Chapter 26: The Bloodstained Auction

The luxurious underground auction house had transformed into a warzone. Chandeliers swayed from the vibrations of distant explosions, their crystals raining onto the bloodstained marble floors. The once-elegant tables, where billionaires and criminals had casually bid on priceless artifacts, were now overturned, serving as makeshift cover for the terrified elites.

Amid the chaos, Liam Velasco remained eerily calm. His heartbeat didn't race, his hands didn't shake. This was what he had been trained for.

Then, the lights flickered back on—not the golden glow of wealth and power, but a haunting, blood-red illumination.

And there, standing at the heart of it all, was the man with the Black Card.

Liam's breath hitched. That face…

A ghost from the past. A man buried under secrets. A legend that should have never walked the earth again.

Dante Velasco.

Liam clenched his fists, his voice razor-sharp. "You're supposed to be dead."

Dante smirked, his deep-set eyes gleaming with amusement. "And you're supposed to be obedient. But here you are—fighting for a throne you don't even understand."

Before Liam could respond, the air shimmered with danger.

A dozen heavily armed men stepped forward, their weapons aimed straight at him. The barrels of their rifles glinted under the crimson light.

Lucian Hawthorne had vanished—a rat fleeing the sinking ship.

Seraphina Caldwell, the enigmatic heir to the Caldwell fortune, took a slow step backward, her confident smirk replaced by something far more calculated. Would she fight? Would she run? Would she betray?

Liam didn't wait to find out.

His earpiece crackled. Alec's voice was tight. "Orders?"

Liam's mind moved like a machine. Escape wasn't an option. Negotiation? Impossible.

That left only one path.

War.

His fingers twitched. The air grew thick with the scent of sweat, gunpowder, and expensive cologne.

Then, he moved.

Liam dived forward, faster than a gunman could react. His elbow connected brutally with the man's jaw, sending him sprawling. In the same motion, he ripped the rifle from the soldier's hands.

A single gunshot echoed.

One enemy down.

He pivoted. Another lunged. Liam sidestepped, slamming the rifle butt into his attacker's throat. A gargled choke—two down.

The room erupted into gunfire.

Alec's voice snapped through the earpiece. "We're coming in hot, stay alive!"

The auction's guests had long since fled, leaving only killers, mercenaries, and ghosts of the underworld.

Seraphina moved like a viper, her silver heels barely making a sound as she danced through the carnage, twin daggers flashing. She sliced a man's wrist, disarming him, before slitting another's throat.

But Dante… he didn't move.

The Black Card holder simply watched. Assessing. Calculating. Amused.

Liam narrowed his eyes. Why wasn't he fighting?

Dante Velasco had been presumed dead for over a decade.

The man had vanished after the brutal massacre of the Velasco family, leaving behind nothing but whispers and ghost stories.

And yet, here he stood—alive. Unscathed. In control.

Liam didn't trust coincidences.

With one swift motion, he grabbed a nearby chair and hurled it directly at Dante.

Dante didn't even flinch. A single step to the side, and the chair crashed behind him.

Then, he finally spoke.

"You don't understand what you're stepping into, Liam."

Liam's grip tightened around his stolen rifle. "Then enlighten me."

Dante chuckled. "You're not ready for the truth."

Liam didn't hesitate. He fired.

But the bullet never reached him.

A sharp clink rang out as the bullet ricocheted off a metal plate—a hidden bodyguard.

A second gunman emerged from the shadows, raising his weapon toward Liam's head.

Damn it.

Before the gunman could fire, a flash of silver cut through the air.

A throwing knife—precise, deadly—lodged deep into the man's throat.

Liam turned sharply. Seraphina stood a few feet away, panting, blood splattered on her once-perfect gown.

"You owe me," she purred.

Liam exhaled sharply, shifting his focus. "We're not done here."

Dante was already retreating.

Liam surged forward, but gunfire rained down from above.

More reinforcements. Too many.

Alec's voice barked through the earpiece. "We need to go. Now!"

Liam's jaw clenched. He hated running.

But this fight wasn't over.

With a final glare at Dante, Liam turned on his heel and sprinted toward the emergency exit, Seraphina at his side.

The underground tunnels beneath the auction house were dark, humid, and suffocating.

Their footsteps echoed as they ran, each turn bringing them closer to the surface.

"We can't just leave him," Liam growled.

Alec, already waiting with an armored car, threw open the door. "You want to fight an entire militia alone? Get in."

Liam hesitated.

Seraphina placed a delicate hand on his arm. "He's not running. He's luring you in."

Liam hated that she was right.

He climbed into the car, slamming the door behind him. The engine roared, tires screeching as they sped into the night.

But his mind wasn't on the road.

It was on Dante Velasco.

On the truth.

On the war that had only just begun.