Just outside the Music square.
The thud-thud-thud of helicopter blades echoed across Ravenmoor’s Music Square. A gust of wind swept the plaza as the black military chopper descended. Onlookers craned their necks. Street vendors paused mid-sale. Security personnel scanned the rooftops.
The helicopter doors slid open with a hiss.
Clara and Hannah stepped out first, hair whipping in the wind, their eyes filled with awe. Soldiers saluted them. Every camera in the vicinity turned their way, assuming they were entourage to the man the entire city had been expecting.
Jaden remained seated in the chopper.
“Jaden, aren’t you coming with us?” Hannah turned back, voice barely audible over the roar.
Jaden looked up slowly, calm but focused. “No. I’ve got something else to take care of.”
Clara tilted her head. “You’re not joining the reception?”
He smiled faintly. “I’ll catch up later. Go on.”
Hannah looked as if she wanted to say more, but Clara tugged her sleeve. The two women walked into the square, escorted by soldiers and media drones.
As the crowd cheered for what they thought was the King of War’s welcoming party, Jaden stepped out from the other side of the chopper, flanked by Drax.
Drax, massive and silent, carried a long, human-shaped sack slung casually over his shoulder.
Peter Gravesend.
His body—broken, bound, and unconscious—hung limply like discarded trash.
---
Inside the Gravesend Group Tower
The Gravesend Group skyscraper stood like a throne in the business district—sleek black walls, tinted windows, automated gates, and private security stationed like chess pieces at the entrance.
Two guards were at their post when Jaden and Drax approached, their footsteps calm, unhurried.
“Stop right there,” one guard barked, stepping forward. “Identify yourselves!”
Jaden halted. His eyes gleamed like steel under the tower's glass reflection. “Tell Williams Gravesend that I'm here to see him. He’ll find me in his office… with his son.”
The two guards exchanged glances, their stance tightening.
“Do you have an appointment?” the second one scoffed. “Or a business card, perhaps?”
Jaden stared at them for a second. His silence felt heavier than any insult.
“No business card—no meeting,” the first said again, this time reaching for his radio. “You can’t just—”
Thud!
Drax suddenly hurled the sack at their feet. It hit with a crack, knocking both guards off balance. They fell backward in a tangled heap of limbs and stunned expressions. As they scrambled to get up, the sack rolled open slightly, revealing Peter’s battered, bloodied face.
Two battered guards stumbled in, faces bruised, shirts torn. One of them clutched his ribs; the other had a black eye swelling rapidly.
“Master Williams!” the first guard gasped. “We—we have a situation!”
Williams stormed toward them and grabbed one by the shirt, rage boiling over. “Did you see him?! The King of War—where is he? Tell me where he is right now!”
The guard’s voice cracked. “Sir… it’s not him. It’s—it’s not the King of War.”
Williams froze.
“What did you just say?”
“The ones who broke in… it’s not the king’s men.”
The second guard swallowed hard.
“It’s them. The kidnappers. They’ve broken into the Gravesend Group.”
The room fell into stunned silence.
Williams’ grip on the guard’s shirt slackened.
His lips barely moved.
“What… did you say?”

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