Fin stepped out of the private elevator into the underground parking level. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of polished metal and expensive leather. Low professional lighting cast long shadows across the sleek black vehicles lined up in reserved bays.
Marcus and Elena were already waiting beside a matte-black Rolls-Royce Cullinan Black Badge. The massive SUV gleamed under the lights, imposing and silent.
Fin approached without a word. He opened the rear door himself and slid inside. The interior was luxurious — soft black leather, ambient lighting, and the subtle scent of premium materials.
Once settled, he looked at Marcus.
"The reason?"
Marcus closed the door behind him and took the front passenger seat. Elena sat in the back beside Fin, posture straight, gaze forward, clearly uneasy under his scrutiny.
"Madam assigned a personal team for you, sir," Marcus said evenly. "She wants you to meet them… and she wants you to deal with the traitor yourself."
Fin's fingers drummed slowly on the armrest as the Cullinan purred to life and began gliding smoothly out of the garage.
"New guards, huh…" he muttered, voice low and cold. His eyes flicked briefly toward Elena, who shifted slightly but said nothing.
The Rolls-Royce merged into city traffic, lights streaking past the tinted windows. Fin leaned back, expression unreadable.
"Take me to them," he said simply.
Marcus nodded once.
"As you wish, sir."
The Cullinan glided through the streets before turning into a discreet underground facility attached to one of the Harrington family's private warehouses on the outskirts of the city. Heavy security gates opened silently, and the car descended into a well-lit, reinforced parking area.
When the door opened, Fin stepped out first. The air was cooler here, carrying the faint scent of concrete and machinery. A small team of six new operatives stood waiting in a neat line — all of them sharp, disciplined, and clearly handpicked. They wore dark tactical clothing, expressions neutral but eyes sharp.
Fin observed them in silence for a long moment.
Unlike the polished former special forces bodyguards he was accustomed to, these operatives carried the unmistakable aura of seasoned mercenaries. They looked as though they had spent years surviving battlefields rather than standing outside boardrooms.
A towering bald giant with a thick beard rested a heavy rifle against his shoulder, his massive frame resembling a walking fortress. Beside him stood a man with long dreadlocks and a face carved with old scars, his cold eyes betraying a lifetime of violence. Another, with messy dark hair and a tattoo winding up his neck, radiated a quiet, predatory danger that needed no introduction.
The only woman among them leaned casually against the wall, short dark hair framing an unreadable expression as she idly rolled a lollipop between her lips. Nearby, a bespectacled man in a tactical vest watched everything with unsettling composure, his calm, calculating gaze suggesting that his mind was every bit as lethal as the weapons surrounding him.
Fin turned to Marcus.
"They don't look like normal guards," he said.
Marcus nodded.
"They aren't. To put it simply, they are called the Shadow Guardians of Harrington. When your great-great-grandfather founded the Harrington Trading Company, the seas were treacherous. The ships carrying valuable goods were constantly robbed or looted. The guards he had at the time weren't strong enough to confront the pirates… or they were bought off. So he created the first Shadow Guardians. He gathered orphans from the surrounding gangs — at least two hundred children. Only five survived the training."
Marcus's voice grew quieter, more serious.
"The tradition has been passed down from heir to heir. After your father died, his team died with him. These are the members who succeeded them. Their lives are tied to yours. If something happens to you, their lives are forfeit at the same time. Unlike the others you've had so far, they won't answer to anyone — only to the heir of the Harrington family."
Fin studied the team again, his expression unreadable. The operatives met his gaze without flinching. There was no fear in their eyes — only loyalty and quiet readiness.
"What are their names?" he asked, internally bewildered that he had never known about something like this before.
Before Marcus could reply, the leader stepped forward. His eyes locked directly onto Fin.
"Echo One, sir," he said, his voice low and steady.
Fin raised an eyebrow.
"Echo One?"
Marcus nodded.
"They don't have names, identities, or past lives. They are echoes to their master." He pointed to the woman beside the leader. "That's Echo Two. The others are Echo Three, Four, Five, and Six."
Fin pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath.
"What a weird naming system, Marcus…"
He leaned against the car, his fingers tapping once on the hood.
"Anyway, where's the guy?"
"The traitor?" Marcus's jaw tightened slightly. "We have him in holding, sir. He's one of the mid-level security personnel who was on the Monaco detail. He's already confessed to leaking information to an outside contact."
Fin's eyes darkened.
"Bring him to me."
The Echo team stood at attention as Marcus nodded to one of the guards by the door. The guard entered another room and returned moments later, dragging the traitor with him. The man had clearly taken a quiet beating over the past two days — his face was bruised and swollen, his clothes torn and stained with sweat and blood. He looked up as Fin approached, fear flashing across his pale face.
Fin stopped a few feet away, his hands in his pockets.
"I'm sure you had your reasons for betraying the hand that feeds you," he said calmly. "So don't bother with excuses. But I'll give you one chance to leave here alive."
Marcus turned sharply toward him.
"Fin—"
His voice cut off as Fin raised a hand. He looked at the guards holding the traitor.
"Uncuff him."
The guards hesitated, glancing at Marcus for confirmation. But Echo One had already moved. He looked at the guard holding the man and extended his palm, cold and precise.
"Keys."
The guard immediately handed them over. Echo One uncuffed the metal restraints around the traitor's wrists. The man stumbled forward as the guards released him, nearly falling to his knees.
Fin stepped closer, his voice low and steady.
"I'll give you a fair chance. If you can beat me unconscious before I kill you, you can leave here unharmed. No one will say a word. But if you can't… I will kill you."
The traitor's bloodied face stared up at Fin in disbelief.
"Why?" he asked hoarsely.
Fin's expression didn't change.
"Well, it's not the first time I've been betrayed. I'm sure it won't be the last. So I need to take the initiative never to get betrayed again, right?"
Not only the traitor but the others — Marcus, Elena, and the Echo team — looked confused. Marcus's face paled with visible panic as Fin continued.
The underground facility was deathly silent except for the low hum of fluorescent lights and the distant drip of water from a pipe somewhere in the shadows. The air felt cold and damp against the skin, carrying the metallic tang of blood and concrete dust.
The traitor — a mid-level security operative in his thirties — stared up at Fin with wide, disbelieving eyes. His face was already bruised and swollen from the past two days of "questioning." Blood trickled from a cut on his lip as he slowly pushed himself to his feet.
"You're serious…" he rasped, voice hoarse.
Fin didn't bother to reply. He simply removed his jacket and tossed it aside, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt with deliberate, calm movements. His eyes were cold, almost detached.
The traitor's hands trembled as he clenched them into fists. He glanced at Marcus, then at the Echo team standing silently nearby. No one moved to intervene. Echo One's eyes were locked on Fin, waiting for any order.
With a desperate, animalistic growl, the traitor lunged forward.
The first punch was wild and sloppy. Fin sidestepped it easily, his movements sharp and controlled. He countered with a brutal elbow to the man's ribs — crack — the sound echoing through the concrete room. The traitor gasped, staggering back, clutching his side as pain exploded through his chest.
Fin didn't give him time to recover.
He stepped in close and drove a knee into the man's stomach. The traitor doubled over, coughing violently, spittle and blood spraying from his mouth. Fin grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face into his rising knee — thud — blood spraying from the man's broken nose in a hot mist.
The traitor swung wildly again, desperation giving him strength. His fist connected with Fin's nose, snapping his head back. Fin stumbled, blood trickling down his face and into his mouth, the metallic taste sharp on his tongue.
"Fin!" Marcus's face darkened with rage. He was about to move, but Fin stopped him with a raised hand.
"Wait, Marcus. Don't move."
Marcus's face was clearly troubled. Even though the traitor was at his limit, a trained soldier was not someone Fin should be fighting.
Fin swiped the blood from his nose and laughed — a low, manic sound that sent a chill through the room.
"Damn… that really hurts," he blurted out, a wild glint in his eyes.
While the Echo team looked visibly unsure, Echo Two — the only woman on the team — took the lollipop from her mouth and laughed softly.
The traitor stood, breathing ragged, his face bloody. The desperation for survival fueled his adrenaline. Before Fin could react, he lunged, grabbing Fin around the waist and lifting him. Fin's face darkened. He drove an elbow into the man's back, but the traitor wouldn't let go. With a desperate grunt, he slammed Fin to the ground.
Fin hit the concrete with a heavy thud, pain exploding through his back. The traitor didn't wait. He climbed on top of him, raining fists down on his face.
"Die… you bastard… If not for you… you know nothing about struggle, you golden bastard…"
Elena quickly pushed Marcus.
"Marcus, stop him… Madam will kill you if something happens to fin…"
Marcus was torn. He didn't know what to do.
Fin took the beating, blood filling his mouth, pain blooming across his face with every punch. But more than the pain, he felt a strange, twisted peace. A peace he hadn't felt in a long time. Every punch felt like penance for being weak, for being pathetic.
Not anymore.
Fin's eyes reddened. He caught one of the traitor's punches mid-swing.
"Thank you," Fin whispered.
The traitor mumbled, confused — "Wha—"
Fin yanked the man's arm, pulling him off balance. In one fluid motion, he climbed onto the traitor's back and locked his arm around his neck in a tight chokehold. The traitor struggled wildly, nails clawing at Fin's arm, legs kicking desperately against the floor. His face turned purple, veins bulging as he gasped for air.
The others watched in stunned silence. Marcus and Elena looked frozen in disbelief.
"He's… he's killing him," Elena whispered, her voice barely audible.
Fin's grip tightened, his muscles straining. The traitor's struggles grew weaker, his kicks slowing to feeble twitches. A final, choked gurgle escaped his throat before his body went limp.
Fin held the choke for a few seconds longer, then released the man's neck. The traitor collapsed to the floor, lifeless.
Fin stood up slowly, wiping blood from his split lip. His face was bruised and bloody, but his eyes were calm — almost serene.
He looked at the Echo team.
"Clean this up," he ordered quietly. "Make sure no one ever finds him."
Echo One nodded once without question and stepped forward with two others. They dragged the traitor's body away.
Fin turned to Marcus, his voice low and steady.
"Clean the rest of this up. And make sure the security team knows what happens to traitors."
Marcus nodded, his face pale.
"Yes, sir."
Fin turned toward Echo Two, who was standing nearby holding his jacket. He took it from her with a small nod.
"Thanks."
He slipped it on, the fabric slightly stiff against his bruised skin. His knuckles were swollen and bloody, his face marked with fresh cuts and swelling, but he didn't seem to care.
Echo Two studied him for a moment, her expression calm but her eyes sharp.
"I understand your desire to let loose," she said quietly, "but you should have left the killing to us. A person changes after taking a life."
Fin paused, his gaze distant. He touched the split on his lip, feeling the sting, and let out a slow breath.
"Maybe that's what I want," he said, his voice low and heavy. "I want to change."
***
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