Jack moved through the sea of elegant guests, his eyes locked on Emily Wilson. The crowd seemed to part instinctively, sensing something different about him. Despite the expensive suits and designer dresses surrounding him, he remained unintimidated.
"You're Emily?" Jack asked directly, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. Emily Wilson stood perfectly still, her emerald dress a stark contrast to the marble staircase. Her eyes, cold and calculating, swept over Jack with unmistakable disdain. "I don't know who you are," she replied, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. "But you need to leave. Now. You're causing a scene." Jack remained calm. "I'm your fiancé," he stated matter-of-factly. "I've come to honor our arranged engagement. When can we go register our marriage? A wave of laughter erupted from the crowd. Rich socialites covered their mouths, some pointing, others openly mocking. Ryan Brooks, a prominent businessman standing close to Emily, looked particularly amused. These people think this is a joke, Jack thought. They have no idea. Emily's face flushed with anger. "Stop lying," she hissed. "I've never seen you before in my life." Without hesitation, Jack reached into his jacket and pulled out an old, carefully preserved document. The crowd fell silent as he unfolded the marriage contract, its edges yellowed with age but the signatures clearly visible. "This contract," Jack said calmly, "was signed by our grandfathers decades ago." Ryan Brooks stepped forward, his expensive Italian suit emphasizing his wealth. "Security!" he shouted. "Throw this man out!" But Emily's hand shot up, stopping the bodyguards. Her fingers trembled slightly as she took the contract, examining it closely. The signature was unmistakable—her grandfather's precise handwriting, complete with the Wilson family seal. How is this possible? she thought. I've heard whispers, rumors, but never believed... The crowd's laughter died down, replaced by confused murmurs. Jack stood perfectly still, watching Emily's reaction. He knew the document was genuine, a promise made long before either of them were born. "This can't be real," Emily muttered, more to herself than anyone else. The grand doors at the entrance burst open. Michael and Patricia Wilson, Emily's parents, swept into the room. The crowd instinctively moved aside, creating a path for Draconia's most powerful family. Patricia Wilson's eyes immediately found Jack. Her designer dress and perfectly coiffed hair radiated wealth and status. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice dripping with contempt. "How dare you interrupt our family's event?" Jack met her gaze without flinching. "I'm Jack Parker," he replied. "Your daughter's fiancé." Patricia laughed—a sharp, cruel sound that echoed through the hall. "You? Fiancé to my daughter? Look at you! No family, no status, dressed like some common traveler." Michael Wilson remained silent, studying Jack with calculating eyes. "This contract is nothing," Patricia continued. "A trick. A forgery. My daughter will never marry someone like you." The crowd nodded in agreement. Jack looked like an outsider—his clothes simple, his demeanor unusual. Next to Emily's polished appearance and the wealth surrounding her, he seemed completely out of place. But Jack didn't move. Didn't react. The contract remained in Emily's hands, a physical reminder of a promise made long ago. Old Joe prepared me for this, he thought. Nothing about this moment surprises me. Emily stared at the document, her world suddenly feeling unstable. The contract was real. The engagement was real. But the man before her? He was nothing like she had imagined.Latest Chapter
EPILOGUE–THE TASK COMPLETED 🐉
LATE OLD JOE Jack turned away before anyone could see. He didn’t trust his voice. He didn’t trust his face. He took the stairs quietly, each step careful, controlled, until the sounds of the sitting room softened into a distant hum. His bedroom welcomed him with dim light and familiar shadows. The window was cracked open; night air drifted in, cool and clean. Jack shut the door. The moment the latch clicked, his control broke. He sank onto the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed. A sound tore out of him—raw, unguarded. Tears spilled freely now, hot and relentless, soaking into his hands. “My mentor,” he whispered hoarsely. “Joseph Donovan.” His gaze lifted to the wall opposite the bed. The portrait hung there—large, carefully framed. A hand-drawn image, charcoal and ink, every line deliberate. Old Joe sat as he always had in Jack’s memory: relaxed posture, knowing eyes, a half-smile that carried both kindness and iron certainty. Jack stood on unste
Chapter 548
The porch light washed William Thompson in a pale amber halo, sharpening the lines at his eyes, softening the silver at his temples. He didn’t step in right away. He waited—like a man asking permission without words. Jackson’s fingers curled around the door edge. “Um,” he said, craning his neck. “Do you know my mom?” Sarah found her voice. It came out thin, then steadied. “Dad.” William exhaled, a long breath that seemed to empty years out of his chest. “Hey, kiddo.” His eyes didn’t leave Sarah as he said it. She crossed the space in three quick steps. They met in the doorway, awkward for half a heartbeat, then arms wrapped tight—hers around his middle, his around her shoulders. William’s hand pressed into her hair, firm and familiar. He closed his eyes. “I should’ve called,” he murmured into her hair. “You’re here,” Sarah said. Her voice caught anyway. “That’s enough.” Behind them, the house released the breath it had been holding. Ryan shifted, clearing his throat. Emily stra
Chapter 547
Jack let the doorway frame him a moment longer, the noise inside settling into something domestic and real. Laughter, overlapping voices, the scrape of shoes being kicked off without care. This was the other side of victory—no banners, no broadcasts. Just walls that knew your name. He reached back and unfastened the Dragon Dagger. The metal slid free without resistance, its presence dim now, quiet. No hum. No pull. Just weight—honest and inert. Jack crossed the living space and placed it into the recessed wall cradle beside the stairs. The housing sealed with a soft click, biometric lock engaging. Sarah noticed. She always did. “You sure?” she asked gently. Jack nodded. “It’s done for tonight.” She smiled at that—not wide, not triumphant. Relieved. “Baths,” Sarah announced, clapping her hands once. “Everyone. Before anyone falls asleep on the couch.” A chorus of groans answered her, half-hearted and theatrical. “I’m not dirty,” Matilda protested, already halfway up the stai
Chapter 546
Jack stayed where he was a moment longer, letting the Governor of Carlisle’s voice fade naturally into the night air. The plaza didn’t rush to reclaim noise. It didn’t need to. People were already turning inward—talking, pointing, planning routes home that felt different than the ones they’d taken coming here. That was when DragonBot dipped closer. “Transport readiness confirmed,” it said. “DragonCar is positioned at the east ramp. Crowd density decreasing along primary exit corridors.” Jack nodded once. “Alright.” He looked down at Matilda and Jackson. Both were tired now—the sharp edge of excitement blunted by exhaustion—but their eyes were still bright. “Home?” he asked. Matilda nodded immediately. Jackson yawned and leaned into Sarah’s side. “Home,” Sarah echoed softly. They began moving. The crowd parted without being told. Not in a dramatic way—no bowed heads, no reverent silence—but with something quieter. Recognition. Gratitude that didn’t demand anything b
Chapter 545
He let the conversation breathe for a few seconds longer, listening to the low tide of voices around him. This—this—was the fragile part. After victory, before direction. He felt it in the way people leaned closer to one another, in the way questions hovered just beneath smiles. He turned slightly, addressing not the press, not the screens—but the people within arm’s reach. “Reidsville,” Jack said, voice steady, unamplified, yet somehow carrying. “I won’t pretend tonight fixed everything. It didn’t. What it did was stop the bleeding.” The plaza quieted again, not by command, but by choice. “For a long time,” he continued, “this city was forced to make decisions under pressure that wasn’t its own. Fear distorts judgment. It makes good people compromise just to survive.” Ryan nodded slowly beside him. Emily folded her arms, attentive, analytical. “Tonight,” Jack said, “fear lost its leverage. Not because someone stronger showed up—but because enough of you refused to keep living
Chapter 544
Jack let the laughter around him taper naturally, not silencing it—just guiding it. The plaza had reached that rare balance point where relief hadn’t yet curdled into chaos. Families stood shoulder to shoulder. Strangers shared space without suspicion. Reidsville was breathing. Then the LED screens shifted. Not abruptly. Not with alarms. The Senators’ split-screen debate faded into a soft blue seal edged in gold. The murmur of the crowd lowered on instinct. Even DragonBot’s stabilizers adjusted, hovering a fraction higher, optics narrowing in quiet focus. A familiar crest resolved across every screen in the plaza—Venmoor’s national insignia, crisp and unmistakable. Ryan’s brow creased. “That’s… international.” Emily straightened slightly. “They don’t interrupt local broadcasts unless it matters.” Jack didn’t move. He only tilted his head up, one hand resting loosely near the Dragon Dagger—not in readiness, but in habit. “Let’s hear him out.” The seal dissolved. The President
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