The morning arrived with an unnatural stillness, as if the city itself had paused to watch the storm Nathan knew was coming. The drizzle from the night before had stopped, but the streets glistened with residual rain, reflecting neon signs that buzzed faintly in the early light. Nathan, Cassandra, and Liam drove through the empty avenues in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.Nathan gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, his jaw tense. “We have to be precise,” he said finally, voice low but sharp. “One mistake and it all unravels.”Cassandra, sitting beside him, nodded. Her hands were folded in her lap, fingers tapping lightly. “We always are precise,” she replied. “The difference now is stakes. They’re personal.”Liam, in the back seat, leaned forward slightly. “Personal makes it dangerous,” he said. “Because it’s not just business or revenge anymore. Someone knows exactly where to hit.”Nathan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let his gaze sweep over the p

The city had barely begun to stir when Nathan, Cassandra, and Liam reached the edge of the industrial district again, though this time it was under a new tension—a quiet, predatory sort of calm. Streetlights reflected in puddles along the cracked asphalt, and the mist from the earlier drizzle hung in low clouds, curling along fire escapes and metal scaffolding. Nathan’s eyes scanned every shadow, every flicker of movement, like a predator anticipating its prey.“This feels different,” Cassandra murmured, voice low, her fingers tightening around Nathan’s arm. “Like someone’s been waiting… watching.”Nathan didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he let his gaze trace the perimeter of the empty warehouses, the closed gates, the faint outlines of stairwells and doorways that could conceal any number of threats. Finally, he said, “They’re not just watching. They’ve prepared. Every move we’ve made—they’ve anticipated it.”Liam’s arms were crossed, but his jaw was tense. “Prepared? Then we bet

The warehouse shook with the sound of crashing crates and shouts, the chaos feeding itself like wildfire. Nathan’s boots hit the slick concrete with precision, pivoting as a metal beam clanged down mere inches from his shoulder. Sparks flew, catching the dim red light, and the acrid smell of disturbed dust filled his lungs.“Cover me!” he barked, voice cutting through the storm of sounds.Liam moved instantly, sliding behind a toppled crate, gun drawn. “Where?”Nathan pointed toward the far side where shadows moved unnaturally fast—like predators in a synchronized hunt. “There. The first breach!”Cassandra was already in motion, crouching low, eyes scanning every corner, every reflection of the dim light on metal surfaces. “One wrong move, and it’s over,” she murmured, almost to herself.From the shadows, one figure lunged—a masked assailant, fast and precise. Nathan sidestepped, catching the arm mid-swing and flipping the figure onto the concrete. Liam’s gun cracked, the shot precise

The warehouse still trembled from the falling crates, but Nathan didn’t give it a second thought. His focus was entirely on Marcus, who struggled beneath the grip of his restraint, fury and disbelief twisting his features. Sweat dripped from the harsh lights above, glinting like tiny jewels across his skin, but Nathan didn’t relent. He wanted answers. He needed to know the depth of this betrayal.“Why, Marcus?” Nathan demanded, voice low, deadly calm. “After everything… why?”Marcus spat onto the concrete. “Why? You left cracks, Nathan! You always leave cracks. I watched, waited, and someone finally noticed. Marjorie. She saw the opportunity, and I… I took it. I wanted the recognition you never gave me. I wanted—”“—to ruin us?” Cassandra cut in, voice sharp, stepping closer, weapon still raised. Her eyes burned, not with fear, but with controlled rage. “You wanted to destroy what we built, what he built, just because you couldn’t stand being second?”“I wasn’t second,” Marcus snapped

The air in the warehouse was thick with smoke, dust, and the metallic scent of blood. Sparks from the broken wiring and splintered crates cast fleeting shadows across the concrete floor, flickering like firelight over a battlefield. Nathan’s breath came in sharp, controlled bursts as he scanned the room. Every corner, every shadow, was a potential threat. Marcus and Elena had orchestrated a perfect storm, and he knew the fight wasn’t just physical—it was psychological, designed to break them from the inside.“Move!” Nathan barked, pivoting as a masked figure lunged from the shadows. He caught the wrist, twisted, and sent the attacker sprawling into a pile of crates. Sparks erupted as metal collided, and Nathan didn’t pause. He had to keep moving, keep the others alive, and find the weak link before more chaos could consume them.Liam fired at another masked attacker moving too quickly for the eye to follow. “Nathan! There are too many of them!”“We make our own advantage!” Nathan yell