Chapter 2 THE FIRST MOVE

The night was thick with fog as Ares Clinton stepped out of his car, the city lights barely piercing the mist that clung to the streets. Ravenport was never silent, but tonight it whispered only to him.

He wasn't here for noise.

He was here to draw first blood.

The nightclub was tucked between a shuttered casino and an abandoned hotel, neutral ground for the city's elite and corrupt. Inside, music pounded like a war drum, and shadows moved like secrets across the floor. But Ares wasn't here to dance.

He was here for Dominic Vance Blackwoods' fixer.

A man who buried bodies and burned truth for a price.

Julian, already waiting at the bar, gave a small nod toward the VIP lounge. "He's here. Two bodyguards. Armed. You sure you don't want to wait?"

"No." Ares adjusted his cuffs, each movement calm, deliberate. "This starts now."

He moved through the crowd like phantom eyes tracking him, but no one dared to stop him. When he reached the velvet curtain of the lounge, the guards stood immediately.

"We're closed for the night," one of them said.

Ares smiled barely. "Tell Dominic Vance that the ghost he buried came back for a drink."

The guard frowned. "What the hell does that"

Before he could finish, Ares stepped forward and grabbed his arm in a swift, brutal twist. The man gasped, collapsing to his knees. The other guard reached for his weapon too slowly.

Julian was already behind him, gun pressed to his spine.

"Try again," Ares said, brushing past them and entering the lounge.

Dominic Vance looked up from his glass, surprised but not frightened.

He was older now. Grey at the temples. But his arrogance hadn't aged a day.

"Well, well," he said with a slow grin. "I'll be damned. Ares Clinton. I thought you were dead."

"Most people like you should pray I was."

Dominic chuckled, but it lacked warmth. "If you came here to make threats, you're ten years too late."

"No," Ares said, taking a seat across from him. "I came to offer a deal."

That got Dominic's attention.

"I want you to betray Harold Blackwoods," Ares said smoothly. "Publicly. Irreversibly."

Dominic scoffed. "You think I'd go against the man who made me? Protect me?"

"I think you're a survivor," Ares replied. "And you know what happens when ships go down with their captains."

He slid a flash drive across the table.

Dominic hesitated before picking it up.

"What's this?"

"Proof of your offshore accounts. The ones Blackwoods doesn't know about. The ones you've been funneling money into since 2017."

Dominic's eyes darkened.

"You've been watching me?"

"I never stopped," Ares said coldly. "You help me take Blackwoods down, and I'll let you disappear. Quietly. You refuse... and I leak everything to the FBI and your enemies."

Dominic's fingers clenched around the flash drive. "You bastard."

"No," Ares said, standing. "I'm your reckoning."

Back at his penthouse, Ares stood alone in the dark.

One piece down.

Many more to go.

But his mind against his will kept drifting back to her.

Elena.

He'd seen it in her eyes today. The doubt. The spark. She was starting to sense that he wasn't who he claimed to be.

That was dangerous.

She wasn't ready to know.

Not yet.

He walked into his study, where the photo still lay on the desk, the one with Harold Blackwoods in the background, toasting to his parents' deaths.

Ares lit a match and held it to the edge.

The fire licked up the photo, curling the faces into ash.

"Your time's running out, Blackwoods," he murmured. "Tick. Tock."

Meanwhile...

Elena sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the photograph she found.

It had to be him.

The boy in the background has the same eyes, same jaw, same scar by the temple. But what was he doing in an old family album?

She pulled out her laptop and searched again.

Clinton Family Scandal.

Clinton Enterprises Collapse.

Mother Murdered. Father Imprisoned.

Surviving Son: Ares Clinton Presumed Dead.

Her chest tightened.

It was him.

And her father had lied. Again.

She looked at her phone. Her finger hovered over the call button. Should she confront him?

No.

Not yet.

She needed to know more about Ares. Why was he back? Why now?

And why, despite everything... he made her heart race.

The next day...

Ares stood in the boardroom of Blackwoods Enterprises, the city stretching out behind him in endless glass and steel.

The meeting had begun, full of men in suits pretending to be kings. Harold Blackwoods sat at the head of the table, smug and unaware of the noose tightening around his empire.

Elena entered late, her presence soft but commanding.

Ares watched her. Studied her.

She didn't meet his gaze.

But he could feel the shift.

She knew something.

"Let's begin," Harold said. "Ares, your insight on the Whitmore deal?"

Ares stepped forward, the weight of a thousand ghosts in every word.

"I propose we change the terms," he said. "Take full control of their overseas operations. Force a merger they can't refuse."

Harold leaned back, intrigued. "Bold."

Ares smiled darkly. "It's time we stopped asking for power and started taking it."

Elena's eyes flicked up.

And for a heartbeat, their gazes locked.

The storm was coming.

Neither of them could outrun it now.

That night, Elena returned to her father's office after hours. She needed answers.

She rummaged through the drawers, searching, heart pounding.

Finally, she found it a sealed file marked Clinton Estate – Closed Case.

She opened it.

And inside... was a report that changed everything.

Her father had testified against Ares's family.

Falsely.

To protect himself.

Behind her, the door creaked open.

She froze.

And a voice, low and lethal, said

"I warned you not to dig into the past."

She turned.

Ares stood in the doorway, eyes unreadable.

But his voice?

That was pure threat.