The sun had barely crested over Orange County, casting long golden rays across the plaza, where a rare stillness lingered.
Jayden stood in front of the plaza gates, coffee in one hand, a fresh dressing on the graze across his ribs from the night before.
Leo sat beside him on a concrete barrier, quietly reassembling a modified pistol.
It was supposed to be a calm day.
The kind that follows after chaos.
But there was no calm today.
The first warning came as a child screamed.
Then another.
People began running. Shopkeepers slammed down their shutters. Doors were locked. Alarms blared. The streets emptied like blood fleeing a wound.
And then they came.
The roar of engines drowned out the morning birds. From the far end of the avenue, a convoy of blacked-out SUVs, armored vans, and bikes stormed the block.
They came in waves thirty... fifty... a hundred until the entire street was packed wall to wall with muscle, metal, and malice.
Three hundred armed men.
All wearing the Park family's insignia: the crimson fang.
Jayden didn't move.
Leo stood slowly. "They're not here to negotiate."
"No," Jayden said. He crushed the empty coffee cup in his hand.
"They're here to send a message."
The lead SUV screeched to a halt. A tall, serpentine man in a pinstripe suit stepped out Park Minho, the enforcer cousin, dead-eyed and draped in gold chains.
He raised a megaphone.
"Jayden Colman! The Park Family has declared blood. Step forward, or we burn your empire to ash!"
Jayden walked forward.
"You brought 300 dogs to bark at a lion. Brave."
Park Minho's eyes narrowed. He lowered the megaphone and signaled.
Hell opened.
Gunfire erupted. The plaza's front was torn apart by automatic rifles. Bullets shattered glass, tore through walls, left the air thick with dust and terror.
Jayden dove behind a reinforced pillar as Leo rolled into cover beside him, returning fire with crisp bursts.
"East wing's getting overrun!" Leo shouted.
"Push them back. Don't let them through the lobby. I'll hold center."
Jayden loaded a fresh magazine into his sidearm and sprinted low across the lot, using shattered planters and kiosks as cover.
One bullet caught him across the shoulder flesh wound, but it spun him to the ground.
He grunted, pushed off the concrete, and slammed a knife into the ankle of a charging brute. The man fell, screaming.
Jayden rose, elbowed another across the face, and used the fallen body as a shield while firing into the advancing crowd.
Blood. Smoke. Screams.
Leo was a demon on the east side moving with ghostlike precision, dropping men in twos and threes.
A bullet grazed his temple, sending a splash of blood down his cheek.
"Could use a little help here!" Leo growled.
"Hold tight. Watch the flanks."
A team of ten surrounded Jayden near the fountain. They moved in coordinated formation, military-grade gear.
Jayden waited.
One threw a grenade.
He kicked it back.
BOOM.
Three bodies hit the ground.
Jayden launched forward. He fought not like a man, but like something ancient, unchained. A fist shattered a helmet. A knee broke a jaw. A pistol fired point-blank into a throat.
Still, they kept coming.
Jayden was bleeding from a torn bicep. Leo's side was scorched from a flashbang.
Then came the flamethrower.
A tank lugging beast stepped forward, igniting the nozzle and spraying fire across the marble floor.
"Split!" Jayden yelled.
They dove in opposite directions as flames roared over their cover. The heat blistered their skin. Jayden used his last bullet to shoot the fuel tank strapped to the flamethrower's back.
The explosion painted the sky orange.
The tide began to turn.
By noon, the streets were littered with the groaning, the dead, and the scattered.
Jayden stood in the middle of it all, blood-soaked and gasping.
Leo limped to his side. "We held. Just barely."
Sirens wailed in the far distance far too late.
Drones overhead caught everything.
The world would see this.
But the Park family would feel it.
This plaza didn't fall.
Jayden didn't break.
And now, vengeance would no longer be whispered in shadows.
It would be carved into blood and stone.
White. Everything was white.
The sterile scent of antiseptic clawed at Jayden's throat before the pain registered.
He groaned, barely able to lift his arm. His entire body felt like it had been hit by a freight train... then dragged through war.
Beeping machines hummed in the silence. Cold IVs snaked into his veins. Bandages wrapped around his torso like a second skin. Breathing hurt.
The ceiling stared back at him until a voice shattered the void.
"Jayden…?"
It was small. Fragile.
He turned his head slowly, vision swimming.
There she was.
Amelia.
Face puffy with tears, hair disheveled, eyes locked onto his like the world might collapse if he blinked again.
She clutched a stuffed animal in her arms so tightly it looked crushed.
"I thought you died," she whispered, her voice breaking into shards. "You... you didn't come back. Mommy said you were asleep but I knew I knew you were gone and they lied and"
"Hey…" Jayden rasped, throat dry. "I'm not going anywhere."
She lunged, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist. He hissed in pain but didn't stop her. He let her cry.
Let her sob into his chest like she was trying to glue him back together with her tears.
"I can't lose you too," she whispered. "You're my dad now. You promised you'd be there . You can't die… not like Daddy did…"
Jayden closed his eyes.
One hand shaking and half numb reached out and held the back of her head.
"I'll be there," he said, voice barely audible. "Even if I have to crawl through hell again."
A chair creaked.
Leo sat nearby, head wrapped in bandages, one eye bruised shut. His arm was in a sling, shirt blood-streaked beneath his open hospital gown. Despite everything, he was awake and smirking.
"You look like shit, Ghost."
Jayden coughed a painful laugh.
"Mirror, Leo. Try one."
Then, silence. Heavy.
Jayden turned his head again.
And saw her.
Sienna.
Standing near the door, arms crossed, but barely holding it together. Her blouse was wrinkled, her lipstick gone, her heels discarded. She looked like she'd sprinted through hell to be there… and she had.
Their eyes locked.
"I told you," she said, voice trembling, "that you were dangerous."
Jayden didn't answer. He just stared.
"You said you'd protect her. That you'd be careful. And now look at you."
She stepped forward, then stopped.
Her voice cracked. "Do you have any idea what I felt seeing her cry like that? Watching her scream your name in the ER while they tried to resuscitate you? Do you even understand what that does to a motherand to a woman?"
Jayden whispered, "I'm sorry."
It wasn't loud. It wasn't proud.
But it was real.
Sienna blinked. Her lips parted like she wanted to yell again. But instead, she sat on the edge of the bed, next to Leo.
Her hand reached for Jayden's… and gripped it tightly.
"You scared the hell out of us," she said softly.
Jayden's breath hitched.
"I didn't know you'd care this much."
"I didn't know I could," she replied.
Amelia still held on, head pressed to his chest. Her tiny sobs had quieted, replaced by the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Leo leaned back in his chair, groaning. "So… what now?"
Jayden stared at the ceiling.
"They sent 300 men," he whispered. "The Park family turned the streets into a war zone."
"And?" Leo asked, his voice hoarse.
Jayden's eyes narrowed.
"We make them regret not sending 301."
A knock sounded on the hospital door. A nurse peeked in.
"There's media outside. Dozens of reporters. Police want statements. And… the mayor's office is asking if you're available for a private call."
Jayden closed his eyes. The war had just begun.
But in that hospital room, with Amelia still hugging him and Sienna clutching his hand like her life depended on it… for a moment, he was just a man.
A broken, bandaged, bleeding man.
But not alone.
Not anymore.