Chapter-47 Confrontation at the Auction House

With the fake reaper gone, the train shuddered and groaned, gradually returning to normal. The passengers, once trapped in illusions, began to awaken, their expressions dazed but relieved.

Looking back, he realized... that the whisper properly he had already had this plan for the old leader Jackson.

But why...does the cartel have something he need.

Daemon's face twisted with concern as he started pacing in circles. 'That's what he meant by my betrayal... I just didn't have time to think about it,' he thought.

Then he comprehended that he wasn't able to anticipate this because the whisper had this plan ahead and he might have been way smart than him as they sure wont call him a the whisper for no reason, as every action had been a calculated step toward whatever his goal is just like he did however he was just to slow.

I should have seen this coming. I'm slipping, and that can't happen.

Adriana, now back to normal, walked over to Daemon, her eyebrows raised, she placed a hand on her hip, the other reaching out to gently touch his arm. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He's never this agitated. Something serious must have happened. What is he hiding?

Daemon crossed his arms, his expression hardened. "...There's someone I tried manipulating, but they got ahead of me," he admitted.

'That must be why he seems so off. But I can tell there's more to it. He's not being completely honest.' Adriana thought before she tilted her head, studying him. "Alright, but you're not telling me everything," she pressed.

Daemon managed a cold smile and spoke in a flat tone. "They exposed me to the cartel. That's why the fake reaper was here. It seems they were already onto me. You know what that means."

She deduced that if the cartel knew that Daemon betray them by helping her he will get a very large bounty on his head and the cartel will become reckless going after the police to.

"We have to take down the cartel right now," Adriana said sharply, her eyes narrowing. "What will you do?"

As the train came to a stop and other passengers started exiting, Daemon replied with resolve, "Do what I should have been doing." He moved to leave the train.

Just as Daemon reached the car door, Adriana's hand appeared, blocking his way. She looked at him with an unyielding gaze. "Wait. Let me get the car, and we'll go together," she insisted.

"No time," Daemon retorted sharply. "You know if my identity is really exposed, they might already be on high alert. All organizations and clans will be wary of me." he step forward his eyes locking with her.

Damn it. This is worse than I thought. If the cartel knows, then my cover is blown. Every second I stand here, they're tightening the noose.

Adriana's eyes narrowed further. "If you rush in without a plan, you'll just get yourself killed. We need to be smart about this." She placed a hand on his chest, trying to keep him from moving forward.

Daemon's expression softened slightly. "And if we wait, they'll have time to tighten their grip. Every second counts." He gently brushed her hand aside, his touch lingering for a moment.

Frustration flashed in Adriana's eyes. "You're always like this, thinking you can handle everything on your own. But you can't! Not this time," she argued, torn between agreeing with Daemon's urgency and cautioning against reckless action.

Why won't he listen? He's putting himself in more danger than necessary. I need to make him see reason.

While she knew about his exposed identity, she sensed that Daemon was hiding more from him thinking back to how many time she encounter him he was never this agitated or in a rush.

Daemon's resolve remained unshaken. "Maybe not. But I can't let the broker escape," he said firmly, acknowledging the risk but unwilling to let his only lead slip away.

Lightly brushing aside Adriana's hand, he stepped out of the train car. Instantly, he noticed that the sky had darkened, a stark contrast to the daylight when he had entered. "Why is it already night? Why aren't the passengers reacting to this?" he wondered, scanning his surroundings with growing unease.

Something's not right. It's as if we're still caught in an illusion. But why aren't they affected?

Daemon noticed that all the other passengers moved as if they were soulless, stepping off the train onto the sidewalks without any sign of awareness. Ignoring this eerie sight, he focused on his mission: finding the broker at the auction house to confirm if his identity had indeed been exposed.

I have to stay focused. The broker is the key. If I can get to him, I can figure out how deep this goes.

Adriana watched him go, her expression a mix of determination and concern. "Be careful, Daemon," she whispered to herself, resigned to the fact that she couldn't stop him now. 'If only he had waited, I could have called for backup and gone with him,' she thought regretfully.

As Daemon arrived at the auction house by running, he noted the absence of any cars outside, rain also began to fall heavily, punctuated by flashes of thunder. Inside the building, he found it deserted, wondering if Carlos and Luis were already here laying in wait.

Walking through the auction hallway, Daemon suddenly heard footsteps and breathing from both sides. Without alerting the attackers that he was aware, he swiftly dodged two knife attacks, seizing their arms and flipping them into the hallway. As they landed heavily, he recognized Carlos and Luis.

"What's going on, guys? Why are you attacking me?" Daemon demanded, realizing the gravity of his situation. 'I really am exposed,' he thought grimly.

Carlos and Luis kept swapping hands from their knives, glaring at him. "You've come to ruin our business," they accused simultaneously.

"What do you mean?" Daemon demanded, trying to gather information.

With swift aggression, Carlos and Luis lunged forward again. "Survive, and you might find out," they snarled.

Despite their coordinated attack, Daemon's combat prowess surpassed theirs, he swiftly countered, using their momentum against them. His elbows struck their faces, drawing blood from there nose that it incapacitating them.

Releasing them, Daemon stood over Carlos and Luis. "They may fight normal humans, but I'm not normal," he declared coldly, assessing the fallen attackers.

If they were sent to kill me, the broker must have known I'd come. This isn't a fight; it's a message.

Searching their bodies, he retrieved keys from each of them, moving swiftly, he headed for the elevator. Inside, he used both keys simultaneously in the keyhole, recalling how the broker had used a similar method to access an underground area before, this time, he was heading up to the top floor, where he presumed the broker's office was located.

When the elevator doors opened, Daemon found himself facing a large office with black and yellow décor. The broker sat at a desk, finishing a meal, with Adrian standing nearby.

"You've decided to come here," the broker remarked casually.

"I need something from you," Daemon stated firmly, stepping out of the elevator.

Stay calm. Show no fear. This is just another game of chess, and I need to stay one move ahead.

"Really?" The broker adjusted his suit and glanced at Adrian. "Go, get the helicopter ready. I won't be long," he instructed her, indicating that he was aware of the seriousness of Daemon's visit.

Daemon walked further into the office, passing Adrian who had just entered. Without hesitation, he addressed the Broker directly. "I need information about your leader," he demanded, his tone unwavering.

The Broker's eyes flicked with interest at Daemon's boldness. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors about me," he responded calmly leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah, about loyalty," Daemon replied sharply.

"So why aren't you loyal?" the Broker questioned, his tone probing.

"What do you mean? I am loyal," Daemon asserted.

The Broker's frustration erupted as he slammed his fist down on the desk, leaving a dent. "I gave you a chance to prove your loyalty, and yet you conspire with Jaden," he accused sharply.

He's angry. Good. Angry people make mistakes.

Daemon's expression hardened. "Well, it seems like I've been exposed. If I'm sure of it, the whisper... when I find him, I'll make his death worse than yours," he threatened coldly.

"Watch your tone," the Broker warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"Watch my tone?" Daemon retorted fiercely. "I only watch my tone when I'm speaking to family. Something you wouldn't understand after what you did to them."

The Broker's eyes glinted with a sadistic pleasure. "Your family? I've killed many families. I'm sure you can imagine the pleasure it brought me."

Keep it together. Don't let him get under your skin. Focus on the goal.

As Daemon revised his memories he perceived that they all, mightn't have cared what happened to him or his family they all took pleasure in what they were doing.

Daemon's smirk disappeared, replaced by a chilling glare. "Enjoyed it, did you? Then savor it, because I'm about to make you pay for every single one."

With the Broker now enraged his temper flared. "You think you can threaten me? You think you can defy me?"

Daemon chuckled darkly. "Defy you? No, I just don't fear you. There's a difference."

"You should fear me," the Broker snarled, his anger palpable. "I can end you with a snap of my fingers."

Daemon's gaze remained unyielding. "You can try. But remember, when you play with fire, you're bound to get burned."

The Broker's fists clenched tightly. "You're playing a dangerous game, Mortis."

Daemon shrugged casually, a cruel smile on his lips. "Life's a game, Broker. And I'm very good at it."

The Broker leaned in, his voice a menacing growl. "You think you're untouchable?"

Daemon's smile turned icy. "I know I am. And that scares you, doesn't it?"

Rage contorted the Broker's face. "You're nothing but a thorn in my side. I'll rip you out and crush you."

"Try it," Daemon responded calmly, his voice deadly. "But remember, a thorn can cause a lot of pain before it's removed."

With tension thick in the air, Daemon and the Broker stared each other down, each aware that their confrontation was reaching a critical point.