Chapter 284: The Phantom of Power

The engine of Ochieng's Aston Martin Valkyrie hummed as he pulled into an underground garage beneath one of his lesser-known properties—a penthouse in Celestial Tower, one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city.

The doors shut behind him, reinforced with military-grade security. He stepped out, removing his black leather gloves, eyes flickering with cold calculation.

Tonight's attack wasn't a warning.

It was a declaration of war.

And if war was what they wanted, then he would bring down the heavens upon them.

—

As Ochieng entered the penthouse, a sleek, high-tech tablet on the coffee table flickered to life. A single message displayed:

"Midnight. The Lunar Palace. Come alone."

The Lunar Palace.

A private, members-only casino and gala venue where only the wealthiest figures gathered. A place where fortunes were made and destroyed over a glass of the rarest wine.

More importantly, it was owned by the Silver Serpent Syndicate—one of the Eight Major Powers.

Whoever had sent this message wanted him there.

Ochieng's lips curled. "So be it."

—

Midnight.

A Rolls-Royce Phantom, deep obsidian with a custom gold-plated grille, rolled up to The Lunar Palace. The number plate read OCH-8, a silent reminder of his dominion over the Eight Provinces.

The valet hesitated before bowing low. Everyone recognized his insignia.

Ochieng stepped out, dressed in an impeccable black tuxedo, a single silver pin on his lapel—the mark of the true ruler.

Inside, the gala was alive with laughter and whispered conversations. The city's elite—CEOs, crime lords, politicians—moved through the golden-lit hall.

But as Ochieng entered, a ripple passed through the crowd.

Eyes followed him. Whispers grew.

The ghost they had tried to bury was standing before them, unfazed, unshaken.

A predator among prey.

—

A woman in a sapphire silk dress, slit high on one leg, approached. Her perfume was intoxicating, her beauty sharp enough to cut.

"Mr. Ochieng," she murmured, handing him a crystal glass of Hennessy Paradis Imperial.

He accepted it but didn't drink.

"Who sent the invitation?" he asked.

The woman only smiled. "A ghost from your past."

Ochieng's fingers tightened around the glass.

His past was filled with ghosts.

Which one had come back to haunt him?

Before he could ask further, a deep voice echoed from the VIP balcony above.

"Welcome back, Ochieng."

He glanced up.

A man in a white suit, holding a cigar between his fingers, smirking down at him.

"Let's talk about your parents."