Chapter 7: A blade Beneath the Rose

A Blade Beneath the Rose

The morning came with a deceptive calm.

Sunlight filtered softly through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Grayson estate, casting golden hues across the polished marble. Damien stood silently in the hallway, fully dressed in a crisp navy suit, watching the world outside with a frown stitched across his face.

He hadn't slept.

The message from the night before — the blood-scrawled message, the confirmed fingerprint — it haunted him.

Adrian. Could he be alive?

He barely heard the soft footsteps until they stopped behind him.

"You're not the only one who's seen ghosts," Nora's voice was quiet, but it held steel.

Damien didn't turn. "You're remarkably calm for someone under contract surveillance."

"And you're remarkably bad at hiding secrets for someone who owns half the world."

He finally looked over his shoulder. Nora stood with her arms crossed, hair tied back, her eyes unreadable — except for a flicker of something ancient beneath the surface. Not fear. Not curiosity. Control.

Damien studied her for a long moment. "Why are you really here, Nora?"

She smiled faintly. "Same reason as you. Answers."

Before he could respond, a sharp buzz cut through the air — an alert on both their devices.

INCOMING BREACH — PERIMETER SOUTH WALL

Nora moved first.

Without hesitation, she flipped her bracelet screen, activating thermal surveillance. "Four signatures. Fast. Armed."

Damien had already pulled a concealed pistol from behind the hallway's ornate panel.

But it wasn't just any pistol.

It hummed with a low-frequency energy signature. Something custom. Something not on the market.

Nora's eyes flicked to it. "Energy disruptor? That's military-grade tech."

He gave her a tight smile. "Some ghosts leave behind interesting toys."

They moved in sync, silently navigating toward the breach zone. Outside, the estate's automated defenses were already engaged — electric shielding shimmered briefly before shattering with a pulse bomb. Smoke rolled in.

Then came the attackers.

Four figures in black, their movements unnaturally quick, faces hidden behind tactical visors. But Nora could feel it — their aura wasn't normal. Something darker coursed through their veins.

Cultivation?

No… drugs. Synthetic qi enhancers.

"Mercenary junkies," she muttered.

They struck hard and fast. One attacker lunged for Damien — he sidestepped, delivering a precise blow to the ribcage, followed by a neck snap that dropped the man instantly.

Another fired at Nora — she spun mid-air, dodging the bullet, and landed a devastating kick to the gunman's jaw. Her hand moved with impossible speed, drawing a hidden blade from her sleeve.

Slash. Artery. Down.

Damien caught it.

Her move. That speed.

He filed it away.

But she noticed something too.

When he disarmed the third assailant and reversed the man's rifle in under two seconds, there was no hesitation. No wasted motion. His grip? Pure military. But not just trained — honed. This wasn't security training. This was battlefield instinct.

The final attacker turned to flee — but Damien's voice rang out cold and clear.

"Bring him down."

Nora's eyes flared. She hurled a blade.

Direct hit — the man screamed, collapsing with a slice across his Achilles.

Later, they stood over the last survivor, now restrained and trembling.

Damien crouched, pulling off the man's helmet. "Who sent you?"

The man spat.

Nora leaned down, her eyes glowing faintly. Just for a second.

The man froze.

Whatever he saw in her… it broke him.

He whispered: "Ashbringer… they're coming."

Then, before they could stop him, he bit down — a hidden cyanide tooth. Dead.

Damien stood slowly. "We're being hunted."

Nora nodded. "And someone's accelerating the game."