Charles frowned at his tone…
at the confidence behind it.
“What do you mean?”
His gaze swept across the hall.
Except for the handful of men who had entered and formed a human shield around the defector, there was no one else.
Even if those men had received top-grade training, a handful of them couldn’t possibly defeat his army.
And as long as his army remained standing, Maridia would remain his turf.
“You think bringing a few men here changes who rules this territory?” Charles scoffed, his voice laced with furious arrogance.
“If that’s what you believe, then you’ve greatly overestimated yourself…
and your men.”
His gaze hardened.
“They may be skilled, but they aren’t enough to take me down.” He paused.
“Maridia is still under the Caldwell family’s rule.
One rat like you isn’t going to change that.”
Damian heard the insult and couldn’t help but smirk.
Again.
The same arrogance.
The same certainty that the man standing before him still held all the cards.
“That depends on how accurate your assumption about the rat is.” His voice remained calm.
Then, slowly, his tone dropped lower.
“Is it really a rat…” He paused.
“…or is it something you simply cannot fathom?”
Evelyn stood behind him, listening to every word.
She wanted to trust him.
She wanted to ignore everything he was saying and hold on to the man she knew.
But with every word that left his mouth, the doubt inside her only deepened.
No.
She scolded herself silently.
What are you even thinking, Evelyn?
He’s Damian.
You know him.
He’s here for you.
He came here because of you.
Doubting him means doubting your love.
Don’t do it.
She repeated those words to herself again and again, desperately trying to make herself believe them.
But the more she stared at his cold, distant back, the less convincing they became.
He looked like the man she had fallen for.
But he no longer felt like him.
Even standing so close to him, Evelyn felt miles away —as if an invisible distance had suddenly stretched between them.
And no matter how far she reached…
She wasn’t sure she could reach him anymore.
Slowly, she raised her hand.
She wanted to touch him —just once.
Just to feel that familiar warmth again.
But before her fingers could reach him, Damian shifted a step forward.
It wasn’t intentional.
He didn’t even seem to notice.
But Evelyn did.
Her hand froze in midair before slowly falling back to her side.
Her heart clenched.
A strange heaviness settled in her chest, making it difficult to breathe.
She swallowed and forced herself to calm down.
He’s still Damian.
She had to believe that.
She had to.
But just as she managed to convince herself again, a series of heavy footsteps echoed through the hall.
Everyone turned toward the entrance.
Several men dressed in black walked in.
They weren’t wearing identical uniforms, yet there was something unmistakably uniform about them —their movements, their posture, the way they walked in formation.
They looked less like a group of men and more like a small army moving with a single purpose.
And at the front walked a man who looked completely different from the others.
He wore a brown suit.
A pair of large, round glasses rested on his nose, and his neatly swept hair gave him an almost scholarly appearance.
In his hands was a black box.
He glanced briefly toward Evelyn before continuing forward to walk straight toward Damian.
He only stopped one step behind him.
Then, in a polite whisper, he said,
“Sir, I brought what you asked for.”
Damian briefly glanced over his shoulder.
His eyes dropped to the box.
He didn’t acknowledge the man’s words.
Instead, he turned his attention back to Charles, as though it was finally time to get to the point of his visit.
“Let’s stop wasting time, Capo Beaumont.” His words carried impatience, but his voice remained unnervingly calm.
“Marry your daughter to me, and this night ends peacefully.”
His gaze swept briefly across the terrified guests.
“For you.” Then toward the men surrounding them.
“And for everyone else.”
Charles’s face darkened instantly.
“Who do you think you are?”
His voice thundered through the hall.
“You walk into my territory, bring armed men into my place, and now you think you can demand my daughter?”
His eyes swept over the men standing behind Damian.
“Or do you think a few men from whatever enemy faction you’re serving are enough to give you the power to threaten my family?”
His jaw clenched.
“No enemy has ever become powerful enough to stand on Beaumont ground and make demands of us.”
His eyes returned to Damian.
“You’re nothing but a rat who has forgotten his place.”
A subtle tension passed through the men behind Damian.
Several shifted their weight.
The man in the brown suit was no exception.
His expression hardened, and his fingers tightened slightly around the box.
Yet none of them moved.
Not one.
They remained exactly where they were, as though a single unspoken order was all that kept them from acting.
Damian didn’t even look back at them.
He simply stared at Charles —calm, unhurried, almost indifferent.
Then his lips curved into the faintest smile, one that almost made him look unoffended.
“Interesting.”
Charles’s brows furrowed.
But before he could say anything, one of his men hurried toward him and leaned down to whisper in his ear.
“Boss, that’s the secretary to the Callahan Group.”
Charles paused.
The frown between his brows deepened.
“Who did you say?”
The man pointed toward the man in brown.
“That’s Xavier Stone.
He’s been the face of Callahan Corp at every major event.” He hesitated before adding, “And those men … they seem to be from the Pentarchy Syndicate.”
“Xavier Stone … and the Pentarchy Syndicate …”
Charles repeated the names as the recognition came slowly.
The man nodded.
“Yes, they all are carrying the small crest of the Syndicate embroidered onto their collars.
Only soldiers of the Pentarchy wear it.”
Only then did Charles notice the detail.
The tiny embroidery wasn’t part of their uniform.
It wasn’t required —not at all compulsory.
But it was a mark of pride.
The soldiers of the Pentarchy wore it willingly as a reminder of whom they followed —and of the blood oath they had sworn.
They were no ordinary men.
They were Pentarchy soldiers.
Charles’s expression changed.
Suddenly, the headlines about Callahan projects, acquisitions, investments, and funding from the past several months began flashing through his mind.
Every one of them had carried the same message.
The Callahans were investing heavily in Maridia.
And there had been one man overseeing deal after deal, project after project.
Xavier Stone.
That was him.
But why was he standing behind that rat?
Charles’s gaze narrowed as he looked back at Damian.
Something didn’t add up.
The way these men surrounded him…
It didn’t feel like they were here to help him.
They looked like they were here for him.
“Who are you?”
For the first time, uncertainty crept into Charles’s voice.
“You cannot be my man.”
Damian slipped his hands into his pockets.
A faint smirk touched his lips.
“You finally figured it out.”
His eyes weren’t playful.
They were sharp.
As though he had been waiting for Charles to reach this conclusion.
As though he had been waiting for him to learn who he really was…
Not for days.
Not for months.
But for a decade or more.
His gaze grew colder.
Xavier took a step forward.
“This is Damian Callahan,” he announced calmly.
“Head of the Callahan family and CEO of Callahan Corp.”
The name of the Callahan family meant little to some in the hall.
But Callahan Corp?
Every person there had heard of it.
The moment the truth sank in, surprised gasps swept through the wedding hall.
“Callahan Corp…”
“Isn’t that the emerging conglomerate in Maridia?”
“I heard they’ve rapidly expanded their influence across both the economic and political landscape of the country.
How could someone like him be the CEO of such a powerful organization?”
“And if he really was the CEO, why would he become a lowly henchman for the Beaumonts?”
A pause.
“Could it have been because of the second Beaumont daughter?”
Whispers of curiosity and suspicion filled the air.
But the person most stunned by the revelation was Evelyn.
She felt as though the entire world had suddenly tilted beneath her feet.
Everything was confusing.
Too confusing.
Damian…
He was her father’s man.
That was what he had told her.
Then how had he turned out to be someone else entirely?
Had he lied to her?
Had he fabricated his entire identity?
Why?
Why would he do that?
She couldn’t make sense of the lie.
Couldn’t reconcile the man she knew with the truth standing before her.
Unable to bear the confusion any longer, Evelyn lunged forward and grabbed his arm.
She forcefully turned him around to face her.
Their eyes met, and she didn’t look away.
Staring right into his eyes, she asked.
Her voice trembled, but there was no weakness in it.
“Explain!”
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