Then silence.
A wet choking sound followed.
The man collapsed.
Ethan stepped back into the moonlight holding the pistol.
Damian stared at him in horror.
Not because of the violence.
Because Ethan wasn’t angry anymore.
He looked calm.
Professional.
Like this was routine.
Ethan crouched beside him.
“You know what the worst part is?” he asked softly.
Damian trembled.
“She still defended you.”
Damian blinked.
“At the hospital… unconscious… she kept trying to move her hand.”
Ethan swallowed hard.
“The nurse said she was trying to sign something.”
He leaned closer.
“She was spelling your names.”
Damian’s face crumpled.
Not guilt.
Shame.
For the first time in his life.
Then police sirens echoed faintly in the distance.
Someone had called them.
Ethan stood.
Damian looked up desperately.
“Please…”
Ethan stared at him coldly.
“You had thirty-one chances to stop.”
Then he disappeared through the darkness before the police arrived.
By morning, the city exploded with rumors.
Damian Graves was hospitalized with catastrophic injuries.
One bodyguard dead.
The lake house destroyed.
And security footage mysteriously erased.
Harold Graves understood immediately.
War.
Real war.
He gathered his remaining sons inside the penthouse.
“No one goes anywhere alone,” he ordered.
Lucas paced furiously.
“We should kill Carter now.”
Harold nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
Ryan stared at them in disbelief.
“You still don’t understand.”
Harold slammed his glass onto the table.
“Enough!”
The room fell silent.
Harold approached Ryan carefully.
“You will stop acting afraid.”
Ryan stepped backward.
“He broke Damian in less than a minute.”
“He’s still human.”
“No,” Ryan whispered.
“That’s the problem.”
Harold’s eyes narrowed.
Then suddenly his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered cautiously.
Ethan spoke calmly from the other end.
