V8 engine roared through the darkness. He reached for his phone again, preparing to call the New York Police Commissioner, who had been his grandfather's secret informant.

Before his finger could touch the screen, a massive impact slammed into the left side of his car.

The Aston Martin swerved violently. The tires shrieked against the wet asphalt. Xavier gripped the steering wheel with all his might, fighting to stabilize the vehicle. He glanced at his side mirror.

Two massive, armored black SUVs emerged from the fog. They had no license plates. Their windows were tinted as dark as the night.

"Damn it," Xavier hissed.

The SUV on the left accelerated again, brutally ramming Xavier’s driver-side door. The window shattered. Rain sprayed inside, drenching Xavier’s face.

His phone suddenly rang. The screen displayed an unknown caller. Amidst the violent shaking of the wheel, Xavier pressed the answer button.

A shrill laugh erupted from the speakers.

"How’s the ride, Xav? Comfortable?"

It was Adrian.

"You followed me? You pathetic coward. You play dirty just like your mother," Xavier spat. He slammed on the brakes, hoping the SUV would overshoot him.

The brake pedal hit the floor.

There was no hydraulic pressure. No deceleration. The car careened wildly at 120 kilometers per hour toward a hairpin turn.

Xavier’s eyes widened. He tried to wrench the steering wheel, but it was locked tight.

"Surprised?" Adrian’s laughter exploded through the car. "You think my mother would let you walk out of Westchester with those papers? We paid a mechanic to gut your brakes and your electrical system, Xav."

"If I survive this, Adrian, I swear I will rip your heart out with my bare hands!" Xavier roared.

"Too bad you aren't getting out alive! There’s no police signal on this mountain. No witnesses. Just you, the abyss, and death." Adrian’s voice turned feral. He could be heard shouting a command to someone else. "Hit him now! Ram that bastard into the canyon!"

The SUV on the right surged forward, cutting off Xavier’s path. The SUV on the left gained momentum and slammed into the rear of Xavier’s car with full force.

The impact was fatal.

Xavier’s Aston Martin was launched toward the guardrail. The metal tore like paper. Time seemed to slow. He watched as the nose of his car pierced the barrier, soaring out into the pitch-black air.

The call disconnected.

The car went into a freefall. Gravity pulled at him mercilessly. Xavier’s stomach churned with the sickening sensation of weightlessness. In those final seconds, it wasn't death he feared. It wasn't the pain. It was the image of Livia locking her bedroom door, waiting for him to come home.

*Forgive me, Liv.*

The car slammed into a granite shelf at the bottom of the ravine. The sound of crushing metal was deafening. Glass disintegrated into shards. The seatbelt jerked against Xavier’s chest so hard that he heard the sickening crack of bone.

The vehicle rolled three times before finally coming to rest upside down. The hood was crumpled against the dashboard. The smell of leaking gasoline filled the air, mingling with the scent of fresh blood.

Xavier choked. His eyes were half-open. Blood flowed freely from his forehead, blinding his left eye. He tried to breathe, but a sharp, agonizing pain ripped through his chest. Two of his ribs had shattered and punctured his lungs.

With every breath, blood filled his throat.

Xavier groaned. He tried to move his hand to release the seatbelt, but his left arm was broken, the bone protruding through the skin. His legs were pinned beneath the mangled engine.

A spark ignited near the hood. Within seconds, flames erupted, devouring the remaining fuel. Intense heat began to sear Xavier’s skin.

He was dying. There would be no miracle. He could feel his consciousness fading and his heartbeat faltering. A thick despair swallowed his mind. He had failed. Isabella had won. Adrian had won. And Livia would be their prey.

*Please. Someone. Let me kill them.*

The cry in his heart was not a prayer for salvation. It was a roar of pure, unadulterated hatred. It was a rage so vast that it made his very soul tremble.

As the fire began to lick at the edges of his shirt, the raindrops suddenly froze in mid-air.

Time stopped.

The crackle of the fire vanished. The sound of rain hitting metal disappeared. An absolute silence blanketed the bottom of the abyss.

Xavier struggled to move his bloodied eyes. Through the shattered window, the darkness of the night seemed to tear itself open.

A black shadow of impossible proportions, deeper than the night itself, descended slowly from the sky. It took the form of a cloaked man, yet its aura radiated a death that was millennia old. The shadow’s eyes glowed with a hellish blue light, staring directly into Xavier’s fading gaze.