Chapter Seventy Six
Author: Pen thinker
last update2024-12-31 19:17:53

The call came late in the evening, disrupting the tranquil silence in Damein’s villa. Jessica’s trembling voice crackled through the speaker, her words choked with fear. “Damien… they’ve taken me. Please… help.” She sounded panicked, and while Damien didn't harbor any fondness for Jessica, he recognized the weight her father’s influence carried and the complications that could arise if he ignored her plight.

Damiens jaw tightened as the call ended before he could even say something.

He wasn’t a fan of playing the hero for someone who had treated him poorly, but leaving her in danger wasn’t an option. His thoughts were pragmatic.

Something tells him it was some of Jessica's tricks , however the event of what happened the other day played in her mind, without being told he could tell sam guy might want his revenge on Jessica for what happened to him.

However Damien never wanted to go but for some reason he couldn't shake off the feelings.

“This isn’t about her. It’s about resolving
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  • Chapter 392

    The question hung in the air, heavy, unhurried, suffocating.Immediately Winston’s father’s mouth went slightly open, his eyes pushing up in both shock and mounting anger. But before he could form a response, before the thoughts even found words Damien spoke again.His voice this time was firmer. Certain.“Exactly. She didn’t do anything.”He paused, letting that truth settle like a stone in Winston’s chest.Damien’s eyes narrowed now, the mirth gone from his expression. His presence felt even more overwhelming, like the very walls were listening to him speak.“And in your case too…” he said, now circling slowly to Winston’s side.“She won’t dare, she won’t try.She wouldn’t even speak.”Still, Winston’s father’s eyes remained wide, frozen in disbelief, his entire body tense and locked in place. He couldn’t bring himself to speak—not because he didn’t want to—but because deep down, he knew what Damien had just said was the truth.When Damien killed Winston, the War Goddess did nothing

  • Chapter 391

    At that moment, Winston's father's eyes were pushed wide open, far wider than they had ever been before.He couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak either.His mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. The room that once echoed with arrogance now held nothing but a deafening silence and the horrifying sight of a severed head lying still in the center like a curse that had come true.Then it hit him, fear, it was raw, unfiltered fear.It gripped him like chains wrapped around his chest, dragging him down. His knees weakened, and he staggered backward until he fell into the chair behind him.He collapsed, his body trembling, his hand gripping the edge of the armrest like it was the only thing keeping him from passing out.His mouth quivered as he tried to gather words, but his voice betrayed him.“W-Who… who is… Tyler?” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, yet thick with desperation. “What… is going on? Why? What the hell is this?” At that moment his eyes darted between the head o

  • Chapter 390

    Then It came slowly—like a sliver of doubt slicing through all his self-assured pride. Why is he still alive? He had spent more money on contracts through the Circle than some nations spent on defense. Ruthless killers. Professionals. Men who don’t miss.Then why is Damien standing here? Not injured. Not bleeding. Not even bruised. Not breathing heavily.Winston’s father’s smile faltered ever so slightly, he blinked.A bead of sweat slipped quietly down his temple.That was when the realization hit him like a brick wall: All the countless number of jobs that he had given to the Circle… all of them were resolved quickly, seamlessly…So how come Damien is still standing? And he couldn’t believe it not even for a second that Damien had the audacity, the guts, to step his feet into his mansion. His mansion. That wasn’t courage, no. That was insult. That was a man spitting on the threshold of power. That was a declaration of war, and Winston’s father wasn’t one to take that lightly. His eye

  • Chapter 389

    Upon hearing what Damien just said, both the assassin and Winston’s father felt their anger boil. It wasn’t just what he said, it was how he said it. The mockery. The cold confidence. The way he stood in the middle of their territory, untouched and unshaken, like he owned the place.At that moment Winston’s father, unable to hold his fury any longer, stood up sharply from his chair, the legs scraping against the polished marble floor with a screech.“Did I just hear you correctly?” he spat, pointing a trembling finger toward Damien. “Did I just hear you talk to me like that? In my own house?”The assassin’s eyes narrowed, shifting between the two of them, his body subtly turning to face Damien. The tension in the air was thick, ready to snap.Then Winston’s father slammed his hand on the glass table, causing a slight crack to run through its surface. “You walk in here like you're untouchable, like nothing can happen to you?” His voice shook with rage, his face red with disbelief. “Wel

  • Chapter 388

    He paused and chuckled lightly, but it wasn’t the happy kind of laugh. It was the type of laugh that told Winston’s father, you’re playing a dangerous game.He sat back in his chair now, arms crossed on his chest, but his stare never left the man across from him. “You even mentioned General Marcus,” he said slowly, his tone tightening. “Only a few people know about what I did for him. You… you must’ve paid a lot, or scared the right people.”Winston’s father remained silent, nodding slightly. He wasn’t smiling anymore. The man in front of him was no longer just a hired gun. He was something far more dangerous. A shadow from the past.The man took in a deep breath. “But I’m not mad at that,” he said. “In fact, I respect it. You went after what you wanted, and you got it.”Then he leaned forward again, voice dropping lower. “Let me tell you this now… I don’t shy away from anything. Not from war, not from blood, not even from death. If you say this so-called person needs to disappear—” h

  • Chapter 387

    At that moment, Winston's father sat forward, his voice slow, firm, and laced with a subtle weight of authority that only men who had survived dangerous games carried in their tone. The room was quiet, lit dimly by a single chandelier overhead, casting long shadows across the table between him and the man seated across from him—a man whose silence alone could send shivers through any seasoned soldier.“The pay,” Winston’s father began, placing a thick brown envelope on the table, “is one million dollars. Half now, half when the job is done.”He slid the envelope slowly across the polished surface. It stopped just before the man’s fingers. However the man didn’t reach for it. He simply looked up, waiting.Winston’s father narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want complications. I don’t want explanations. I want confirmation.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping. “Damien. If he’s still alive, I want to know. If he’s already dead, I want proof.”There was a brief pause. A subtle shift in the ro

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