Cole didn’t sleep that night.The city outside his apartment was quiet, washed in pale moonlight, yet his thoughts were loud — tangled shadows circling each other in his mind. Uzumaki was moving. Trojan and Blake had chosen a side. And Fiona… the way she left replayed in his head like an echo he couldn’t silence.It felt as though every part of his world had shifted just slightly out of place.But Cole had learned something in prison — silence was never empty. It carried intent.And tonight, silence felt dangerous.He stood by the window, hands in his pockets, watching headlights drift like ghosts through the streets below. Somewhere out there, Uzumaki was setting pieces on the board — and Cole knew one thing for certain:Whatever was coming… it had already begun.He exhaled slowly.“I was too trusting,” he murmured to himself. “Not anymore.”Just then, the vibration of his phone broke the stillness.A message.From Reed.We need to talk. Now.Cole grabbed his jacket and headed out.⸻

The name on the file refused to leave Cole’s mind.He stared at it again, then slowly closed the folder and leaned back in the chair. The room was quiet except for the hum of the single lamp above the table. Whoever this person was, they weren’t just a shadow from Uzumaki’s past — they were a thread that tied everything together.And threads, when pulled carefully, unraveled entire systems.Cole rubbed his face slowly, exhaustion pressing behind his eyes. Prison had taught him endurance, but this kind of war demanded patience on another level. Uzumaki wasn’t reckless. Trojan and Blake weren’t impulsive. They were all moving like chess players who believed they were several moves ahead.Cole stood up and walked to the window.The city glowed beneath him — unaware, indifferent, alive. Somewhere out there, Fiona was trying to find herself again. Somewhere else, Uzumaki was tightening his grip. And somewhere in between, Trojan and Blake were convincing themselves they had chosen the winni

The rain stopped sometime before morning, leaving the city slick and reflective, like it was holding onto every secret whispered the night before. Cole woke to a quiet that felt wrong. Too clean. Too deliberate.He sat up slowly, listening.No sirens.No phones buzzing.No messages waiting.That was when he knew something had shifted.Cole moved through the apartment with care, the way prison had taught him to—checking corners, windows, exits. Everything was where it should be. And yet, the sense of being watched clung to him like a shadow that refused to separate.He poured himself coffee he didn’t want and stared out at the street.Uzumaki isn’t reacting, he thought. He’s repositioning.That was worse.⸻A Crack in the AllianceAcross the city, Trojan sat alone in his office, staring at the city skyline through reinforced glass. Blake stood near the door, restless, fingers tapping against his phone.“This silence is killing me,” Blake said. “He hasn’t called since last night.”Troja

The news spread quietly.Not through headlines or sirens, but through the absence Blake left behind. Phones that rang unanswered. Accounts that went dormant overnight. Men who suddenly avoided eye contact when Trojan’s name came up.Blake Morgan had been erased.And everyone who mattered knew exactly who had done it.Trojan’s ReckoningTrojan sat alone in his office long after midnight, the city lights reflecting off the glass like fractured stars. Blake’s empty chair across from him felt heavier than if a body were sitting there.He replayed the last conversation again and again.You were replaceable.Uzumaki’s words echoed in his head, calm and surgical.Trojan poured himself a drink but didn’t touch it. His hand trembled slightly as he set the glass down.“So this is what you do to allies,” he muttered to the empty room.His phone buzzed. A single message.U: We move forward. Together.Trojan stared at the screen, jaw clenched.He typed, deleted, then typed again.Trojan: Understoo

The city didn’t sleep, but it watched.After Blake’s death and Trojan’s quiet disappearance from Uzumaki’s immediate circle, something subtle changed. Guards doubled. Routes shifted. Meetings moved without notice. Uzumaki’s empire was still standing, but it had begun to breathe differently—shorter breaths, sharper reactions.Cole noticed all of it.He sat with Eden, Shane, and Mendes in the warehouse, the air thick with cigarette smoke and quiet focus. No one spoke for a long moment. They were past speeches now.“Trojan sent another drop,” Mendes said, sliding a flash drive across the table. “Financial routes. Names. Dates.”Cole picked it up but didn’t plug it in yet. “He’s committing,” he said. “That means Uzumaki is already testing him.”Shane frowned. “Then Trojan won’t last.”“He doesn’t need to,” Cole replied. “He just needs to last long enough.”Eden shifted. “And Fiona?”Cole’s hand paused.“She’s closer to Uzumaki than any of us,” Cole said quietly. “Whether she wants to be o