The Awakening Storm

Location: Tavara – Damien's South Coast Villa

The sun rose in soft hues over the ocean, but the warmth in the air was deceptive. Inside Damien's coastal villa, the storm brewing had nothing to do with weather patterns. It was the kind that came with truths unburied and enemies exposed.

Damien leaned against the marble balcony, shirt unbuttoned, hair tousled from a sleepless night. The call from Logan confirmed Harold had been secured and was en route to a black site in northern Spain. Alive—but only just. Ava hadn't spared much mercy.

Behind him, Nora emerged, her silk robe trailing as she approached. "You didn't sleep."

"Couldn't," Damien replied. "There's too much coming. Harold's arrest didn't send waves—it triggered earthquakes. Our silent enemies are starting to speak."

Nora laid her hand on his shoulder. "Then we're ready for them."

He turned to face her, catching the steel in her eyes—the fire that had grown stronger with every betrayal. "Are we?"

She gave a slow nod. "The families will be shaken. But they'll have to choose. Ally with us—or fall in the purge."

Just then, Damien's phone buzzed. It was Ashford.

"They moved the Falcon Protocol node," the voice on the other end said. "It's no longer in Tavara."

Damien stiffened. "Where?"

"Washington. Hidden inside a diplomatic shell company connected to the Hayward family."

Nora blinked. "That's a U.S. top-tier business dynasty. If they're involved... this goes higher than we thought."

Damien exhaled. "It's no longer about revenge. It's about survival—and legacy."

Nora gripped his arm tightly. "Then we take the fight global."

---

Location: Washington, D.C. – Unknown Coordinates

Meanwhile, in a soundproofed room beneath the Hayward Foundation building, a masked figure reviewed surveillance footage of Ava in Marrakech. His fingers paused on the keyboard as he zoomed in on her face.

"She remembers," he said to the man beside him, a silver-haired advisor in a tailored suit. "And she's not broken."

The older man's expression didn't change. "Then the operation moves to phase three. Activate the proxy."

The masked figure pressed a single button. A red light blinked twice, then a secure channel opened.

"Awaken the Ghost Protocol," he commanded. "And tell our asset in London—it's time to burn the nest."

---

Location: London – Underground Safehouse

A woman sat alone in a candlelit room, surrounded by ancient maps and coded ledgers. When the encrypted message arrived on her secure tablet, she read the words slowly, then smirked.

Finally, she whispered, "Tavara. I've waited long enough."

She reached into a metal box and pulled out a ring—a black diamond mounted on a platinum band. Sliding it onto her finger, she stood.

The Huntress was coming home.