The Kingmaker Ex-Husband: Trillionaire in the Shadows

The Battle on the Golden Bay Bridge

The masked leader of the attackers’ scream of pain shattered the silence of the Golden Bay Bridge as Damian twisted his wrist, causing the steel dagger to clatter onto the tarmac. The stocky man’s wrist joint cracked as it snapped under the grip of Damian’s fingers, which were like hydraulic steel clamps.

Seraphina Vale, who had been keeping her eyes tightly shut, slowly opened her eyelids. Before her stood a sturdy young man in a black shirt with neatly rolled-up sleeves, towering like an unshakeable rocky outcrop. The young man’s gaze was so calm and cold, as if the life-and-death situation on this flyover were merely an everyday sight to him.

“Y-you bastard! Who are you?!” roared Viper as he tried to pull his locked hand free, but the excruciating pain caused his knees to buckle and he fell to his knees on the tarmac.

“Beat him! Kill this bastard right now!” Viper ordered in a hoarse, shrill voice to his seven henchmen, who were still standing frozen in place.

The other seven masked men were instantly snapped out of their stupor. With eyes blazing with rage, they simultaneously swung thick steel pipes and military-issue tactical knives, charging at Damian from all directions to slice the young man to pieces.

Behind them, Kaelen Mercer stood casually with his back leaning against the bonnet of a Toyota saloon, showing absolutely no intention of stepping in to help. The Black Vanguard commander even folded his arms across his chest, a faint smile playing on his lips. He knew full well that for a military martial arts Grandmaster like Damian Cross, facing a pack of wild dogs armed with iron pipes like this was nothing more than a morning warm-up.

A strong wind swept across the bridge as the first attacker leapt forward, swinging a rusty iron pipe aimed at Damian’s left temple. The swing was delivered with full force, enough to crush the skull of an ordinary man.

Damian did not retreat a single inch. With a reflexive movement that was both graceful and efficient, he shifted his body slightly to the right to avoid the path of the iron pipe. Just as the pipe passed a few centimetres above his shoulder, Damian’s left hand shot out like an arrow, driving his hard left elbow straight into the first attacker’s ribs.

‘Crack!’

The horrifying sound of a rib snapping echoed. The first attacker spat out fresh blood as he was flung two metres to the side before finally collapsing motionless onto the bridge’s pavement.

Before the first attacker had even hit the ground, the next two attackers had already closed in on Damian, their tactical folding knives aimed straight at his solar plexus and throat. The double attack was launched simultaneously with the precise coordination typical of street hitmen.

But in Damian’s eyes, the rhythm of the attack was too slow.

Damian stepped half a step forward with his right foot into the gap between the two attackers, then twisted his palm to parry the wrist of the attacker on his right whilst slamming it into the arm of the attacker on his left.

‘Thud!’

The two steel blades clashed, cutting into the arms of their respective owners. As the two masked men yelped in surprise, Damian swept their supporting legs with a full-powered circular low kick. Both attackers instantly lost their balance, then were flung to the ground, their heads striking the bridge’s tarmac, knocking them unconscious on the spot.

“W-what sort of monster is this man?!” thought the fourth attacker, stepping back with trembling hands clutching his steel pipe.

Four of his men had been knocked out in less than a minute, without a single attack managing to even graze the hem of the young man’s clothes in front of them.

The three remaining attackers exchanged glances, their faces pale beneath their black cloth masks. Realising, however, that they had no way out, the three of them recklessly charged at Damian simultaneously. Two swung their steel pipes at his head, whilst the other attempted to wrap his arms around Damian’s waist from behind to immobilise him.

Damian caught a glimpse of the man behind him out of the corner of his eye. Instead of dodging, Damian met the man’s charge head-on, jerking his broad back and shoulders backwards with a tremendous burst of force.

‘Bugh!’

The impact of Damian’s back as hard as a fortress wall struck the attacker’s solar plexus directly, instantly choking the man’s breath and sending him crashing to his knees, clutching his stomach as he gasped for air.

At the same moment, two iron pipes swung down from above. Damian raised his forearms, clad in tough muscle-protecting armour, and parried both iron pipes directly in mid-air.

‘Ting!’

The sound of a heavy collision, as if two steel bars had clashed, echoed across the bridge. The two attackers’ eyes widened in horror as they felt their hands shake violently until their palms went numb. Before they could withdraw their weapons, Damian took a single step forward and delivered two open-handed strikes straight to the chests of both men.

The force of the open-handed strikes sent both attackers flying three metres, their backs slamming into the door of their own black van with a deafening thud.

Now, all seven hired attackers lay writhing in pain on the tarmac of the Golden Bay flyover.

Viper, whose wrist was still throbbing with excruciating pain, tried to crawl towards his steel dagger lying near the car’s wheel. But a firm foot in a black leather boot stamped down on his chest with immense force, pinning the masked man’s stocky body firmly to the bridge’s tarmac.

Damian looked down at Viper with a gaze as cold as polar ice. The tip of Damian’s shoe tore slightly at the collar of the attacker’s leather jacket, revealing a tattoo of an iron scorpion at the base of his neck.

“The Iron Fang Syndicate,” said Damian in a voice that was calm yet laden with deadly menace.

“Who in New Avalon paid you to lay a hand on Miss Vale?” asked Damian, pressing the toe of his shoe slightly into Viper’s sternum.

“Aaargh! I-I don’t know! We only received the order through a third-party intermediary!” screamed Viper, gasping for breath as he endured the pain in his chest.

“Our client transferred a deposit from an overseas account and simply asked us to ensure Miss Vale was injured so she couldn’t attend this afternoon’s auction! That’s all I know, sir! Spare my life!” wailed Viper, pleading with a face covered in cold sweat.

Damian stared at the man for a moment, then lifted his foot whilst giving Kaelen Mercer a nod.

Kaelen, understanding his employer’s intent, immediately stepped forward, retrieving tactical restraints from the boot of his car to subdue Viper and all his helpless henchmen, so they could be handed over to the police.

Damian then turned around, directing his gaze towards Seraphina Vale, who was still standing frozen by the door of her Rolls-Royce.

Seraphina Vale stared at Damian with her beautiful brown eyes wide open. As the head of the Vale Global Conglomerate, Seraphina was accustomed to dealing with military generals, heads of national intelligence, and world-class bodyguards. Yet she had never witnessed anyone capable of subduing eight fully-armed hitmen with their bare hands in under two minutes without breaking a sweat.

Seraphina smoothed out her old, slightly torn blue silk blazer whilst taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart. With graceful, confident strides, she walked towards Damian.

“Thank you for your help, sir,” said Seraphina in a melodious voice that nevertheless exuded a dignified air of leadership.

“If you hadn’t arrived just in time, I might have lost my life or been seriously injured at the hands of these savages,” continued Seraphina, her eyes brimming with sincere respect.

“Don’t mention it, Miss Vale. I just happened to be passing by and couldn’t bear to see a group of armed men bullying a woman,” replied Damian in a relaxed tone, gazing at Seraphina’s beautiful face.

Seraphina reached into her leather handbag inside the car, then pulled out a thin business card made of titanium plated with pure gold. The card bore only an elegant name ‘Seraphina Vale’ and a private satellite telephone number known only to a handful of the most powerful figures in New Avalon.

Seraphina held out the golden business card with both hands towards Damian.

“My name is Seraphina Vale. Your help this morning is a debt of life that the Vale family is deeply indebted to you for,” said Seraphina with great sincerity.

“Whenever you need assistance in this city be it in business, legal matters or banking you need only call this number, and the full might of Vale Global will stand behind you,” Seraphina continued with a faint smile, a rare smile she had never before shown to any man in this city.

Damian accepted the gold-plated metal business card with one hand, then glanced at it briefly before tucking it into the pocket of his black shirt.

“I appreciate your goodwill, Miss Vale,” said Damian, nodding slowly.

“You’d best contact your personal security team straight away to evacuate this car before the bridge becomes congested. I still have some personal business to attend to this afternoon,” said Damian, taking his leave politely.

Without waiting for a further reply, Damian walked back towards his black Toyota saloon, where Kaelen had already subdued the attackers. Damian opened the rear passenger door and stepped into the car’s comfortable cabin.

The unassuming Toyota saloon swiftly sped away from the scene of the skirmish on the Golden Bay Bridge, cutting through the morning breeze towards the heart of the Wallcrest Financial District, where the Starlight Diamond Auction Hall was located.

Seraphina Vale stood motionless at the edge of the bridge, letting the strong wind blow through her beautiful long hair. Her piercing gaze remained fixed on the black saloon as it slowly drove away and disappeared round the bend of the bridge.

Shortly afterwards, a backup security vehicle belonging to Vale Global arrived at the scene with its siren blaring. A female personal assistant hurriedly stepped out and approached Seraphina, her face filled with panic.

“Miss Vale! Are you all right?! Who was that man in the black shirt who’s just left? Should we run a full background check on him through our intelligence network?” asked the assistant, breathlessly, whilst checking her boss’s condition.

Seraphina shook her head gently, a mysterious and utterly captivating smile playing on her beautifully full lips.

“Track that man’s identity? There’s no need,” murmured Seraphina in a soft, meaningful voice.

“A gaze as cold and serene as that… is possessed only by a mighty dragon hiding its claws from the world,” continued Seraphina, gazing down the street along which Damian had passed.

“Contact head office immediately and prepare the best spare car. This afternoon, I shall be attending the Starlight Diamond Auction Hall in person,” Seraphina ordered in a firm, determined tone.