When the Devil Goes to War
The first gunshot changed everything.
Peace shattered.
Screams echoed.
And the mansion—
Turned into a battlefield.
Elara sat up instantly.
Her heart pounding violently.
"What's happening…?"
Another shot rang out.
Closer this time.
Fear gripped her chest.
Her hand moved protectively to her stomach.
The baby…
Before panic could take over—
The door burst open.
Damian.
His presence filled the room instantly.
Dark.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
"Elara."
His voice was firm.
Grounding.
She looked at him, fear clear in her eyes.
"Stay behind me."
No hesitation.
No room for argument.
Lucas appeared behind him.
"Victor's men," he said quickly.
"Outer guards are down."
Damian's expression didn't change.
But his eyes—
They turned colder.
"Get her to the safe room."
Lucas nodded instantly.
"Elara, come."
But she didn't move.
Her eyes locked on Damian.
"You're coming too."
Not a request.
A demand.
For a second—
Silence.
Then—
Damian stepped closer.
His hand cupped her face gently.
"I'll always come back to you."
A pause.
"But right now—"
His voice dropped.
"I need to end this."
Elara's breath caught.
Because she saw it.
Not the man she loved.
But the Devil he becomes when war begins.
Lucas pulled her back gently.
"We don't have time."
This time—
She moved.
Reluctantly.
Looking back one last time.
Damian was already gone.
Outside—
Gunfire exploded across the compound.
Men dropping.
Shouting.
Running.
Victor's soldiers moved like shadows.
Fast.
Coordinated.
But they made one mistake.
They came into Damian's territory.
And then—
He appeared.
Walking through the chaos like it belonged to him.
No fear.
No hesitation.
Only death in his eyes.
The Devil had arrived.
The first man rushed him.
Big mistake.
A single move—
And the man hit the ground.
The second raised his gun—
Too slow.
Damian fired.
Once.
Twice.
Precise.
Unforgiving.
Bodies dropped around him.
But he didn't stop.
He never stopped.
"Find their leader," he ordered coldly.
Lucas's voice echoed through the comms.
"Already on it."
Inside the safe room—
Elara paced.
Restless.
Every gunshot outside making her flinch.
Her hands trembled slightly.
"Relax," Lucas said calmly.
"I can't," she whispered.
A pause.
"He's out there."
Lucas looked at her.
Then said something unexpected.
"They should be afraid of him."
Back outside—
The battle was ending.
Fast.
Because Damian wasn't just fighting.
He was hunting.
And one by one—
Victor's men fell.
A final man tried to run.
Desperate.
Damian caught him.
Dragged him back.
"Who sent you?"
The man hesitated.
Fear written all over his face.
"…Victor…"
That was all he needed.
Damian's grip tightened.
His expression darkened completely.
"Tell him something."
A pause.
His voice dropped to something colder than death.
"If he comes for my family again…"
Another pause.
"I won't stop at his men."
The man nodded frantically.
Terrified.
Damian released him.
Letting him run.
Because fear…
Was a message too.
Minutes later—
Silence returned.
But this time—
It wasn't peaceful.
It was earned.
The safe room door opened.
Elara rushed out instantly.
Her eyes searching.
Until—
She saw him.
Standing there.
Unshaken.
Untouched.
Alive.
She ran to him.
Without thinking.
And crashed into his arms.
Holding him tightly.
Damian froze for a second.
Then held her back.
Just as tightly.
"I told you…" he murmured softly.
"I'll always come back."
Elara closed her eyes.
Relief flooding through her completely.
But behind him—
The bodies.
The blood.
The destruction.
A reminder.
This war wasn't over.
Not even close.
Because next time—
Victor wouldn't send men.
He would come himself.