8

The Arthur family cemetery was eerily quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the cool night breeze. Tyler stood before his grandfather's grave, his expression unreadable.

At his feet lay the severed head of Don Gil, eyes staring lifelessly at the ground. Tyler bent down, placing the head gently on the grave.

“Grandfather, I have avenged you,” Tyler murmured, his voice carrying through the stillness of the night. “Don Gil is dead, but my work isn’t done. I’ll retrieve the family heirloom and restore the honor they stole from us. I promise you.”

He bowed his head for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The memories of the massacre haunted him, fueling his determination.

As he straightened up, his eyes blazed with resolve. He turned away from the grave and walked briskly toward the cemetery gates, disappearing into the darkness.

Meanwhile, at the Gil family villa, chaos and despair hung heavy in the air. The grand hall, once a place of opulence and power, was now filled with the wails of mourning and the quiet sobs of those too shocked to speak.

Don Gil’s body lay on a marble table, a white sheet draped over him.

Mary Gil stood at the head of the table, her face twisted in grief and rage. She clenched her fists, her voice breaking as she screamed at the servants, “Why hasn’t Philip been called yet? Get him here immediately!”

A young servant trembled, her voice shaking as she responded, “He’s on his way, Miss Mary. He’s coming back tonight.”

Mary’s eyes flashed with anger. “He better be! That bastard Arthur orphan thinks he can just walk in and kill our father? He’ll pay for this. I swear, he’ll pay!”

An older man, one of Don’s closest advisors, stepped forward cautiously. “Miss Mary, please calm down. Philip will handle this. He’s—”

“Calm down?” Mary snapped, her voice rising. “Our father is dead! Torn apart like an animal! I won’t calm down until Tyler Arthur’s head is mounted on our wall.”

The advisor took a step back, swallowing hard. “Of course, Miss Mary. But we need to be careful. Tyler is dangerous. He’s already taken out—”

“I don’t care!” Mary interrupted, her voice choked with emotion. “He’s nothing but a worthless orphan who got lucky. Philip will take care of him.”

Just then, the sound of helicopter blades echoed through the night, signaling Philip Gil’s arrival.

At the Military District, the helicopter landed smoothly on the tarmac. Philip Gil, the fourth son of Don Gil, stepped out, his face grim. He moved with purpose, his eyes scanning the area as if searching for answers in the darkness.

An officer approached him, saluting sharply. “Mr. Gil, we’re ready to escort you to the villa,” the officer said, his voice steady.

Philip nodded, his expression unreadable. “Let’s go. I need to know everything that happened last night.”

As they drove towards the villa, Philip’s phone rang. He answered immediately. “Mary, I’m on my way. What’s the situation?”

“Philip, it’s worse than we thought,” Mary’s voice trembled with barely contained fury. “Tyler Arthur did this. He brought Dad’s head back to the cemetery like a sick trophy.”

Philip’s grip on the phone tightened. “Tyler Arthur? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” Mary nearly shouted. “He waltzed in here, killed Dad, and made us look like fools. He’s a dead man, Philip. You have to—”

“I’ll handle it,” Philip cut her off, his voice cold and measured. “I’ll take care of everything. Just make sure no one does anything stupid before I get there.”

He hung up and leaned back in his seat, his mind racing.

Tyler Arthur, the name stirred something deep within him.

The orphaned son of a family that was once their greatest rival, now back from the dead to exact his revenge. Philip’s jaw clenched. This wasn’t just about family honor anymore; it was personal.

As the car pulled up to the villa, Philip stepped out, his presence immediately commanding attention. The remaining members of the Gil family and their allies looked at him with a mix of hope and desperation.

He walked straight to the hall where Don Gil’s body lay.

Mary rushed to him, her eyes red with tears. “Philip, you have to do something. He’s—”

“I know,” Philip said quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know, Mary. But this isn’t something we can rush into. Tyler is dangerous, and he’s not acting alone.”

“What do you mean?” Mary asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Philip’s eyes narrowed. “There’s someone behind him, pulling the strings. Tyler couldn’t have done this on his own. I’m going to Newton City tonight. There’s a big figure there, someone who knows the truth about Tyler’s return.”

Mary’s eyes widened. “You think it’s...”

“I don’t know who it is yet, but I’ll find out.” Philip’s voice was filled with a quiet, deadly resolve. “And when I do, I’ll crush them. Every last one of them.”

He turned to the rest of the room, his voice carrying the authority of a commander. “I want everyone to stay calm. Don’t make any moves until I get back. We’re not going to let this go unpunished, but we’re going to be smart about it.”

He glanced at his father’s covered body one last time before turning on his heel. “I’ll be back soon. And when I am, we’ll finish this.”

With that, he strode out of the villa, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. The Gil family was in mourning, but they were also preparing for war. And Philip Gil was going to make sure it was a war they would win.