The Queen Who Fights Back (by Lily Hastings) novel Chapter 127

Chapter 127

What really made Nova agree to go wasn’t just the money she couldn’t turn down.

Honestly, what interested her even more was how Damien got his hands on a party invite–and what kind of relationship he had with the Greslin family.

After all, the Greslin family kept their parties strictly private–no outsiders ever got in.

“We leave now,” Aiden said as he stepped back, nodding his head slightly and revealing his personal helicopter parked out on the open field.

This was a spur–of–the–moment trip, and Nova didn’t tell a soul about it.

The Greslin family–a secretive powerhouse, shrouded in mystery and overflowing with unimaginable wealth and military stockpiles.

In the world of arms dealing, their reach was legendary, ranking second only to Damien Thorn, who cornered eighty percent of all global arms transactions.

People even hailed them as the legendary “arms dynasty.”

*****

The Greslin family was based on an island off the coast of North Seamus.

Nova started her journey at eight o’clock in the evening.

The helicopter stayed in the air for a total of twenty–two hours, and when they finally touched down, it was six in the evening the following day.

Factoring in the time difference between North Seamus and Zoria–it was actually just nine in the morning at the Greslin family’s island, with the sun only barely peeking over the horizon.

Nova managed to get some sleep on the helicopter.

She was always a light sleeper, so the moment the helicopter landed, she snapped awake.

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Damien’s profile–his looks were almost divine, like some god sculpted out of marble.

“Morning, handsome,” Nova teased.

When she caught sight of Damien, she froze for half a second before a sly grin curled at the corners of her mouth.

“Morning,” he replied.

His voice was deep and rich, like a masterpiece carefully nurtured by the gods.

It was so magnetic it took everything in Nova not to just jump him right then and there.

Nova straightened up, tixing Damien with a pointed look. She wasn’t one for subtlety–when something was on her mind, she’d just ask.

“Tell me, Mr. Mysterious–how did you get your hands on an invitation to the Greslin Gala?”

Nova had just woken up, her sleek, midnight–brown hair a little tousled but radiating that effortless beauty, tumbling softly over her shoulders.

Her shirt slipped carelessly off one shoulder, and she was completely oblivious to it.

Watching her look so tempting in her early–morning mess, Damien felt that familiar tightness squeeze his chest all over again.

He had to wrestle with the urge to pin her down and kiss her senseless–he ripped his gaze away, afraid he’d lose control right then.

He gave her a cool, chiseled look. “I’m part of the Greslin family.”

So he’d got a standing invite to every Greslin Gala–they didn’t need to send him an invitation.

Oh, and here’s the kicker-

Damien Thorn, the boss of the Shadow Sanctum and hands–down the deadliest assassin on the planet, yep- he really did hail from the legendary Greslin family.

In this secretive clan—the Greslin family–there was a savage, unwritten rule: every Greslin kid, once they hit the age of five, got dumped straight into the wild world of underground crime.

Nobody cared whether they made it out alive or not; they had to carve their own path, come hell or high

water.

Only after they made it to twenty would the family bother calling them back in.

With no safety net and forced to tough it out where failure meant death, only then could a Greslin heir reach real power.

Honestly, the way the Greslins toughen up their next generation is insane.

Damien was only five when the Greslin family threw him into the underground slave pits, forced to survive through his childhood under the fists and boots of the wealthy elite.

Now, in his early twenties, he’d finally been summoned back by his family.

Messy brown bangs framed Damien’s forehead, sharpening his already defined jawline and that impossibly straight nose, making his handsome features downright irresistible.

The second Nova woke up, Damien swung his lean, perfect body to the side and hopped right out of the

helicopter in one smooth move.

Damien–tall and striking–turned with a graceful flourish, his movements like a duke leaning in to kiss a queen’s hand, extending his long, refined fingers toward Nova, who stood poised at the top of the helicopter

steps.

“Come down,” he said.

His rich voice turned deeper, laced with authority.

For a split second, Nova’s ever–watchful instincts–those reflexes she’d honed for years, reasons long forgotten -even she let down her guard, and didn’t quite know why.

Guided by that sudden trust, she strode right out the helicopter door.

In that moment, her faith in him was absolute.

Without warning, Damien swept Nova into his long, protective embrace, holding her snug against his chest.

Nova glanced up, and just caught Damien looking all stoic–but beneath that cool exterior, his ears were unexpectedly flushed red.

Spotting that, Nova couldn’t resist. Mischief flashed in her eyes as she rose up on tiptoe and teasingly blew a gentle breath right against his earlobe.

Damien, already solid as stone, instantly went taut all over again.

“Ahem…”

Just then, Aiden walked up and caught the whole thing. He couldn’t help but cough, way too loud and totally ruining the mood.

From his angle, it looked like Nova could tease Damien all she wanted, and the guy wouldn’t even twitch.

That made Aiden remember what the doc had said about him.

No doubt about it now–his boss really had some serious performance issues.

‘Boss… Aiden sighed to himself, head full of worry.

‘Boss… you’re really hopeless…‘

Even so, Aiden kept all that to himself and simply gave Damien and Nova a respectful nod.

“Boss, Ms. Blake.

“Your formal wear is ready–it’s waiting for you at the island’s only boutique.

“Would you like me to lead the way?”

Nova brushed him off with her usual bluntness.

“No need. We’ll just wander around by ourselves.”

Then, with a mischievous tug on Damien’s collar, she pulled him along, leading the way onto the island.

The Greslin family may be a legendary secretive clan, but they’re not the only ones living on this island- there are plenty of other people here, too.

The island itself is pretty sizable, and the whole place is styled after those grand Western medieval dynasties.

Up on the hillside, an enormous medieval castle stands tall, wrapped in towering walls that make it look frozen in time.

The walls are so high and thick that anyone living outside can’t even get a peek at what’s going on inside the castle.

Honestly, it’s like a tiny kingdom that doesn’t exist in any history book.

No doubt about it–the tallest, most impressive medieval castle dominating the island was the Greslin family’s fortress.

As for Nova and Damien, they were strolling through the part of the island where ordinary folks made their homes, flourishing in safety under the Greslin family’s watchful protection.

Their neighborhoods had grown into a bustling little settlement.

The streets were alive with seafood markets, fabric vendors, and clothing shops–everything the residents could need, making this hidden village feel like its own self–sustaining utopia.

Nova kept her small hand wrapped snugly around Damien’s much larger one as they wandered together through the bustling little village, taking in the sights and letting themselves get lost among the crowds.

Before long, they ended up right in front of the only boutique on the whole island–the one Aiden had told them about.

But before they could even step inside, a mocking voice cut through the air, stopping them in their tracks.

“Well, look who it is–with that damned brown hair. You gotta be that bastard kid, Damien Thorn, aren’t you?”

“You had that punchable face even when you were a brat, and now you’ve grown up just making people wanna knock your teeth out. Hell, you make me wanna wring your neck!”

His given name in the Greslin family was Sius Greslin.

He only started calling himself Damien Thorn later, adopting his mother’s surname, Thorn, as a tribute.

Damien’s mother was a Zoriaien.

Nova’s face twisted in a frown as that shrill, nasal voice grated on her ears.

She shot a glance to the side.

Not far off, there was a group of foreign teens around their age, apparently here for the boutique as well.

The guy who’d just mouthed off in that obnoxious tone–was a foreign kid with a wild mop of dark hair, short and scrawny, and sporting a face so messed up it looked like he’d lost a brawl with a dump truck.

His nose wasn’t just low–it was almost caved in.

And yet, despite having absolutely zero resemblance to Damien, this ugly little bastard was actually his half-

brother-

Cruz Greslin.

There were six people standing with Cruz–three guys with the same copper hair as him.

The other three were women; they didn’t seem to be Greslin family, so it looked like they were just the dates those dark–haired boys brought to the party.

As Damien’s half–brother, Cruz was a year older than him.

Like every Greslin kid, Cruz got dumped into the criminal underworld at just five years old, left to sink or swim with no one watching his back.

Now, in their early twenties, he and the handful of Greslin heirs who’d managed to stay alive were all called home together by the family.

They hadn’t laid eyes on each other in over a decade, each building their own legend, alone in that ruthless underground world.

Every single member of the Greslin family was born with copper hair–it was their calling card, easy as anything to recognize.

Damien stood out as the lone outlier among them, his hair brown and all the more striking for it.

It was exactly because Damien stood out that, back when Cruz was just a little kid, he’d always round up a pack of Greslin cousins–a dozen or more–and gang up on Damien just to make his life hell.

Why? Because Damien’s mom was Zoriaien, and his hair looked exactly like those ‘second–rate Zoriaiens’- not the signature copper every Greslin boasted, but brown instead.

“Well, look who had the balls to come crawling back–Sius Greslin!” Cruz spat, his tone thick with scorn.

Before Cruz even finished talking, his onion–nosed buddy piped up right away, piling on the mockery.

“Everyone, get a load of that freakish brown hair! We used to gang up on him as kids for being a loser, and the fact he survived the underworld? Total freak accident!

“Surviving was one thing, but now he actually dares to show up at the Greslin Gala? Dude, aren’t you scared we might take you out right at the party? Hahaha!”

The guy with the onion–sized nose was clearly gloating, knowing all about the dangerous secrets behind the Greslin Gala, and he just kept cackling.

The moment he finished, Cruz led the pack–each of them doubled over, roaring with laughter as if Damien was the punchline of some cruel joke.

It was no secret–Cruz and those two other copper–haired guys had all been thrown into the criminal underworld by the Greslin family when they were barely out of diapers, just like Damien.

But after surviving over a decade in that cutthroat world, they’d carved out their own powerful crews and made a name for themselves.

Now they strutted around, throwing their weight and reputation wherever they pleased.

As for Damien–the kid they’d bullied nonstop when they were younger? He was nothing to them, not even worth a passing glance. Now that they’d grown up, they were still at it, itching to put him in his place all over again.

Nova’s eyes turned icy the moment she heard them insult Damien, her expression hardening as a chill settled over her features.

Obviously, Cruz and his gang just assumed Damien had scraped by in the underworld, barely surviving and never even making a name for himself.

‘He was our punching bag growing up–a total loser. No way someone like that could actually pull off anything big in the criminal underworld, right?‘

The guy with the giant onion nose put on this over–the–top, king’s–announcement routine, waving both hands at Cruz like he was royalty. Cruz just puffed out his chest, face oozing pride.

He turned to Nova and Damien, smirking. “Allow me to properly present Cruz Greslin!

“Cruz started hustling in the international underworld at five, and by fifteen he’d already founded the Eduardo Underground Alliance. He blew up fast–cutting deals with mercenary groups in Alboure and assassin squads in Erebos.

“Honestly, you two probably don’t even get half of what goes down in the global underground scene, so let me dumb it down for you.

“Listen close, you pair of dimwits-

“Cruz’s Eduardo Underground Alliance is about to strike a deal with Bloodblade–the number one mercenary crew–and the top assassin syndicate, Shadow Sanctum! Pretty badass, huh? Oh, look at you two, totally stunned! Didn’t expect that, did you? Dumb and dumber!”