Chapter 15 - A Dance with Shadows
Damien moved through the sea of masked aristocrats with effortless grace, parting the crowd like a phantom. As he approached the gilded fireplace, Baron von Klaus raised his glass to a French diplomat, chuckling at an inside joke.
"A marvelous evening, Baron," Damien spoke, his voice cutting through the ambient hum of classical music with unmistakable resonance.
Von Klaus paused. He turned his head slowly, his piercing gray eyes narrowing behind his ivory mask as he looked Damien up and down.
"Do I know you, sir?" Klaus asked in fluent, clipped English.
"You knew my wife," Damien replied quietly, stepping into the warm glow of the firelight.
The Baron’s smile vanished instantly. A flicker of genuine shock crossed his weathered face, though he quickly masked it beneath decades of aristocratic composure. He excused himself from his circle and took two paces toward Damien, keeping his voice dangerously low.
"Damien Moretti," Klaus murmured, his fingers tightening around the stem of his crystal glass. "You possess incredible arrogance to walk into my home uninvited."
"And you possess incredible stupidity to send a hit squad to my home to touch my daughter," Damien countered, his tone icy enough to freeze the fire behind them. "Six years ago, you supplied the poison that killed Clara. You manipulated Selene Hart. And now, you’ve signed your own death warrant."
To Damien’s surprise, Klaus did not look afraid. Instead, a dry, bitter laugh escaped the old man's chest.
"You still believe this is about money and shipping lines, don't you, Moretti?" Klaus said, leaning in closer so none of the passing guests could hear. "You think Selene was the mastermind? You think Clara was an innocent flower caught in your corporate crossfire?"
Damien’s eyes darkened. "Watch your tongue."
"Clara never told you the truth of who she was," Klaus whispered, his words dripping with venomous amusement. "She ran from us. Clara wasn't an ordinary woman from a modest family. Her real name was Lady Clara Vance-De Sica. She was the firstborn daughter of the Grand Archon of the Sovereign Council."
Damien felt a sudden, cold jolt in his chest, though his face remained an impassive mask of stone.
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"She carried the purest imperial bloodline in Europe," Klaus continued, his eyes glittering behind the ivory slits. "When she fled to America and married you, she stole the Council's ancestral seal. And more importantly... she gave birth to a girl."
Klaus leaned close to Damien's ear. "Lily is not just a Moretti, Damien. She is the rightful sovereign heir to the Council's entire global throne. And the Archon will burn your world to ashes before he lets an American mafia prince raise the queen of the Black Sun."
