Parker walked out of the council hall, the weight of the elders’ voices still echoing in his ears. The air outside was cold, sharp, biting at his skin. He tried to breathe, but each breath felt heavy… like swallowing stones. His hands were trembling, and he shoved them deep into his coat pockets to hide it from Valen, who followed behind in silence. “Three days,” Parker muttered to himself. “Three damn days.” Valen glanced at him. “You’ve handled worse.” Parker gave a weak laugh. “No, Valen. I’ve handled louder. Not worse.” They parted ways at the parking lot, Valen heading toward the garages to round up Caruso’s boys while Parker lingered beside his car, staring at the black reflection on the window. He could see his own eyes staring back — tired, haunted, and just a little lost. He slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and sat there. He didn’t drive yet. His mind was too full. Hugo’s words played over and over in his head like a curse: Bring me names. Bring me bodie

Parker felt the line drawn clearly now: it cut through the room and through him. Every eye was fixed on him. Every breath felt like a wager. “What exactly do you want me to do, Elder?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Elder Hugo’s face was carved out of stone. He didn’t hurry. He didn’t raise his voice. That made what he said all the worse. “Find that Ethan, whoever he is,” Hugo said. “Bring him here. Break him if you must. But bring him. And bring Bill. Don’t return with only excuses and empty hands.” Parker swallowed. “If Bill resists?” he asked. Hugo’s cold eyes didn’t blink. “Teach him a lesson. Make him remember who raised him, who fed him, who made him a champion. Let every crack on his back tell the story of betrayal. And Ethan — make him answer for turning our blood against us.” A murmur went through the elders. Marco slammed a fist into the table, making the silverware jump. “And if Parker can’t find them?” he spat. “If he comes back with nothing but talk?” H

Ethan stepped out of the taxi, the soft thud of the door echoing against the cracked walls of the old street. The scent of roasted corn and engine smoke filled the air. He reached into his jacket pocket, fishing out his wallet as his gaze swept toward the small convenience shop across the road.Then—he felt it.That prickling tension at the base of his neck. A sixth sense honed by too many nights on alert. Someone was watching him.He didn’t turn right away. Instead, he adjusted his jacket, pretending to check his phone screen. In the faint reflection of the glass window beside the shop, he caught sight of them—five men, keeping their distance, pretending to chat near a fruit stand. They weren’t buying anything. Just waiting.He sighed quietly. Not today…Ethan pushed open the shop door, letting it creak halfway before he stopped. His reflection caught the shadow of one of them moving closer. He smiled faintly. “Persistent, huh?” he muttered under his breath, then stepped back out.Th

Ethan stopped mid-stride.The low murmur behind him carried—fear, panic, disbelief. He could have walked away. He should have. But something in Red Cap’s tone—the way he said “you don’t know who you’re messing with”—lingered like a splinter.He exhaled slowly, turned his head just enough for them to see his profile.“Hold up,” he said, voice low but clear. “Who sent you?”The whispering stopped. The air thickened.No one answered.Ethan turned fully this time. His eyes were cold, unreadable. “I said, who sent you?”Vest—still clutching his ribs—spat on the ground. “Man, we ain’t telling you nothing.”Ethan started walking back toward them. Step by step. Each footfall made the group edge backward instinctively.“I’m only going to ask once more.”Red Cap tried to stand, leaning on a wall, breathing ragged. “We—we just wanted your wallet, man. That’s it.”Ethan’s gaze flicked across the five of them. “You’re lying.”Before any of them could react, he moved.In one fluid blur, he grabbed

The air in the arena felt heavy that night. Everyone knew something big was about to happen. Word had spread fast — the Bellano family had found new allies. Their fighters had joined forces with another underground club known as The Black Fist, a brutal group that fought with no mercy. Together, they were coming for Aria’s fight club.Aria stood at the back of the arena, her hands clasped tightly. “They won’t stop until they destroy us,” she said softly.Beside her, Ethan nodded once. “Then we don’t give them the chance.”Bill stood nearby, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. “I’ll take tonight’s fight,” he said, his deep voice calm but firm. “They want to break us? They’ll have to go through me first.”Aria hesitated. “Bill, their fighter is from Black Fist. He’s dangerous. You don’t need to—”Bill smiled faintly. “Aria, you gave me back my life… and you saved my daughter. This is the least I can do.”Ethan placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just don’t die in there,” he sai