The King Of War Returns

Chapter 3

Jaden didn’t even turn.

“Drax,” he said calmly, “there’s no need for that. This is a mission I will handle myself. Order all troops to return to the border.”

The man stiffened. “Yes, General. I will do just that.”

Jaden finally spoke again, his voice low but commanding.

“And the information I requested?”

“Yes,” Drax replied. “Agatha White is still in Ravenmoor. And Mr. Draco’s location has been confirmed.”

The name echoed in Jaden’s mind.

Draco.

The man who led the ambush. The enforcer who obeyed Agatha’s orders without hesitation. The one whose men pulled the trigger on his family.

Jaden’s eyes darkened.

“Draco…” he murmured.

He turned and began walking toward a sleek black car waiting nearby.

“Let’s pay that maniac Draco a visit,” Jaden said coldly. “Then we’ll visit that evil bitch Agatha.”

The warehouse was sealed tight, its iron doors locked, its windows boarded shut. Only a single bulb hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly, casting long, distorted shadows across the cold concrete floor.

An elderly man in his late fifties was tied tightly to a metal chair at the center of the room. His expensive suit was torn and stained with dust and blood, his once-proud posture now forced into a painful slouch. Beside him, a young woman lay bound on the ground, her wrists tied behind her back, her mouth trembling as she struggled to keep herself from crying.

They were surrounded.

Nearly twenty men stood in a loose circle around them, armed with knives, guns, and iron rods. Their expressions were cold, practiced—men who had done this far too many times to feel anything at all.

“Hey, old man,” a deep voice drawled. “You better sign these papers. I don’t have all night.”

The speaker stepped forward.

Draco.

He was a man in his late forties, massive in build, towering over everyone else in the room. A long black coat hung from his broad shoulders, brushing against his boots as he moved. A thick cigarette burned between his lips, smoke curling lazily into the air as if the situation bored him.

Donald Winston lifted his head despite the pain in his arms.

“You can’t do this to me!” he barked, forcing authority into his voice. “I am the head of the Winston family. I refuse to be treated like some common criminal!”

Draco chuckled, taking a slow drag from his cigarette before exhaling directly toward Donald’s face.

“I don’t care who you are,” he said flatly. “I’m just here to do my job.”

He gestured to one of his men, who immediately tossed a folder onto Donald’s lap.

“Miss Agatha wants your company,” Draco continued. “And you’re going to give it to her—one way or the other.”

Donald clenched his jaw. “You think this ends well for you? I have connections. Power. People will come looking—”

Draco stepped closer, the smile on his face disappearing completely.

“So,” he interrupted, pulling out a sharp dagger and pressing its cold edge against Donald Winston’s cheek, “we either do this the easy way…”

The blade pressed harder, drawing a thin line of blood.

“…or the hard way.”

On the floor, Hannah Winston shook violently, tears streaming down her face as she watched the knife at her father’s throat, fear clawing into her chest, her ribs aching with every shallow breath she took.

“And who the hell does Agatha think she is, taking my company by force?” Donald barked, straining against the ropes. His eyes burned with fury despite the pain coursing through his body.

Slap!

The sound echoed through the warehouse.

Donald’s head snapped to the side as Draco’s heavy hand struck him across the face. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his torn collar.

“How dare you speak her name like that,” Draco growled. “She’s the wife of Lucian Thornfell—the most powerful man in Ravenmoor. You will comply, whether you like it or not.”

“Dad!” Hannah cried, scrambling toward him despite her bound hands. She pressed herself against his side, her body trembling as she tried to hold him upright. “Are you okay?”

Donald coughed, blood staining his lips, but he forced a weak smile for his daughter. “I’m fine,” he whispered. “Don’t be scared.”