Irene crouched on the edge of the rooftop, staring at the tangled mess of skyscrapers, alleyways, and streets below. The city felt like a puzzle—a massive, chaotic puzzle she had yet to figure out. She scanned the skyline, eyes darting from one shadowed corner to another. Somewhere down there, Davion was hiding. Somewhere down there, his fate—no, everyone’s fate—was being decided.Her phone buzzed in her pocket, shattering the quiet of the moment. She pulled it out, not expecting much. Another warning, another threat. She didn’t have time for either. But then, when she saw the unknown number, her curiosity gnawed at her.“Who is this?” she answered, her voice cutting through the static of the call.The voice that came through the line was cold—almost robotic. It sent a shiver up her spine.“You want Davion? So does everyone else. But you and I both know you’re not here to kill him.”Irene’s grip tightened on the phone. “What do you want?”“To warn you,” the voice continued, unaffected

The night air hit Davion’s face as he stepped out of the warehouse, his boots crunching against the gravel parking lot. The cold wasn’t enough to dull the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. His mind raced with thoughts of who might be behind the ambush, but as always, he couldn’t afford to linger. The game was never over. It just kept shifting.His fingers flexed as he adjusted his jacket, the scent of smoke lingering in his nose from the chaos he’d left inside. He had no idea who was pulling the strings, but it didn’t matter. He’d hunt them down one by one.The streetlights flickered as he walked towards his bike, parked at the end of the lot. But before he could reach it, he heard the faintest sound—a soft scrape against the concrete, like someone shifting their weight in the dark.Davion froze. He’d learned long ago to trust his instincts. And right now, they were screaming at him to move.Without warning, he spun, eyes scanning the shadows.A blur of movement caught his e

The tires of Beverly's car screeched as she swerved off the main road and onto a shadowy back street. Her hands were locked on the wheel, knuckles pale from the pressure, eyes darting between the road and the semi-conscious wreck sprawled across her passenger seat."You are the biggest idiot I've ever met," she muttered, stealing a glance at Davion, who was bleeding all over her seats. "Like, actually. Who just falls off a bridge and lands on a moving car?"Davion didn’t answer. He was barely awake, his breathing shallow, his skin pale beneath the layers of grime and blood. Beverly could see the gash on his side soaking his shirt, and it made her stomach twist.She gritted her teeth and hit the accelerator. They weren’t far from the old hideout—a dusty auto shop she used when she needed to disappear. Nobody really knew about it. Nobody except her.Ten minutes later, she slammed the brakes in front of a graffiti-tagged garage. The front looked like a building that had given up on life

Beverly’s eyes flicked to the door as she wiped the blood off her hands. Davion was still passed out on the couch, barely stirring, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The storm outside had gotten worse, and the low rumble of thunder only made the weight of the night heavier. Her mind raced, processing the new information she’d learned—someone was after Davion, and they were willing to destroy the entire city to get to him.Her fingers drummed nervously on the workbench as she considered her next move. This wasn’t just about a bounty anymore. Whoever was after Davion had more power than she could have ever imagined, and she was stuck in the middle of it all.Suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. A slight vibration shook the floor. Someone was close. Very close.Without a second thought, Beverly’s hand flew to the knife she kept hidden beneath her jacket, her instincts sharp. The sound of heavy boots hitting the ground outside sent a jolt of adrenaline th

The lights in the underground facility flickered, casting eerie shadows on the cold concrete walls. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and stale sweat, a mixture that seemed to hang in the air of the high-security prison where Mad Tiger had been kept for months. They called him Mad Tiger for a reason—he was dangerous, unhinged, and relentless.And right now, he was pretending to be unconscious.Lying motionless on the hard steel table, he could hear the footsteps of the guards echoing through the hall. He had trained himself to endure the pain, to lay still when needed. The past few days had been hell. He’d been tortured, drugged, and monitored, all in the name of "containment." But now, now it was time to make them regret ever underestimating him.Mad Tiger’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he pressed the back of his teeth together. Hidden within one of his molars was a small device—a tooth-triggered chemical surge. It had been planted in him years ago, back when he was