The morning sun climbed over Bansha, pushing back the remnants of night. A black SUV weaved aggressively through District Twelve, overtaking slower vehicles as it raced toward its destination.
Rose sat behind the wheel, her expression tense and unreadable. Beside her, Damien gazed out the window with what appeared to be childlike wonder, as though every building and street corner was new to him.
She glanced at him repeatedly, trying to pierce through whatever facade he was wearing. If she studied him long enough, perhaps she could uncover his true intentions.
"Commander Rose?"
Damien's voice was gentle, almost hesitant.
"Why are you helping me when I can't even remember who I am?"
Rose's hands tightened around the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. She refused to believe a single word he said. This man was lying; she was certain of it.
"It's really nothing."
Her smile was forced and came out looking more like a grimace.
"When I searched for you in our database, nothing came up. You have no identity, no home, nowhere to go. If I left you alone, you'd probably end up dead in an alley somewhere."
They exchanged polite smiles that held no warmth whatsoever. His expressed gratitude, hers acceptance. In their minds, however, each was cursing the other thoroughly.
Eventually, the SUV pulled up to an impressive estate. The mansion sprawled across manicured grounds, surrounded by high fencing topped with security lights so bright they nearly eclipsed the early dawn.
Damien took in every detail of the buildings and grounds with apparent fascination, reacting exactly as someone seeing luxury for the first time might.
From his peripheral vision, he could see Rose studying him like a predator watching prey, alert for any slip in his performance.
Whenever her attention drifted elsewhere, his expression would shift. A cold smile would flicker across his features before vanishing again.
"Peeerrrfect. Everything is unfolding exactly according to plan. I've been patient for years. The Casters won't realize mu identity until it's too late."
Rose pressed her finger against a biometric scanner mounted beside the gate. After a moment, it chimed in recognition.
"Welcome. Miss. Rose."
A robotic voice spoke as the gates swung open automatically, revealing an impressive security presence.
Armed guards stood at regular intervals throughout the visible grounds. Security cameras swept the area methodically, and trained dogs patrolled alongside their handlers.
Damien suppressed a scoff.
"She learned nothing from our previous encounter. The border crossing had triple this security, and I walked right through it. Does she really think this will stop me?"
The vehicle rolled to a stop near the main entrance. Rose stepped out, and immediately a line of household staff materialized, bowing in perfect synchronization.
Their coordinated greeting faltered when Damien emerged from the passenger side.
The servants stared openly at the tall stranger with his muscular build and intense eyes.
None of them had ever seen their mistress bring a man to the family estate, especially not one dressed in torn, dirty clothing.
Despite Damien's attempt to make himself less noticeable, his physical presence was impossible to hide.
"My daughter has returned!"
The staff parted as an older gentleman approached. He appeared to be in his late fifties, leaning on an elegant cane while dressed in an expensive tailored suit.
Lance Caster carried himself with dignity despite his age.
The older man's face brightened considerably when he noticed Damien.
Lance walked directly to the stranger and looked him over from head to toe. He adjusted his gold-framed glasses and grinned broadly.
"What's this? Has my princess finally brought home a suitor? I should give thanks for this blessing."
Rose's face flushed deep red with embarrassment and anger.
"Father! He is not my boyfriend."
She gestured sharply at Damien, who had arranged his features into an expression of perfect innocence, like a child who knows they've caused trouble but pretends otherwise.
"Do you honestly think I would date someone who looks like this?" She jabbed a finger toward his ragged clothes.
"Ridiculous!"
She spun toward the head of household staff.
"Miss Margaret, this is Damien. He'll be our guest for a while. Please take him to the eighth residence and find him appropriate clothing."
Without waiting for acknowledgment, Rose stormed toward the main house. Her father followed, already beginning a familiar lecture about marriage and grandchildren.
The head maid escorted Damien to his temporary quarters. The eighth building was considered minor by the estate's standards, yet it still radiated wealth and comfort.
He showered quickly and changed into the nightclothes that had been provided.
Unfortunately, the maid had misjudged his size significantly.
The pajamas hung loosely on his frame. He gathered his long black hair and secured it in a knot before stepping back into the corridor.
"Anyone who doesn't know better might think the Casters were generous, compassionate people. The truth couldn't be more different,"
Damien thought as he walked leisurely through the main house's corridors.
The guards paid him no attention whatsoever, standing motionless at their posts with weapons ready.
"First I need to examine this entire mansion. Knowing the ins and outs will be crucial to my missions."
While checking out the place, he caught the sound of raised voices coming from deeper in the house.
"This isn't fair at all."
He recognized Rose's voice immediately. Following the sound, he moved closer as additional voices became audible.
"Mr. Evans, I believe you're overstepping here. My daughter hasn't made any decisions yet. You cannot simply force her into marriage."
The conversation grew clearer as he approached. Interestingly, this section of the house had no security presence, suggesting the meeting was meant to be confidential.
The guards had apparently been instructed to allow him passage because of his "guest" status.
Damien looked carefully around a corner and observed the scene in an opulent sitting room.
Rose and her father occupied one side of the space, facing a young man who sat opposite them.
The visitor wore an immaculate blue suit. He sat with his legs crossed casually and his arms spread across the back of the sofa.
Everything about his posture and appearance suggested he was accustomed to getting whatever he wanted.
He pushed his glasses higher on his nose before speaking.
"Let's discuss reality for a moment, Mr. Caster. Your daughter isn't getting any younger."
Mr. Evans smiled.
"She needs to settle down with someone appropriate. Look around honestly and tell me who could possibly be more suitable, more deserving of her, than myself? The eldest son of the Evans family?"
Lance shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He looked toward Rose, who had changed into casual evening clothes. Her arms were crossed defensively, and her expression was furious.
"I didn't expect the second daughter of Lance Caster to be so fierce. She seems angry all the time. I don't think I've seen her smile genuinely once,"
Damien observed silently.
"Mr. Evans, very well. I understand what you're proposing. Given your family's prominence and influence, how could I possibly refuse your interest?"
Lance attempted to touch his daughter's cheek affectionately. She slapped his hand away.
"Young people today have such tempers."
He laughed nervously.
"I'll speak with her privately. She'll be prepared for our next meeting."
Evans nodded with satisfaction.
At that moment, Damien walked directly into the living room. His oversized pajamas looked absurd on his powerful build, yet somehow his striking features overcame even that.
Every person in the room turned to stare. Evans, Lance, and Rose all registered his presence with vastly different reactions.
Evans, in particular, went rigid, his eyes narrowing.
"Who is that man?"
Lance recognized the shift in atmosphere immediately. He rushed to defuse the situation, terrified of offending someone from the Evans family.
"Him? That's nobody important, just someone my daughter works with who needed help."
Rather than calming Evans, this explanation seemed to enrage him further.
He had pursued Rose relentlessly for years, trying everything to convince her to marry into his family. She had never allowed even the smallest intimacy, refusing dates and rejecting every advance.
Yet somehow this stranger was already staying in her home, dressed in sleepwear.
"A coworker? If you told me he was family, a brother or cousin perhaps, I might understand. But just a coworker?"
Evans stood up abruptly, his earlier relaxed demeanor completely gone.
"She brought a coworker here to spend the night?"
His words cut through the room like a blade. Even Rose looked concerned; she knew how dangerous his temper was.
"Evans, calm down. Don't do anything you'll regret."
Although she disliked Damien, she still needed him alive for the investigation.
Evans ignored her completely.
He snapped his fingers sharply, and his two bodyguards moved to attention.
"I think we should properly greet my future wife's coworker."
Lance pushed himself up quickly, leaning heavily on his cane. Rose spun around, her hair whipping with the motion. Both looked nervous about what might happen next.
A barely perceptible smile touched the corners of Damien's mouth. He remained silent, watching calmly as Evans and his security approached.
Evans made a subtle gesture to one of his guards. The man stepped forward immediately.
He stood at least six and a half feet tall, with a build suggesting serious combat training.
"My name is Jack Evans, firstborn son of the Evans family. And you are?"
Damien inclined his head politely.
"Damien Smith. Pleasure to meet you."
"I apologize, but I don't shake hands personally. My security handles that for me."
The massive bodyguard extended his hand toward Damien.
Evans smiled in anticipation, clearly expecting something specific to happen.
"This fool has no idea what he's getting into. I'll teach him to regret ever meeting my future bride. Blake will break every bone in his hand."
Damien looked at the massive hand extended toward him. He reached out and grasped the bodyguard's hand firmly.
Evans waited eagerly for the sounds of pain and distress.
If Rose and her father weren't blocked from seeing, they would have screamed at Damien not to accept Blake's hand.
The room was quiet for a moment, and the handshake continued for several long seconds, but Damien showed absolutely no discomfort.
Evans stared in confusion. His eyes darted between the clasped hands and Damien's face, searching for signs of agony. Instead, he saw only a calm, pleasant smile.
"What is happening? Does he have nerve damage or something? Is he unable to feel pain?"
Evans mind raced.
Then, a sickening crunch echoed through the quiet room. Evans jerked his attention to his bodyguard, and his jaw dropped open.
Blake, his elite personal security guard, had sweat pouring down his face as though he stood in a furnace.
He grunted through clenched teeth, his face contorted in obvious pain. His left eye twitched uncontrollably.
When he looked at Damien, his expression held pure confusion and fear, as though he couldn't comprehend what kind of person possessed such inhuman strength.