The air was thick inside Daniel's high-rise office, but for once, the king wasn't relaxed. His wine glass sat untouched, his fingers drumming slowly against his mahogany desk. He had built this empire on control — control of money, control of information, control of fear.
But now — the control was slipping.
Shipments were vanishing — not stolen, just… disappearing.
Loyal enforcers — men Daniel trusted with his secrets — were going silent.
His offshore accounts? Several were emptied overnight, no trace, no digital fingerprints, nothing.
This wasn't a rival gang.
This wasn't the police.
This was something else — something Daniel couldn't see, couldn't predict, couldn't control.
Across the world, the brothers' plan was unfolding like silent poetry.
Faisal's new identity — completely clean, untouchable — was already a rising star in global business, creating companies tied to energy, technology, logistics, and finance. All legitimate on paper.
But hidden within those companies were doors only the brothers could open, allowing them to reroute Daniel's money, shipments, and contacts without leaving a trace.
Rayyan's Ghost Army — handpicked killers with no past and no future — had infiltrated Daniel's supply chain, not as enemies, but as workers, drivers, security guards, even accountants. They didn't strike — they studied, turning Daniel's empire into a machine set to collapse at a single command.
Malik — the enforcer reborn — worked in the silence between shipments, eliminating key players one by one, leaving no bodies behind. These men weren't murdered — they were erased like they never existed.
Ameer sat at the heart of it all — watching every move, intercepting every message Daniel sent, even before his own men could see them. Ameer's web wasn't just digital — it was alive.
For Daniel, it was hell.
There was no enemy to fight. No name to hunt.
Every lead ended in silence. Every move led to a dead end.
He screamed at his inner circle.
"Who's doing this?! Find me a name! Find me a face!"
But there was none.
The brothers' first move wasn't to kill Daniel.
It was to cut off his breath.
One of his main weapon shipments — disappeared.
A major drug route through Eastern Europe — vanished.
A trusted money launderer, gone without a trace — his safe houses found empty, every cent gone.
Daniel's empire didn't bleed — it starved.
Ameer's final touch was the most beautiful — he didn't just watch Daniel's network.
He fed it.
False intel.
Fake shipments.
Ghost enemies who didn't exist.
Every time Daniel thought he'd found the source, he was chasing shadows the brothers had created.
The king was blind — and didn't even know it.
There was no calling card.
No symbols.
No threats.
Just… silence.
The silence of everything Daniel had built collapsing — from the inside.
In his penthouse, Daniel smashed his wine glass against the wall.
"I want every contact traced! Every shipment guarded! Double the security on all accounts! Find me the ghost that's haunting me!"
His men were terrified — they had never seen Daniel this unbalanced.
But the truth was — Daniel was at war with ghosts.
Ghosts who didn't speak.
Ghosts who didn't leave tracks.
Ghosts who had no name.
And those ghosts were closer than Daniel could ever imagine.
Far away, in a private villa overlooking the sea, Faisal stood on the balcony — glass of water in hand.
The sun was rising, and in his reflection on the glass door, he saw his brothers behind him.
Rayyan.
Malik.
Ameer.
No words were spoken.
They didn't need to speak.
The kings had returned.
But this time, they were no longer playing the game.
They were rewriting the rules.
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End of Chapter 36 - The First Blood of the Reborn Kings