The God Of War's Hidden Daughter

Chapter 3

Three years ago, at just twenty-two, Alexander had already become a name that echoed across every military camp in the world.

In a single battlefield encounter, he had defeated the top generals of ten leading nations without assistance, without backup, and without retreat, a feat so unbelievable that many initially refused to accept it until the evidence of his victory forced even his enemies to acknowledge him as something beyond human expectations.

From that day forward, he was called the God of War, a title that followed him like a shadow no matter where he went.

Soon after, he was given control over Westcrest and tasked with building the Widowstorm Legion, a military force so powerful and disciplined that even the mention of its name was enough to force smaller nations into silence.

Two years later, his authority expanded once again when he was placed in command of the Darkmoon Legion, a secret organization that operated in the shadows, erasing corruption, eliminating threats that normal governments could not handle, and punishing those who believed themselves untouchable.

When western enemies once attempted to ignite global chaos, Alexander personally led the Widowstorm Legion into war, and by the end of that campaign, the enemy commander had been beheaded while what remained of a million-strong army was reduced to scattered remnants that never dared to regroup again.

Now, in the present moment, silence settled heavily inside the abandoned factory as Alexander slowly reined in the murderous aura that had been pouring out of him like a storm that refused to end.

His voice, when it finally came, was no longer loud, but it carried a pressure that made everyone around him straighten instinctively.

“Investigate.”

“Yes, Commander!” Marcus responded immediately, already moving without hesitation.

Alexander did not look at him as he continued speaking, his tone steady but filled with cold precision.

“Coordinate with the Redwood Falls Police Department and pull every record of suspicious vehicles entering and leaving this area from the moment I received Lily’s message until now.”

His eyes darkened further as his mind worked with ruthless clarity, turning emotion into structure and rage into strategy.

“I want results within thirty minutes.”

“Got it!” Marcus Hale nodded quickly, already dialing and issuing orders as he moved toward coordination channels with military efficiency.

A few seconds later, after ending the call, Marcus hesitated slightly before speaking again, as if the next piece of information carried weight he was unsure how to deliver.

“Commander…” he said carefully, “there is another update.”

Alexander turned his head slightly, his gaze sharp enough to silence hesitation before it could grow.

“Speak.”

Marcus swallowed once before continuing. “When will Archangel arrive?”

At the mention of the name, the atmosphere inside the factory subtly shifted, because even among the Darkmoon Legion, Archangel was not just a commander but a figure of absolute authority in the Eastern District, someone whose presence alone could change the balance of entire operations.

“The Darkmoon Legion is divided into five regions, and Archangel oversees one of them,” Marcus explained quickly. “I have already instructed him to mobilize all three-star and above operatives in the Eastern District. They are all en route to Redwood Falls now, regardless of their current missions.”

Alexander gave a small, controlled nod, his expression unchanged but his intent growing heavier.

“Good.”

There was a brief pause before they moved again, returning to the military jeep that still waited outside.

Marcus started the engine and looked toward him. “Commander, where to next?”

For a moment, Alexander said nothing, his fingers tightening slightly as his thoughts turned inward, connecting fragments of information that now pointed in multiple directions.

Finally, he spoke.

“Track down Evelyn,” he said quietly. “She might know who took Lily.”

“Understood!” Marcus replied immediately, already typing commands into his device while the vehicle began to move.

Minutes later, his phone chimed with a new update.

He checked it, and his expression shifted subtly, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his eyes before he turned slightly toward Alexander.

“Commander…” Marcus said carefully, “Ms. Cole’s location has been confirmed.”

Alexander’s gaze hardened instantly. “Where.”

Marcus took a steady breath before answering. “Suite 308, Royal Feast Papillon Hotel, Redwood Falls.”

The name hung in the air for a moment, heavy and unclear.

Marcus quickly added, as if trying to soften the implication. “It may simply be a business meeting. There is no confirmed hostile activity.”

Alexander did not respond immediately.

Instead, he reached for a cigarette, lit it slowly, and took a long drag, the smoke drifting out as his eyes remained cold and unreadable, reflecting nothing but calculation buried beneath restrained emotion.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

“Drive.”

Boom.

Marcus slammed the accelerator, and the military vehicle surged forward, cutting through Redwood Falls like a blade through silence, as the unseen storm tightened its grip on the city.

In Room 308 of the Royal Feast Pavilion in Redwood Falls, the air felt heavy with luxury that no longer meant comfort, only pressure and control.

A man and a woman sat facing each other on a wide leather sofa that looked expensive enough to belong in a palace, yet the mood inside the room felt colder than any prison.

The man was about twenty-eight years old, dressed in designer clothing so perfectly arranged that every detail of him seemed calculated to display wealth, influence, and authority. A cigar rested casually between his fingers, while a glass of red wine turned slowly in his other hand as if time itself had no power over him. His posture was relaxed, but his presence was sharp, and the confidence he carried was not the kind earned through kindness or respect, but through power that had never been challenged.

His name was Julian Ashford.

Across from him sat Evelyn Cole.

At twenty-five, she was the kind of woman whose beauty could silence a room without effort, with delicate features, graceful posture, and a natural elegance that once made her known as the most beautiful woman in Texas. She had once walked into gatherings where even the proudest women felt overshadowed by her presence, and even the most confident men struggled to speak without hesitation.

But none of that remained now.

The woman sitting in front of Julian looked like a shadow of that past life.

Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her face pale and exhausted, and her body trembled faintly as she tried to stay composed even though every part of her looked like it was breaking from the inside. The pride that once defined her was gone, replaced only by desperation that no amount of dignity could hide.

Because she was no longer here as the most admired woman in Texas.

She was here as a mother who had lost her child.

“Mr. Ashford…” Evelyn pleaded, her voice cracking as she lowered her head deeply, the act itself feeling like it was tearing something inside her. “Please… please help me find my daughter.”

For a brief moment, Julian did not respond.

Instead, he slowly raised an eyebrow, as if he had just heard something amusing rather than heartbreaking.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

“Hah,” he exhaled lightly, leaning back into the sofa as he took a slow drag from his cigar before deliberately releasing the smoke forward, letting it drift across Evelyn’s face without care or respect.

“Evelyn Cole…” he said with quiet amusement, “I never thought I would see the day you would beg me.”

His tone carried satisfaction, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment for a very long time.

He chuckled softly, taking another sip of wine before continuing.

“You were always so proud,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her broken expression. “Always looking down on men like me, as if we were beneath your attention.”

He tilted his head slightly, his smile turning sharper.

“I chased you for three years, Evelyn. Three long years where I didn’t even care that you had a little bastard you were raising on your own,” he added coldly, as if the words meant nothing to him beyond cruelty. “And yet, you never gave me even a single glance.”

Evelyn flinched at the insult, but she did not argue, because pride had already been buried beneath fear and desperation.

Julian leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on his knee as his gaze became more focused and dangerous.

“So tell me,” he said softly, “what changed? Why is the most arrogant woman in Texas now bowing her head in front of me?”

“Mr. Ashford…” Evelyn sobbed again, tears falling freely now as she lowered herself even further, as if her body could no longer carry the weight of her plea. “You can say anything you want about me. I don’t care anymore…”

Her voice trembled violently, breaking into fragments of pain and exhaustion.

“I have no one else to turn to…” she whispered. “I am begging you…”

For the first time, Julian’s relaxed expression shifted.

His eyes darkened slightly, and the smile on his face slowly deepened into something more controlled and deliberate.

“Oh?” he said quietly, leaning back again as he studied her like a man watching a situation unfold exactly the way he wanted it to. “So you really want my help?”

His gaze lingered on her with undisguised greed, slow and deliberate, as if he had already decided she was something to be taken rather than someone to be respected.

“So,” he said lazily, leaning back into the sofa as he swirled his wine, “what exactly is in it for me?”

Evelyn’s hands tightened at her sides so hard her fingers trembled, because she understood the meaning behind his words even before he finished speaking them. Her body shook slightly, but not from weakness alone, rather from the weight of a decision no mother should ever be forced to face.

She knew exactly what he wanted.

And she also knew she had nowhere else to go.

Her daughter was everything to her, the only reason she still breathed, the only reason she had not already collapsed under grief and fear.

“I’ll do anything…” she whispered hoarsely, her voice barely holding together as she lowered her head further. “As long as you help me find her.”

Those words carried everything she had left, her pride, her dignity, her future, even her sense of self, all compressed into a single broken plea.

Julian’s smile slowly twisted, no longer playful, but darker, sharper, and far more dangerous, as if he had been waiting for that exact surrender.

“Anything?” he repeated slowly, dragging the word out as though testing how far she had fallen.

Evelyn closed her eyes at that moment, and tears slipped silently down her cheeks, because she already knew there was no turning back after this point.

“Yes…” she replied softly, her voice almost gone. “Anything…”

Julian let out a cold, amused laugh, as if her answer confirmed something he had already believed about her all along.

“What a pathetic woman,” he said under his breath, though loud enough for her to hear every syllable.

Then his expression changed again, shifting from mockery into something more controlled, more calculated, as if he had just finalized a transaction in his mind.

“I might help you find that little brat,” he said lazily, taking another slow drag from his cigar, “but I have two conditions.”

Evelyn’s body stiffened immediately, fear flashing through her exhausted expression.

“First,” Julian continued, his eyes glinting as he looked at her without hesitation, “you come here and let me have a taste of what I’ve been wanting for years.”

The silence in the room deepened, heavy and suffocating.

He exhaled smoke slowly, watching her reaction with quiet satisfaction.

“Second,” he added, leaning back again as if discussing something casual, “once your daughter is found, you stay with me for one full month. No questions. No excuses.”

Evelyn’s lips parted slightly, but no sound came out at first.

Her hands trembled violently as she stood there, feeling as though the room itself had closed in around her, trapping her between desperation and humiliation.

Her daughter’s face flashed in her mind, small, frightened, and alone.

That image broke whatever resistance she had left.

“I… I agree…” she whispered at last, her voice hollow and defeated as she nodded weakly.

Julian’s grin returned instantly, satisfied and sharp.

“Then come here,” he said, patting the empty space beside him as if calling a servant rather than speaking to a human being. “Give me a massage. If you do it well, I’ll make a call and have someone start looking for your little brat.”

He spoke the last words casually, as if Lily’s life was nothing more than a bargaining chip on a table.

Evelyn hesitated for only a fraction of a second before forcing herself forward, every step feeling heavier than the last.

Inside her chest, fear and hope collided violently, because even though she hated herself for what she was about to do, she clung desperately to one thought that kept her moving.

If he helps find Lily… then it will all be worth it.

Her voice came out faint and fragile as she finally asked, almost as if begging the last shred of certainty from him.

“You’ll… keep your word, right?”

Taking a deep breath, Evelyn forced herself to step forward, her legs feeling heavy as if each step was dragging her deeper into something she could no longer escape.

She had barely reached the sofa when Julian’s hand suddenly shot out.

“b***h, get over here!”

Before she could even react, he yanked her violently into his arms.

Boom.

At that exact moment, the entire door exploded inward as if it had been struck by a cannon rather than a human force, and wooden splinters flew across the room like deadly shards, crashing into the walls, the furniture, and scattering across the floor.

The smile on Julian’s face froze instantly.

Evelyn gasped, her body stiffening in shock.

And standing in the shattered doorway was a single figure.

Alexander.

He did not speak at first.

He did not move.

He simply stood there, his presence filling the entire room like a storm that had just broken loose from the sky. His eyes were cold and bottomless, burning with a rage so intense it felt as though everything it touched would be reduced to ash. The killing intent around him was not something visible, yet it pressed against the air like an invisible force that made breathing difficult.

Julian slowly released his grip, his expression shifting from confusion to irritation, and then to anger as he stood up from the sofa.

“Ah!” Evelyn suddenly screamed, the moment she saw Alexander clearly, and in a desperate surge of emotion she struggled violently until she broke free from Julian’s hold.

“Damn it!” Julian roared, his face twisting with fury as he stepped forward. “Who the hell dares interrupt me? Are you looking for death?!”