The First Lesson

Chapter 6

The stench of gunpowder and blood hung thick in the air. Smoke curled toward the warehouse ceiling, mixing with the flickering emergency lights that struggled against the dim haze of chaos. The once-pristine Xander Conglomerate black site was now a graveyard of bodies—Victor's elite men, trained killers, reduced to corpses on cold concrete.

Damien Xander stood in the center of it all, untouched, like a shadow of death itself. His black tactical coat remained spotless, not a drop of blood marring its surface. His obsidian eyes locked onto Victor Xander, watching the once-mighty patriarch as he trembled in disbelief.

Victor's breath was ragged, his face twisted in a mixture of pain and fury. The warehouse, his trap, was now nothing more than a monument to his own failure.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Damien was supposed to walk into an unavoidable death. Instead, he had flipped the entire ambush on its head and turned it into a slaughter.

A cold smirk tugged at the corners of Damien's lips as he took a step forward. His boots crunched over broken shell casings. The sound echoed through the empty space, filling the silence left behind by the gunfire.

"You thought you were setting a trap for me," Damien said, his voice calm, almost amused. "But you never realized that from the moment I walked in… you were the ones being hunted."

Victor clenched his fists, his body shaking. Rage. Fear. Humiliation.

"You think this makes you powerful?" Victor growled, his voice strained. "You think taking down a few disposable men changes anything?"

Damien tilted his head slightly. "You really don't get it, do you?"

And then, in a single, fluid motion—

BANG.

A gunshot rang through the warehouse.

Victor's right knee exploded in pain. He let out a raw, guttural scream as he collapsed onto the floor, blood gushing from the bullet wound. His hands scrambled for support, but there was nothing to hold onto—nothing except the cold, unforgiving ground beneath him.

Lucas Vance, Victor's head of security, flinched in shock. His eyes went wide as he stared at Damien, then at his crippled boss.

"You—you shot him?" Lucas choked out, disbelief evident in his voice.

Damien lowered his gun, his face expressionless. "If I wanted him dead, he'd already be a corpse."

Victor groaned, his breathing uneven, as he clutched his ruined knee. The pain was unbearable, like molten steel had been poured into his joint. He had never felt this helpless before.

Damien crouched down beside him, pressing the barrel of his gun against Victor's forehead. The cold metal made Victor stiffen. For the first time in his life… he felt powerless.

"This was never about killing you," Damien said softly, his voice as sharp as a blade. "That would be too easy."

He let the words sink in before continuing.

"You spent your whole life at the top, believing yourself untouchable. You built an empire on cruelty, on discarding people like they were nothing. My mother. Me."

Victor's teeth gritted in agony as he tried to push himself up, but Damien didn't let him. Instead, he pressed the gun harder against his forehead, forcing Victor to stay down.

"You're a relic, Victor," Damien continued. "A man desperately clinging to power that is already slipping through your fingers. And tonight?" He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Tonight was your first lesson in what it means to be truly powerless."

Victor's breath was ragged, his eyes burning with fury. But beneath that rage, Damien saw something even more satisfying.

Fear.

It was subtle, barely visible, but it was there. Victor Xander was afraid.

And that was more satisfying than killing him outright.

"You son of a—"

CRACK.

Damien pistol-whipped Victor across the face, the impact splitting his lip open. Blood dribbled down his chin as he groaned in pain, his body slumping against the floor.

Lucas froze, his entire body tensed like a coiled spring. He wanted to move, to fight back, but he knew. He knew that if he so much as twitched, Damien would put him down without hesitation.

A static-filled voice crackled through Damien's earpiece.

"Warehouse is clear. No reinforcements incoming. What's the call, boss?"

Damien didn't look away from Victor. He let the man suffer in silence for a moment longer before replying.

"Pull back," he said, standing up and holstering his gun. "We're done here."

Reed's voice came through again. "Copy that. Extraction in two minutes."

Lucas finally found his voice. "You're just gonna leave?" He gestured to Victor's bleeding form. "After all this, you're just gonna walk away?"

Damien gave him a cold smile. "Tonight wasn't about ending anything, Lucas."

His gaze flickered back to Victor, who lay panting, struggling to stay conscious.

"This was about sending a message."

And then, with slow, deliberate steps, Damien turned and walked away. His men melted into the shadows, disappearing like ghosts, leaving the warehouse in smoldering ruins.

Victor gritted his teeth, his bloody fingers clawing at the floor. He had never—never—felt so powerless.

And deep in his mind, despite his seething rage, one thought haunted him.

Damien is going to destroy me.

---

Xander Estate - An Hour Later

Victor sat in the backseat of his armored car, his leg hastily bandaged, his lip still bleeding. Lucas sat beside him, tense and silent.

The drive back to the Xander family estate was long and agonizing.

Victor clenched his fists. His mind was racing, rage and humiliation boiling beneath his skin.

This wasn't just a setback.

This was a public disgrace.

Word would spread. His men had been slaughtered, his trap turned against him, and worst of all—he had been spared.

Not out of mercy.

Out of pity.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. With a trembling hand, he pulled it out.

A single anonymous message had been sent.

[Enjoy the first lesson. There are plenty more to come.]

Victor's hands shook with rage.

"Sir…" Lucas hesitated before speaking. "What… what do we do now?"

Victor closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. His body ached, his knee was ruined, his ego was shattered.

But his hatred burned brighter than ever.

He slowly opened his eyes. "We call everyone," he said, his voice sharp, lethal. "I don't care what it costs. I don't care who we have to bribe. We take him down."

Lucas nodded slowly, though the uncertainty in his eyes remained.

Victor looked out the window as the car approached the Xander estate gates. The towering mansion loomed in the darkness, its golden lights glowing like a dying star.

Damien had made his first move.

Now, Victor was about to make his.

And the war had truly begun.