The door shook under the pounding, the metal frame warping with each slam. Dust drifted from the ceiling, the overhead fluorescent light flickering in nervous bursts.Jayden’s knuckles were white around the briefcase handle. His heartbeat drowned out everything until Aria’s hand gripped his shoulder, firm, grounding.“Stay low. Don’t freeze.”Her shotgun pumped once, the sound brutal in the silence.Kade slid into position beside the entrance, rifle aimed at the door. His jaw clenched, eyes hard. “Three, maybe four outside. Could be more in the street.”Aria crouched opposite him, breathing steady. “Not Syndicate muscle they’re too disciplined. This is Razor’s crew.”Jayden’s throat tightened. Razor. Even his name felt like rusted metal.The door buckled. A final slam snapped the lock.It swung open with a shriek of tortured hinges and gunfire erupted.Kade’s rifle spat controlled bursts, the muzzle flash strobing the dark. A man screamed, cut off by the wet thud of his body hitting

The silence after the battle was heavier than the smoke.Jayden pressed his hand to the wound on his ribs, fingers slick with blood. His shirt clung to his skin, torn and soaked, but he forced himself to breathe slow, steady. The laundromat was a ruin—broken dryers, shattered glass, blood splattered across the tiles. The only sound was the occasional groan from the wounded and the faint drip… drip… drip of a leaking pipe.He swallowed the copper taste in his mouth. Razor’s laugh still echoed in his head, jagged and cruel.“I’ll take it back,” Jayden whispered again, the words trembling but stubborn. His voice carried no weight against the silence, but it was all he had left.Kade leaned against the doorway, rifle limp in his hands. His usually sharp face was slack with exhaustion, jaw tight, eyes burning. Aria sat on the floor near the toppled machines, pressing fabric against the bullet graze on her arm, her breaths shallow. Hassan lay stretched out, pale as ash, clutching his stomac

The market was supposed to be silent at this hour. Stalls stood closed, tarps pulled tight, crates stacked like shadows. But now the night howled with gunfire.Muzzle flashes lit the narrow lanes like bursts of lightning. Bullets shredded through wooden stalls, sent jars of pepper and beans bursting into clouds. Lanterns toppled, oil spilling and catching flame. The smell of smoke and gunpowder filled the air, thick enough to choke.Jayden dove behind a broken cart, wood splintering under the spray of lead. His pulse hammered. His ribs screamed. His crew was pinned, outnumbered, drowning under a tide of fire.Kade crouched by the alley mouth, rifle snapping in controlled bursts. His face was stone, but Jayden saw the sweat dripping. Aria was on her knees behind an overturned basket, shotgun booming into the chaos. Hassan leaned against the wall, pale, holding his bleeding side, but still clutching a pistol with shaking hands.They were outgunned. Outnumbered. Trapped.And it was his f

Jayden’s clothes still smelled of smoke. His lungs still clawed for air, the fire’s memory scorched into his chest. Every time he shut his eyes, he saw Razor grinning in the flames, calling him boy, daring him to break.But what weighed heavier than Razor’s laughter was the silence inside his own crew.The safehouse had never felt so tense. Kade paced like a caged dog, fists balled. Aria sat against the wall, her bandaged arm across her lap, eyes cold. Hassan lay on the couch, still pale from his wound, but his gaze followed Jayden with quiet judgment.No one said it outright, but Jayden could feel it. Razor wasn’t the only threat. The streets were whispering. Someone had tipped Razor off. Someone in Jayden’s circle.And a king couldn’t afford a traitor.The truth came two nights later.Kade had dragged a boy into the room, his hair matted, lip split, wrists bound. It was Malik — one of Jayden’s younger runners. The kid barely looked eighteen. His wide eyes flicked between them, terri

The city changed overnight.Word of Jayden’s speech spread like gasoline catching a spark. By dawn, the whole underworld buzzed. Crews whispered in alleys, bookies doubled their bets, and corner hustlers muttered his name like it was poison and promise in one breath.But louder than the whispers was Razor’s answer.Razor didn’t just raise the bounty he painted it in fire. Flyers scrawled with Jayden’s name and reward money littered street corners. Bartenders spread the word for free shots to anyone who brought him proof. Dealers grinned wide, seeing a payday in his blood. Even kids in the slums joked about spotting him, their eyes sharp with hunger.Jayden’s face was no longer just a name. It was a target.The safehouse was tense.Aria sat by the table, disassembling her shotgun piece by piece, cleaning it with deliberate calm. Kade leaned against the wall, chain-smoking, his rifle across his lap. Hassan lay on the couch, half-dozing but muttering through fever dreams, his wounds not