Chapter 24: The Price of Power

Liam sat in his penthouse study, the dim light casting sharp shadows across the glass table. His fingers tapped rhythmically as he reviewed the past twenty-four hours—a bounty on his head, an assassination attempt, and a cryptic message from an unknown enemy.

The city skyline stretched before him, a landscape of towering ambitions and crumbling secrets. He had survived the night, but the real question was: How many more would come?

His phone vibrated on the table, an unknown number flashing across the screen.

Unknown Number: Still standing? Impressive. But the next wave will be worse.

Liam smirked, typing back.

Liam: Send them all. I need the exercise.

The moment he set the phone down, another message appeared.

Seraphina: Meet me at The Eclipse in 30 minutes. No excuses.

Liam exhaled. The Eclipse was more than just an underground club—it was the heart of the elite, where deals were made and power was bought. If Seraphina was summoning him there, it meant the game had just changed.

Thirty minutes later, Liam stepped through the heavy steel doors of The Eclipse. The scent of whiskey, cigar smoke, and money hung in the air.

The rich and powerful lounged around velvet-lined poker tables, billionaires betting empires as casually as commoners gambled away their paychecks. This was where alliances were forged, betrayals were sealed, and kings were either crowned or buried.

Seraphina sat in a secluded booth, a glass of bourbon in her delicate fingers. The dark red gown she wore shimmered under the dim lighting, clinging to her body like liquid fire.

Liam slid into the seat across from her. "What's so urgent?"

She pushed a black envelope toward him. "Read."

Liam opened it, eyes scanning the contents. It was a formal invitation to a high-stakes auction—one that involved assets worth billions. But what caught his attention was the final item on the list:

"The Legacy Vault—control over The Velasco Empire."

His grip on the paper tightened. "Dante Velasco is dead. Who put this up for sale?"

Seraphina sipped her bourbon. "That's the question, isn't it?"

Liam's mind raced. Someone was selling Dante's empire, which meant they either had control over it or were luring players into a deadly game.

Either way, it was a declaration of war.

Before Liam could respond, a low voice interrupted.

"I see you received your invitation."

Liam turned to see Lucian Hawthorne standing behind him, his presence like a thunderstorm in a tailored suit.

Lucian slid into the seat beside Seraphina, his expression unreadable. "Are you interested in bidding, Liam?"

Liam smirked. "I prefer to take what's mine."

Lucian chuckled. "That's what makes you dangerous. But you should know—you're not the only one with their eyes on the prize."

Liam already knew that. The Graves family, the underworld mafias, corporate titans—everyone wanted a piece of The Velasco Empire.

And if he wanted to win, he'd have to play the deadliest game of his life.

As Liam left The Eclipse, his thoughts swirled. The auction was in three days. That gave him just enough time to gather intel, strategize, and prepare.

But as he stepped onto the dark streets, his instincts screamed at him.

Something was off.

The city was too quiet.

A flicker of movement in the alley caught his attention.

Then—gunfire.

Liam dove behind a parked car as bullets shredded the pavement around him. His attackers weren't amateurs—they were professionals.

His mind calculated instantly. Two snipers, three ground operatives. A coordinated ambush.

Liam smirked. "Amateurs."

With precise movements, he returned fire, his bullets finding their mark. The first attacker collapsed, while the others scrambled for cover.

One of the snipers hesitated—just long enough for Liam to take his shot.

The body hit the pavement.

The last remaining shooter turned to flee, but Liam was faster. He tackled the man, pinning him to the ground.

"Who sent you?" Liam growled.

The man coughed, blood staining his lips. "You think you can take Velasco's throne? You're already dead."

Liam's eyes darkened. He pressed the barrel of his gun to the man's temple. "Tell your boss I'm coming."

A single shot rang out.

Liam rose, wiping the blood from his cheek.

This was no longer about inheritance.

This was war.

And he was about to win it all.

Liam returned to his penthouse, his shirt soaked in blood—none of it his.

As he stepped inside, a familiar presence awaited him in the shadows.

Alec Donovan.

Alec was more than just a bodyguard—he was a ghost in the underworld, a man feared even by assassins.

Liam tossed his gun onto the table. "You were watching, weren't you?"

Alec smirked. "You handled it well. But next time, let me take the snipers."

Liam poured himself a drink. "Next time, there won't be snipers."

Alec's smirk faded. "You sure about that?"

Liam met his gaze. "No. But I'm prepared for whatever comes."

Alec nodded, handing Liam a file. "Then you'll want to see this."

Liam opened it.

Inside was a single photograph—a black card with the Velasco insignia.

His blood ran cold.

Only one person in the world carried that card.

And he had been dead for years.

Liam's fingers clenched the photograph. If this was real… then the war had only just begun.

Alec's voice was low. "What's our next move?"

Liam smirked, tossing back his drink.

"We crash the auction."

Alec's grin matched his. "And burn the whole place down?"

Liam chuckled darkly. "Something like that."

As the city lights flickered outside, Liam knew the real game was only beginning.

And this time—he wouldn't just play. He would end it.