The villa was no longer a home; it was a command center. While Nick and Simon were kept in the high-security recreational wing, unaware of the violence unfolding across the city, Einstein stood in the subterranean war room with Rhea.
The signed Iron-Core contract sat on a digital scanner, but Einstein wasn't looking at the profits. He was staring at a holographic map of the city's industrial district. A red dot pulsed over an old textile mill owned by a shell company.
"The four men Rhea neutralized in the garage were 'Hounds' from the Black Dragon Clan," Rhea reported, her voice as sharp as a blade. "They are the local muscle for the Council. They report directly to General Kael's lieutenant, a man known as The Butcher."
Einstein's eyes glowed with a faint, predatory light. "The Council thinks they can target my wife to lure me out. They're right. But they've miscalculated what happens when they succeed."
The Predator Becomes the Prey
Einstein didn't wait for the sun to go down. He donned a tactical suit made of liquid-kevlar weave, reinforced with the same Jacob Clan bracers he had used to crush Kael.
"Rhea, take six members of the Vanguard. Secure the perimeter of the mill. I am going in alone. I want the Butcher alive for questioning. The rest... do not matter."
"Sir, the Butcher is an 8th-level master of the 'Rending Claw' style," Rhea cautioned. "It is high-risk."
Einstein didn't respond. He simply walked toward the elevator. Risk was a concept for people who still had something to fear. With $100 million and 12th-level Ascendant power, Einstein wasn't a player in their game anymore—he was the one breaking the board.
The Butcher's Den
The textile mill smelled of rot and stagnant water. Inside, dozens of men in grey tracksuits were sharpening blades and checking firearms. In the center of the room, a massive man with arms as thick as tree trunks sat on a throne of wooden crates. This was the Butcher.
"Where is Kael?" the Butcher roared. "He was supposed to bring the boy's head!"
"Kael is licking his wounds," a voice echoed from the rafters.
The men scrambled to their feet, weapons raised. Einstein dropped from the ceiling, landing in a perfect crouch. The concrete beneath his boots spider-webbed from the impact of his internal force.
"You must be Einstein Jacob," the Butcher sneered, standing up and flexing his claws—metal extensions fitted over his fingers. "I've heard you're fast. But speed doesn't matter when I tear the skin from your bones."
"You talk too much," Einstein said.
The Butcher lunged, his metal claws whistling through the air. Einstein moved like smoke, his 'Cloud Step' making him appear to be in three places at once. He didn't use a weapon. He used the 'Heaven-Shaking Palm,' a 12th-level strike that sent a wave of compressed air through the room.
The shockwave threw the Butcher's henchmen against the walls, knocking them unconscious instantly. The Butcher, barely bracing himself, struck back with a savage downward swipe.
Einstein caught the man's wrists. The metal claws scraped against his Jacob bracers, sparks flying in the dim light.
"8th level?" Einstein whispered, his face inches from the Butcher's. "Is this the best the Council can send to collect a $100 billion inheritance?"
Einstein twisted. The sound of snapping bone was followed by a guttural scream. He followed up with a lightning-fast strike to the Butcher's kneecaps, bringing the giant to his floors.
The Interrogation
Einstein stood over the broken Butcher, his shadow stretching across the floor. Rhea and her team emerged from the darkness, their suppressed rifles trained on the exits.
"Who told the Council about my account movement?" Einstein demanded, his foot pressing down on the Butcher's shattered hand.
"It... it was an insider!" the Butcher wheezed. "Someone in your mother's circle! They've been tracking the funds since the first ten million!"
Einstein's heart chilled. A traitor. Someone close to the source of his wealth.
"Where is the Council's main vault?"
"I don't know! I swear! Kael is the only one who knows the coordinates for the High Lord!"
Einstein looked at Rhea. "Take him to the basement of the villa. Let him talk to your interrogation specialist. I want names."
The Return
When Einstein returned to the villa, the adrenaline was fading, replaced by a cold clarity. He found Felicity in the library, staring at the fireplace. She looked up as he entered, her eyes immediately finding the blood on his knuckles.
"You went after them, didn't you?" she asked.
"I ended the immediate threat," Einstein said, walking to the bar to pour a glass of water. "But the war is just beginning, Felicity. There's a traitor in my mother's network. The money... it's a beacon."
Felicity stood up and walked toward him. She didn't stop until she was inches away. She reached out, her fingers tentatively touching the bruise on his jaw.
"For five years, I thought you were nothing," she whispered. "I thought I was the one carrying the world on my shoulders. But you were the one carrying me. Why didn't you tell me? Why let me treat you like a dog?"
"Because the moment you knew," Einstein said, his voice raw, "your life as you knew it would end. You wouldn't be a CEO anymore. You'd be a target. Just like you were today."
Felicity didn't pull away. "I'd rather be a target by your side than a queen in a lie."
Einstein looked at her, and for the first time since he received the first five million, he felt a flicker of the man he used to be—the man who loved his wife despite everything. But the moment was broken by a notification on his phone.
New Message: Unknown Sender "The King of the North's son has grown teeth. But the $100 billion isn't for you. It's for the return of the True Heir. Watch your back, Einstein. The Bradley family was just the beginning. The high-society gala on Saturday? That's where we finish this."
Einstein gripped the phone until the casing groaned. The gala. The biggest event of the year, where every billionaire and master in the city would be present.
"Felicity," Einstein said, his eyes turning back to the golden hue of the War God. "Prepare your best dress. We're going to a party."