The King Of War Returns (Jaden Rift) novel Chapter 109

109 /145

Outside the towering glass headquarters of the Gravesend Group, Jaden came to a halt near the entrance, the city lights reflecting off the mirrored facade.

"This is your stop," Jaden said flatly, releasing his grip from the girl's arm. His expression was unreadable as always, sharp eyes scanning the lavish surroundings. "I’ll leave you here."

But the young woman’s hand shot out, gripping his wrist firmly. "No. Please—come with me."

Jaden raised an eyebrow at her sudden boldness.

"You saved my life back there," she continued, her voice steady now, confidence creeping back into her posture. "And I’m not letting a man like you walk away without proper thanks. My father… he’ll want to see you himself."

Jaden studied her carefully—the shift in demeanor, the way her eyes carried calculation beneath gratitude.

"And who exactly is your father?" he asked.

She straightened her dress, brushing off the dirt and leaves. "Anthony Scarface. Second-largest shareholder of the Gravesend Group."

Jaden's expression hardened with curiosity. "Scarface?" He paused. "I only know the Gravesend Group’s first shareholder… Williams Gravesend."

Her lips curled into a faint smile. "You’ll know more soon enough," she replied, tugging him along toward the building’s private entrance. "Oh—and you can call me Fate."

Inside the Gravesend Executive Offices…

Boom!

A clenched fist slammed onto the expensive mahogany desk, rattling files and glass ornaments.

"My daughter’s missing," Anthony Scarface roared, his face dark with rage, scars across his cheek twitching as his jaw tightened. "And you’re telling me your so-called security team can’t find her?!"

A line of trembling security personnel stood frozen near the door, eyes cast downward.

Williams Gravesend, lounging comfortably in the leather seat opposite, chuckled under his breath. His suit was crisp, his silver cufflinks gleaming in the office light as if mocking the chaos.

"Now, now, Anthony… getting worked up won’t bring your daughter home any faster," Williams said smoothly, a glint of sadistic amusement in his eyes. "Besides… Fate's a lucky girl. I’m sure she’s somewhere… safe."

Anthony’s eyes narrowed, sharp as blades. His suspicion flared instantly. "You." His voice dropped to a deadly growl. "Did you do this?"

Williams spread his hands innocently, lips twisting into a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. "Anthony… how could you accuse me? I’m a law-abiding man. I don’t dirty my hands with things like… kidnappings."

Anthony’s patience snapped. He leaned forward across the desk, voice ice-cold. "Williams Gravesend… I only have one daughter. You lay a finger on her, I’ll bury you myself. Whatever your twisted little games are—cut the theatrics and tell me what you want."

Williams's smile widened, a shark smelling blood.

"You’re finally speaking my language," Williams said casually. He snapped his fingers, and a man stepped forward—broad-shouldered, dressed in flowing, traditional martial arts robes, his face carved from stone, eyes burning with quiet arrogance.

"This," Williams announced with pride, "is Vincent. A master martial artist with a reputation that echoes beyond borders. Records upon records—even before thirty."