In the plane, Damian sat beside Racheal in their private suite, a quiet enclosed space with wide leather seats that reclined into a bed, dim ambient lighting, and a large window that stretched across the wall, offering an uninterrupted view of the sky beyond.
Racheal had her headphones on, listening to music as she stared out the window, her reflection faint against the endless stretch of clouds. On the other hand, Damian focused on the tablet in his hands, going through the information her subordinates had gathered on the buyers.
On paper, they were nothing more than a wealthy family with deep political ties, known for dealing in rare artifacts and historical art. But beneath that polished image lay sothing far more unsettling. They were mbers of a cult known as Los Hijos del Angelito Negro, which translated directly to The Children of the Black Angel.
Rumors surrounding them were disturbing.
It was said their mbers wielded supernatural abilities, and the nature of their victims only fueled those claims further. The injuries docunted in the files were not just brutal, they were unnatural. Limbs twisted in impossible ways, bodies torn apart without clear cause, wounds that made no sense under normal circumstances.
After studying the images, Damian had no doubt.
This was not sothing ordinary humans could do to each other.
The patterns were too strange, too deliberate. Even the police, with all their resources, would never be able to track sothing like this. Not when the cri itself defied logic.
"Is this all you have on them?" Damian asked, his tone carrying a hint of disappointnt as he reached the end of the files.
Despite the music blasting loudly enough to leak from her headphones, Racheal heard him clearly. Without hesitation, she reached over and took the tablet from his hands.
"All we know is that they are interested in two things," she began calmly. "Protection of their country’s cultural heritage, protection of the country itself, and control over its political system. From what my subordinates gathered, they are the ones who keep everyone in line, including the xican cartels. Their influence runs from the streets all the way to the president’s office."
"That big?" Damian asked, genuinely stunned.
Racheal nodded without turning away from the window.
"They practically own the country. They run it like gods."
She leaned back into her seat, her gaze returning to the endless sky outside. The reflection on the glass revealed sothing she did not show openly. A brief flicker of fear passed through her eyes.
Damian noticed.
Before he could question it, she spoke again.
"But this deal is a bit shady..."
Buzz.
Damian’s eyes narrowed instantly.
"Fill in."
Racheal exhaled quietly before continuing.
"The patron deity of the Children of the Black Angel is him, the Sin of Greed... your half-brother."
Buzz.
Damian’s frown deepened.
This was the third ti that man’s shadow had crossed into his life. Each encounter brought him closer, tighter, like an invisible noose slowly being drawn.
"Why doesn’t anyone call his na?" Damian asked, his tone steady but edged with curiosity. "Or is it sothing I’m not supposed to know?"
From Hazel to Ruby and even Rin, everyone referred to him the sa way, the Prince of Greed. Not once had anyone spoken his actual na. At first, Damian had not paid attention, but now that he noticed, it was impossible to ignore.
To his surprise, Racheal responded with a bitter laugh and a firm shake of her head.
"Thou shall not call thy na in vain," she said quietly. "The mont you speak a god’s na, it becos aware. Not physically, but consciously. If we call his na, there is more than a chance he will appear here instantly."
Damian felt a chill run down his spine.
All this ti, he had taken pride in his growth, in the abilities he had acquired, but nothing he possessed ca close to what he had just heard.
A god could locate anyone across existence simply because its na was spoken.
The thought alone was absurd.
If he had that kind of power, Adrian would have been found already. There would be no need for searching, no need for waiting. The mont his na was spoken, he would be there.
"That’s why we never bothered teaching you their nas," Racheal added. "It’s safer if you don’t know."
Damian slowly nodded, understanding settling in.
For once, he agreed completely.
Even he did not trust himself with that kind of knowledge. He could already imagine himself shouting a na in anger without thinking, calling sothing he had no business summoning.
And in that mont, it would already be too late.
"Agreed." Damian nodded and leaned back into his seat, his posture relaxing even as his mind sharpened. "But what does he have to do with this situation?"
Racheal froze for a mont, her expression turning thoughtful as she carefully chose her words.
"I believe he suspects you have sothing to do with this trade," she said slowly. "That is why they offered such astronomical sums just to draw us in. The price range from other buyers did not exceed two hundred million, and that was for Joking Boy. Don’t you think it’s strange they are being this generous?"
Damian nodded gradually, his fingers brushing against his chin as he sank into thought. Despite everything she said, there was no fear in his eyes, no tension in his posture. If it ca down to a fight, he was confident he could erase them completely with his abyssal power. No witnesses, no traces, nothing left behind to point back to him.
That was not what troubled him.
It was the intent behind it all.
Was this truly just a transaction, or was it sothing more calculated? If this was his brother’s way of reaching out, then the situation was far more delicate than it appeared on the surface.
"I agreed to this because I believed you would prefer to take the risk," Racheal added after waiting for a response that never ca. Her eyes searched his face carefully. "Are you having second thoughts? We can turn back now."
Damian shook his head without hesitation.
After coming this far, with more than half a billion on the line, there was no way he would walk away. More importantly, his wives were not careless. If they were willing to send him into this situation despite the danger, then it ant the risk was sothing they believed could be handled.
"Do you have a plan?" Damian asked.
Racheal nodded imdiately, a mischievous smile forming on her lips.
"Of course," she said softly. "I always have a plan."
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