The guests gasped.
Lyla, who had stepped forward earlier, quickly took a step back, fearing that if she remained there, the bullet might tear through her before reaching Evelyn and her lover.
Evelyn, however, didn’t move.
She had caught her father’s finger before it could press down on the trigger.
She knew what was coming.
But instead of dodging the bullet, she turned and wrapped her arms around Damian’s frame, shielding him with her body.
It was hard to tell whether her actions had been purely instinctive or whether she had prepared herself for this moment in advance.
Whatever the reason, the moment Evelyn threw her arms around Damian, she braced herself to take the shot.
But the bullet never reached them.
Not even close.
Before the trigger could fully be pulled, Damian moved —swiftly and precisely.
He lifted Evelyn off the floor and twisted away from the direction of the gunshot, carrying her out of its path.
The sudden movement caught everyone off guard.
Yet Evelyn barely reacted.
She remained in his arms, once again feeling that familiar sense of protection she had always associated with him.
His warm, woody cologne filled her senses, calming the nerves that had been stirred by the sharp crack of the gunshot.
For a moment, the world seemed to fall silent.
The air felt serene … still.
Almost unnaturally so.
And within that silence, Evelyn heard only her own heartbeat.
His …
She heard nothing.
Her brows slowly furrowed.
She pulled her head back and looked up at him, searching his eyes.
And once again, she saw that unfamiliar gaze.
It was like looking at Damian … but not her Damian.
He was the same man she had promised herself to.
Yet somehow, he wasn’t.
Against her, he still felt as warm as ever.
But the warmth in his eyes was gone.
There was something cold there.
Something distant.
Something almost heartless.
Something she had never seen in him before.
“Damian…” She called his name softly.
Their eyes met.
And with a quiet uneasiness creeping into her voice, she asked the question she was almost afraid to hear answered.
“…you’re still the Damian I know, aren’t you?”
His hooded eyes darkened.
Before Evelyn could get him to answer —to erase the doubts beginning to form in her heart —a voice came from behind them.
“Dodging one bullet doesn’t mean you can dodge the next.” Charles’s voice was cold.
“You’re on my turf.
Don Alexander Caldwell’s territory.”
His finger pressed against the trigger again.
“Here, missing the first threat only means the worst one is on its way.”
BANG!
Another shot rang through the hall.
But this time, Damian didn’t move.
One hand remained firmly around Evelyn’s waist, keeping her close as his eyes stayed fixed on Charles Beaumont.
The amusement that had lingered in his gaze slowly disappeared.
Something darker replaced it.
At that exact moment, a series of heavy footsteps thundered through the hall.
Strong.
Distinct.
And fast.
From where Damian stood, they were impossible to miss.
But from Charles’s position, the noise was initially drowned out by the chaos around him.
By the time he realized what was happening, several men dressed entirely in black tactical gear rushed into the hall.
They moved with frightening precision.
In an instant, they formed a human shield around Damian and Evelyn.
The second bullet struck one of the men.
Yet instead of piercing through him, the impact was absorbed by the bulletproof vest beneath his clothes.
The man barely moved.
Their movements were swift, controlled, and precise as if every step had been drilled into them countless times.
Training like that didn’t come cheaply.
Charles understood that better than anyone.
His gaze immediately narrowed.
He studied the men surrounding Damian, trying to determine which family or faction they belonged to.
But he couldn’t recognize a single face.
Not one.
They were strangers.
Worse, they didn’t even look like men from Maridia.
Their features, their gear, their discipline—
Everything about them suggested they had come from somewhere far beyond the city’s borders.
“Who are you people?”
Charles’s gaze found Damian’s through the gaps between the armored men.
“How dare you sell yourself to the enemy and bring them onto my turf?”
His voice was filled with fury.
If Damian had been trained under him.
He had served under him.
That made him one of his men.
And his men were supposed to be loyal.
So how dare he bring enemy reinforcements into Beaumont territory?
Evelyn heard her father’s accusation.
Only then did she turn toward the men surrounding them.
She couldn’t see their faces clearly.
But she knew one thing.
This had nothing to do with them.
These men couldn’t possibly be rivals.
If Damian had brought them here for protection, then they had to be on their side.
They couldn’t possibly be here against her father.
Or so she believed.
Little did she know that the worst guilt …
The worst nightmare of her life …
The worst regret … was already making its way toward her.
“Father, what are you saying?” Evelyn tried to reason with him, her voice firm despite the chaos around them.
“Damian works under you.
How could he possibly join hands with the enemies?”
She looked at her father with disbelief.
“Don’t question his loyalty.
Loyalty means everything in this world.”
Her fingers tightened around Damian’s hand.
Then she tilted her face up toward him.
Her gaze was full of trust.
She trusted him.
Trusted what they had shared.
Trusted the man she had chosen.
There was no way he would betray the organization, or her father.
Not even for her sake.
Damian, however, didn’t confirm her faith in him.
He didn’t even look at her.
Instead, his gaze remained fixed on Charles.
Then he took a slow step forward.
The armored men immediately shifted, opening a path for him.
Damian walked through them without a trace of hesitation.
“Your turf?” His cold voice once again vibrated through the hall.
He stopped several steps away from Charles.
A faint, almost unreadable smile touched his lips.
“Are you sure, Capo Beaumont?”
The first four chapters are out.
Hope you enjoy it.
Let me know your thoughts in the comments.
And yes …
Yours dearest Author~