At the sprawling Blake estate
Inside the grand study, Damian Blake, patriarch of the Blake family, paced restlessly across the marble floor, veins throbbing at his temples. His wife, Vivienne Blake, elegant yet venomous, sat stiffly by the window, her polished nails digging into the armrest.
Their world had crumbled.
Their only son, Andrew Blake, the pride of the Blake name, was permanently disabled — crippled, humiliated, his future extinguished. Worse, the family legacy was now at risk. Andrew could no longer father an heir.
Vivienne’s eyes were bloodshot with rage as she muttered under her breath, “That bastard… That lowlife dared to touch our bloodline… He ruined our son…” Her voice cracked, part fury, part heartbreak.
Damian slammed his palm against the mahogany desk, the wood creaking under his strength. “And the bounty?” he snapped toward the guards standing along the wall. “We sent elite hunters, mercenaries, assassins… Not one of them returned alive! Who the hell is this Jaden?!”
The guards remained silent, heads lowered, fear lingering in the air like smoke after gunfire.
Just then, a nervous guard rushed in, panting heavily. “S-Sir, Madam… We have an intruder on the grounds.”
Damian barely glanced at him, waving him off. “Deal with it. Do I look like I have time for low-level nonsense? Unless it’s him—”
“It is,” the guard blurted. “It’s Jaden. The one we’ve been hunting… He’s here.”
The room fell silent for half a heartbeat.
Vivienne shot to her feet like a whip. Her eyes sharpened into icy daggers as she marched up to the guard. SLAP! Her palm cracked across his face, sending him stumbling.
“And you’re standing here?!” she screamed, her voice shrill with fury. “Kill that bastard! I want his head on our doorstep, now!”
The guard scrambled back, nodding furiously before bolting out the room.
Damian’s expression darkened as he walked toward the towering window overlooking the vast compound. His sharp eyes focused beyond the mansion walls — at the lone figure standing calmly outside their gates.
Jaden.
Outside, under the glare of security lights, Jaden stood relaxed, hands in his pockets, a casual smirk curling on his lips. The Blake security unit — dozens of trained fighters, all armed — had surrounded him.
Jaden’s eyes drifted across them like they were mere insects.
“Tsk.” He shook his head with playful disappointment. “Looks like the Blakes aren’t big on hospitality. I knock, and you greet me with guns?” His voice was smooth, arrogant, untouchable.
The line connected instantly. “Captain Steven,” Damian’s voice was low, venomous. “The bastard who crippled my son is here. He’s breached the compound.”
On the other end, a cold, confident voice replied, “Understood. I’ll handle it personally.”
Jaden strolled deeper into the compound, stepping over the wreckage, his posture loose, his confidence unshaken.
“This is it?” Jaden called out, voice dripping with mockery. “I heard the Blake family is a military powerhouse… This feels like a kindergarten brawl.”
As if on cue, more men emerged — towering figures clad in combat gear, and among them, two distinct individuals stepped forward.
The first — Captain Steven — broad shoulders, towering height, his presence radiating lethal authority. His glare burned with hatred.
Beside him stood an elderly man, cloaked in a dark robe, his sharp eyes filled with quiet malice — a veteran of countless unseen wars.
“You’ve got some nerve…” Captain Steven snarled, stepping forward. “You cripple our young master… humiliate the Blakes… and you still have the audacity to show your face here?”
Jaden chuckled lightly, his smirk widening as his gaze danced between them. “The bounty you slapped on my head? Worthless. No one could collect.” His eyes gleamed dangerously. “So I figured… why not deliver myself? Saves everyone the trouble.”

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