The Island was peaceful beneath the heavy afternoon sunlight.

A gentle breeze moved through the trees.

The sounds of distant waves blended with the songs of birds hidden among the forest canopy.

After an eventful morning filled with fishing, laughter, and endless teasing, the island had finally fallen into a calm silence.

Most of the family members were resting after lunch.

Hope and Asher had fallen asleep almost instantly after exhausting themselves at the beach.

Daniel was enjoying a quiet nap.

Elena and Flora sat together on a shaded veranda, talking softly.

Even Chloe had retreated indoors with Alice and Kate to escape the strongest heat of the day.

But Miles had no intention of resting.

Not today.

Not while Graveyard operatives were dead.

Not while the enemy remained hidden and had dared to threaten Ghost.

Miles walked across the newly developed settlement.

Beside him walked Darius Emberfall.

The Phoenix Clan General carried himself with calm confidence.

The two moved past residential quarters and crossed a stone pathway before arriving at one of the largest structures on the island.

Unlike the surrounding buildings that blended naturally into the environment, this one had a more professional appearance.

The entrance doors slid open.

Darius spoke while walking.

"Leader, we have analyzed the incidents very closely."

"While gathering evidence from all locations is taking time, we have already obtained useful clues from Somalia."

Miles looked at him.

"What do you have?"

The doors opened fully.

A large war room revealed itself.

Several giant digital displays covered the walls.

Satellite imagery.

Maps.

Communication feeds.

Investigation reports.

Dozens of selected Sterling Security personnel were already working inside.

Unlike field agents, these specialists handled intelligence, communications, cyber operations, logistics, and analysis.

The moment Miles entered, every person stood up.

"Good afternoon, Boss."

Miles nodded.

"Take your seats everyone."

"You can resume your work."

The agents immediately returned to their stations.

Miles walked toward the central screen.

Multiple images appeared.

Destroyed camps.

Missile impact zones.

Satellite photographs.

Investigation timelines.

Darius activated another display.

"Graveyard has been unusually quiet."

"Maybe they are concerned their investigation could be compromised."

"Commander Ray was recently spotted in India."

Miles narrowed his eyes.

"Personally investigating?"

Darius nodded.

"It appears so."

"And most likely without informing the main base."

Miles stared at one of the photographs.

Ray looked tired.

Much older than usual.

The losses had clearly affected him.

"What about Somalia?"

Darius switched the display.

Several pictures appeared.

Run down districts.

Bars.

Criminal gathering spots.

Known gang territories.

"Marina and her group are handling Somalia."

A small smile appeared on Darius’s face.

"They blended into the underworld surprisingly fast."

Miles chuckled slightly.

"That doesn’t surprise me."

Darius nodded.

"Apparently a local gang began celebrating recently."

"Luxury cars."

"Expensive parties."

"Money everywhere."

"Far beyond their normal capabilities."

Miles crossed his arms.

"Looks like they accomplished something significant."

"Exactly."

Darius enlarged another image.

"Marina targeted several jealous individuals in nearby bars."

"People tend to talk when someone suddenly becomes rich."

"Especially criminals."

Miles smirked.

"Human nature."

Darius nodded.

"According to Marina’s findings, the gang received a commission from a foreigner."

"He supplied them with heavy weapons."

"And an absurd amount of money."

The room became quieter.

Several analysts looked toward the conversation.

Darius continued.

"Based on Graveyard’s operational reports, the gang attacked operatives who were securing sensitive information related to political corruption."

"They also massacred multiple rival gangs that same night."

Miles looked at the screen.

"So they were showing off."

"They wanted everyone to know they suddenly had powerful support."

"Exactly."

Darius folded his arms.

"We believe this is the weakest link in the chain."

"The perfect loose end."

"Marina’s team has already prepared a silent ambush."

"In less than twenty four hours, we expect names."

His voice became colder.

"Because we know many ways to make people speak."

Several agents exchanged glances.

Even after arriving on the island, the Clan warriors continued to remind everyone why they had once been feared across entire kingdoms.

Miles nodded.

"Good."

"What about the missile attacks?"

Darius’s expression darkened.

"The governments are actively suppressing information."

Miles immediately tightened his fist.

The metal table creaked slightly.

"So they are turning a blind eye."

"They hired Graveyard."

"Graveyard protected their interests for decades."

"And now this."

His voice became colder.

"They forgot who stood in the shadows for them."

Darius spoke carefully.

"There is another reason."

Miles looked toward him.

"Ren’s team investigated both missile incidents inside Haven."

"The missiles were launched from a military submarine."

Several analysts looked up.

One even stopped typing.

Miles stared at him.

"A submarine?"

Darius nodded.

"A submarine that the military temporarily lost control of."

Silence filled the room.

Darius continued.

"After the recent terrorist incidents, the government cannot afford another public scandal."

"The intelligence agencies are definitely investigating."

"But the public narrative remains controlled."

His voice lowered.

"As always, nobody remembers Graveyard."

Miles slowly looked away.

His jaw clenched.

"Someone infiltrated a secured military submarine."

"How is that even possible?"

No one answered.

"What is happening to this country’s defenses?"

"If military assets can be compromised like this..."

"Who exactly is protecting the country?"

The room remained silent.

Miles shook his head.

"All they care about are headlines."

"Their image."

"The elections."

Darius gave a small nod.

"That is likely part of it."

Miles cursed quietly.

"Damn."

For several moments nobody spoke.

The giant screens continued displaying maps and reports.

Dozens of lives lost.

Years of work destroyed.

Brothers and sisters gone.

Darius finally stepped closer.

His voice became firm.

"Don’t worry, Leader."

"Your family is our family."

The words carried the weight of ancient vows.

Centuries of honor.

"We can go to war for our family."

His eyes became sharp.

"And whoever is responsible..."

"They are not far from our reach."

Miles stared at the screen showing the destroyed Somali operation.

The image reflected in his eyes.

The room suddenly felt colder.

Much colder.

Miles looked at the map.

Then at the casualty reports.

Then at the names of the fallen operatives.

His voice came out low.

Dangerously low.

"Let’s find that bastard."

"And when we do..."

His eyes turned murderous.

"We end this."

The entire room fell silent.

Because everyone understood.

The hunt had officially begun.

London

Art Exhibition

Soft classical music echoed through the grand exhibition hall.

Crystal chandeliers illuminated the polished marble floors, while paintings worth fortunes hung proudly along the walls.

Collectors, investors, art critics, and wealthy enthusiasts filled the venue.

Many had traveled across countries just to attend tonight’s final auction.

At the center stage stood the host.

His smile was professional, but there was excitement in his eyes.

He adjusted his microphone and looked toward the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen."

"The final art piece of today is very special."

The conversations slowly died down.

Everyone turned their attention toward the stage.

A large black cloth was removed.

The painting underneath was revealed.

Gasps immediately spread across the hall.

Several art collectors straightened in their seats.

Others leaned forward.

The painting carried a strange beauty.

Elegant.

Dark.

Emotional.

It felt unfinished.

Yet somehow that incompleteness made it even more captivating.

The host continued.

"Let me tell you this."

"This is the final piece ever painted by the famous Mr. Elias Flinch before his mysterious disappearance."

A wave of whispers spread throughout the audience.

The name alone carried enormous value.

Elias Flinch.

A genius.

A visionary.

A man whose paintings sold for millions.

The host gestured toward the artwork.

"This piece has been presented by his surviving relatives."

"It is believed to be the very last work he touched."

More whispers followed.

Some guests were already calculating how much they would bid.

Others had already decided they wanted it regardless of the price.

For collectors, ownership of the final work from a legendary artist was priceless.

Far away from the stage, hidden within a dimly lit corner of the hall, sat a woman.

She looked to be in her late forties.

Elegant.

Composed.

Dangerous.

A glass of red wine rested in her hand.

Her sharp eyes remained fixed on the painting.

Not with admiration.

Not with excitement.

But with amusement.

Standing beside her was an elderly man dressed in a flawless black suit.

Behind them, several security personnel quietly monitored the surroundings.

The woman took another sip of wine.

"Sebas."

The old servant immediately bowed his head.

"Yes, Mrs. Connor."

Connor continued observing the painting.

"What do you think happened to him?"

Sebas glanced toward the artwork.

His expression remained unchanged.

"I assume he is already dead."

Connor smiled faintly.

"Why do you think so?"

Sebas folded his hands respectfully.

"There has been a sudden reduction in missing women cases."

"No more decorated bodies are being discovered."

"The pattern simply stopped."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"And that painting appears incomplete."

Connor looked at him.

Sebas continued.

"I find it difficult to believe that a perfectionist like Elias Flinch would willingly leave a piece unfinished."

"The curator cannot leave it incomplete."

"And I see missing touches."

Connor chuckled softly.

The wine swirled gently inside her glass.

"You are clever, Sebas."

The old servant bowed slightly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Connor."

Connor stared at the painting one last time.

Then she slowly stood.

The nearby guards immediately straightened.

"I think it is time we pay a young man a visit."

Sebas looked up.

"Who are you referring to, Mrs. Connor?"

A mysterious smile appeared on her lips.

"It has been years."

"Years since I kept this matter in my heart."

Her eyes became distant.

As though remembering someone.

Or perhaps hunting someone.

"Book tickets to Star Harbor."

Sebas blinked.

"You are traveling personally?"

"Yes."

"You will remain here."

Sebas frowned slightly.

"Alone?"

Connor laughed.

A calm, confident laugh.

"Don’t worry."

"No one in Star Harbor can hurt me."

The confidence in her voice was absolute.

Sebas lowered his head.

"Understood."

Connor adjusted her coat.

Then she began walking toward the exit.

After several steps, she stopped.

Without turning around, she spoke.

"Also."

"Buy that painting."

Sebas nodded.

"As you wish."

Connor’s next words made him pause.

"And burn it to ashes."

A surprise appeared in Sebas’s eyes.

But only briefly.

"As you wish, Mrs. Connor."

Connor resumed walking.

Her heels echoed softly across the marble floor.

The guards followed behind her.

Several nearby guests noticed her departure.

One woman whispered quietly.

"Is that Nora Connor?"

Another guest looked shocked.

"I didn’t know she was interested in art."

The person beside her immediately lowered their voice.

"Shhh."

"Don’t speak so loudly."

"The Connor family is extremely powerful."

"If they decide they want something..."

"They get it."

"No one interrupts."

The woman instantly fell silent.

Meanwhile, Nora Connor walked toward the exit.

Her expression remained calm.

Yet a faint smirk slowly appeared on her face.

Star Harbor.

After all these years.

She was finally coming.

[A/N : If anyone remember the name Nora , do comment , Happy reading.]