THE LAST WAR GENERAL

The Lamb and the Wolf 1

Under Dominic’s cold interrogation, General Harrison began trembling uncontrollably.

The icy, domineering aura he’d carried moments earlier—the authority that commanded sixty soldiers and made politicians nervous, collapsed in an instant. What replaced it was fear. Pure, bone-deep terror that seeped through his carefully maintained military bearing like water through cracked stone.

How could it be him? The War God revered by millions?

Harrison’s mouth opened. The title nearly escaped—War God, My Lord, Your Excellency—but the moment his eyes met Dominic’s cold gray stare, the words died in his throat.

He understood immediately. Dominic didn’t need him to say it aloud. Didn’t want it announced to this room full of vultures and traitors.

Harrison’s voice came out shaking, stripped of all authority. He bowed so low his forehead nearly touched his knees. “I apologize. Profoundly. For any… misunderstanding.” He straightened just enough to look past Dominic at Richard Kane, and his expression shifted to one of absolute disgust. “I want to make it clear—I have no connection whatsoever to the Kane family. None. Whatever you choose to do with them…” He swallowed hard. “My men and I will not interfere. Not in the slightest.”

Richard stared at the general, confusion warring with rising panic on his bloodied face. “What? Harrison, what are you—”

“Why are you terrified of this bastard?!” Vivienne shrieked, her voice climbing to hysteria. “He’s nothing! He’s a criminal! You brought sixty soldiers—SIXTY—and you’re just going to leave?!”

Harrison’s hand moved faster than thought. The slap connected with Richard’s face with a crack that echoed through the ballroom like a gunshot. Richard spun completely around and crashed into a table, crystal shattering beneath him.

“Shut your mouth,” Harrison hissed, his face white with terror. “Another word and I’ll—” He couldn’t even finish the threat. His eyes darted back to Dominic, desperate, pleading for forgiveness for the noise.

Dominic said nothing. His silence was more terrifying than any shout could have been.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke. One word. “Leave.”

Harrison nearly collapsed with relief. “Yes. Of course. Thank you.” He gestured frantically to his soldiers. “Out. Now. Everyone out. Move!”

The sixty soldiers filed out in perfect formation, though their discipline couldn’t quite hide their confusion. Harrison followed, walking backward for the first few steps, unable to turn his back on Dominic until he absolutely had to.

The massive doors closed behind them.

Outside the Thornfield Regency Hotel, Harrison leaned against the wall, gasping like he’d just surfaced from drowning. His hands shook. Cold sweat drenched his uniform.

Lieutenant Matthews approached cautiously. “Sir? I… I don’t understand. Why did we just abandon—”

“Abandon?” Harrison’s laugh was half-mad. “We didn’t abandon anything. We escaped.” He grabbed Matthews by the collar, pulling him close. “That man in there? The one they were calling a criminal?” His voice dropped to a terrified whisper. “That’s him. The War God. Do you understand? That’s the man we’ve been trying to meet all day.”

Matthews’s face went white.

“We walked out of there alive,” Harrison continued, his grip tightening. “That’s a miracle. That’s mercy we don’t deserve.” He released Matthews and straightened, some of his military bearing returning through sheer force of will. “Here’s what happens now. This matter ends here. No one mentions it. Not to your wives, not to your friends, not in your fucking sleep. Anyone who leaks a single word about what happened in that ballroom—I will personally ensure their entire family pays for it. Am I clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“And Matthews? Contact the headquarters, immediately. Every connection, every contract, every favor the Kane family ever had with military command, cut it. All of it. I want them isolated by sunrise.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harrison took one last look at the hotel, where lights blazed in the grand ballroom windows. Then he climbed into his vehicle and ordered the driver to take him as far from here as possible.

Inside the ballroom, Dominic looked down at Richard Kane, who knelt in a spreading pool of his own sweat and blood.

“That was your trump card?” Dominic’s voice was soft, almost curious. “A general who ran away the moment he saw my face?”

Richard’s mouth worked soundlessly. His mind raced, desperate for an explanation that made sense. Why would Harrison—General Victor Harrison, war hero, presidential advisor, bow to this… this bastard nephew?

It had to be a trick. Some kind of blackmail. Maybe Dominic had dirt on him, compromising photos or evidence of corruption. That had to be it. There was no other explanation that fit.

“You’re bluffing,” Richard gasped out, clutching his broken ribs. “You… you tricked him somehow. But when the real War God arrives—”

“Father!” Marcus screamed from where he lay, both legs bent at unnatural angles. “Father, please! I’ll do anything—just make him stop!”

Dominic’s eyes shifted to Marcus. The young man who’d lived in luxury built on stolen wealth. Who’d smiled at family gatherings while Dominic rotted in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.

Marcus saw something in that gaze that made his bladder release. “Money!” he sobbed. “I’ll give you money! Fifty million! A hundred million! Name your price—please—just let me live!”

Dominic walked toward him. Marcus tried to crawl away, dragging his shattered legs, leaving a smear of blood across the polished marble.

“Wait—WAIT—”