VEIL OF DESTINY :THE HIDDEN HEIR ASSERT

The air smelled of blood and gunpowder. The grand estate, once a symbol of power, was now eerily silent. Ochieng stood at the center of it all, his coat splattered with crimson, his breath steady despite the storm raging within him. His father lay lifeless behind him, the final chapter of an old war closed.

But peace was an illusion.

---

Tielen's voice broke through the radio static. "It's done?"

Ochieng wiped the blood from his fingers. "Yes."

"Then we have a problem."

A pause.

"The Grand Masters are moving."

Ochieng's grip tightened. The Grand Masters—figures who controlled the true underworld, rulers of empires far greater than his father's. He had barely taken his throne, and already, the vultures were circling.

---

Three days later, a private club in the heart of the city. A place where legends walked unseen, where fortunes were made and dynasties destroyed over a single glass of whiskey.

Ochieng arrived dressed in black, his presence commanding without effort. The room held the most powerful men and women in the world—billionaires, crime lords, fallen royalty, and warriors whose names were whispered in fear.

At the center of it all sat him.

Grand Master Zhou.

The last man to challenge his father. The one who had watched from the shadows, waiting for the throne to change hands.

Zhou smiled, tapping his cane against the floor. "You've inherited a kingdom of ashes."

Ochieng took his seat across from him. "Then I'll rebuild it."

The room fell silent.

Then Zhou laughed. "You've got fire. But fire alone won't save you."

Ochieng leaned forward, eyes like steel. "Then let's see who burns first."

---

The attack came that very night.

Ochieng had expected it. He had spent years studying the game, knowing the rules would never favor him. His men were prepared.

But the Grand Masters played differently.

A single assassin slipped through. One. That was all it took.

The blade grazed his throat before he even saw the movement.

Then—

Darkness.

Pain.

Falling.

A voice, soft and haunting.

"You are not ready."

And then—silence.

---