“I have to do something about this,” Dane muttered under his breath, eyes fixed on the table, though his thoughts were already a mile away. “We can’t keep sitting around like this. We have to move. We have to act.”He slid his empty teacup aside and stood slowly. The café was quiet, tucked away in a sleepy alley, far from the chaos of the ship. It was the only place he could breathe. But even here, trouble always had a way of finding him.He stepped outside.The air had cooled since sunset, and a soft breeze stirred the dust in the street. His bike waited across the road, leaning slightly to one side like it had been waiting too long.“One ride. Just one. Then I’ll head back,” he said to himself. He stepped off the curb, tightening the strap of his leather jacket.Then he heard it.Engines.Low and deep at first—then louder.He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing.Four motorcycles rumbled down the narrow road, kicking up dust as they rolled past the café’s entrance. Riders in bla

“Hey, hold up a second,” Dane said, walking up behind Marco. “Let me ask you something. How the hell did those guys just show up out of nowhere?”He glanced back toward the alley where the bikers had just been dragged off, groaning.Marco looked over his shoulder with a slight smirk. “What do you mean?”“I mean—” Dane pointed. “Those guys. Your men. They came out like ghosts. Like… what? You had an army hidden behind the trash cans?”Marco shrugged. “Not an army. Just… enough.”He gestured around the street casually. “Look around. You see that guy checking under the car? Mine. That teenager walking the dog? Mine too.”Dane squinted. “No way.”“Way,” Marco replied, calm and matter-of-fact. “Whenever I move, I’ve got people stationed nearby. Watching. Ready. Not too many. Just the right amount.”Dane was quiet for a moment, then chuckled. “Okay, but come on. You’re not the president or anything.”He crossed his arms. “Even Butcher doesn’t roll this heavy.”Marco’s face changed slightly

Dane frowned. “If you don’t have a bike, just say so. Don’t hand me something that doesn’t even belong to you. This belongs to the bikers who were chasing me. If I take it and another one of their members sees me riding it, they’ll come after me. That’s not going to end well—it could cause another war between me and them.”Marco smirked. “You’re right—fighting isn’t good. But don’t call that war. That’s nothing. When you see a real war, you’ll run.”Dane stared at him. “So… yes or no? Or at least tell me where the nearest filling station is so I can put fuel in my own bike.”Marco shook his head. “No, I don’t know. And you’re supposed to be tough—Butcher’s man. You shouldn’t care about who owned the bike before. If another of their guys sees you with it, don’t think too much. Just take the bike and survive. That’s how it works in the mafia world.”Dane eyed him. “Bold words from a man who’s not even part of the mafia anymore. Didn’t you give your life to Christ?”Marco chuckled and st

“A lot’s happened,” Dane said. “It hasn’t been long since Jane and I came back from that forest mission. And even that one went to Leo—and he’s still sitting on the five million in cash.”Jane nodded. “Yeah, and now we’ve got another one.”“Be ready,” Butcher ordered.“I’m ready,” Dane replied.They stepped out of the office.“I don’t have my bike,” Dane muttered. “I’m going to need it for this mission.”As he left Butcher’s office, his phone rang. An unknown number flashed on the screen.“Come outside,” a voice said. Then the line went dead.Dane rushed into his room, grabbed his gun, and walked off the ship. Passing a few of the Mafia guards, he spotted a truck pulling up. His hand moved to his gun, ready for trouble.The truck stopped. A man stepped out.“Mr. Dane!” he shouted.Dane stepped down from the ship to the road.“Take this letter,” the man said, handing it over before walking away.Dane tore it open.Hey, it’s me—Marco. Good. I didn’t expect you to listen to me. But I sen

They moved toward the warehouse, stepping over the bodies that littered the street.Then they spotted movement—three men coming from behind the warehouse, and another three emerging from the front, guns in hand, taking cover behind a car.“Looks like they knew we were coming,” Dane said.“Yeah, but they don’t know where we are,” Jane replied. “That gives us the edge.”“Then let’s move,” Dane said.They rose from cover together. Six men in total—three on the right, three on the left. Dane took aim at the right group while Jane locked on to the left.The street erupted with gunfire. All six dropped before they could fire back—so fast it was impossible to tell who had hit who.Without wasting a second, Dane and Jane sprinted to the warehouse. Instead of charging through the front, they cut around to the back, hoping for another way in.There—a small metal door at the rear of the building.They peered through the small door. Inside, it was pitch-black.“Anyone in here?” Dane whispered.“C