Red’s motorcycle screeched to a halt the moment the old industrial road narrowed to a dead end—an abandoned loading yard boxed in by rusted shipping containers. The tall metal walls loomed like silent giants, offering nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.Carl jumped off the bike, pulling Jasmine with him just as Jade’s wheels skidded beside them.Jade swore under her breath. “Boss… this is bad. Really bad.”Red looked back the way they came, eyes widening.“Uh—Boss? We’ve got company.”Headlights flared one by one in the distance.Then another set.Then another.Engines rumbled—slow, predatory, confident. Like wolves finding their prey.Carl stepped forward, body shielding Jasmine as shadows moved along the edges of the containers. Men armed with rifles began closing in from both sides of the narrow passage.The Fox Gang didn’t come in small numbers.Tonight, they brought the whole pack.Jasmine’s hand trembled as she gripped the back of Carl’s jacket.“Carl… they’re surrounding us.”“I

Carl’s eyes scanned the alley, calculating every angle. Harold’s men were still disoriented from the toppled crates, a perfect opening. He crouched low behind a dumpster, whispering to Jade.“Follow my lead. We’re not just running—we’re setting a trap.”Jade nodded, breathing hard, gripping his gun. Jasmine looked at Carl with wide, terrified eyes. “What… what kind of trap?”Carl smirked. “The kind that makes them regret underestimating us.”He sprinted forward, making sure to stay just within the line of fire, drawing the gang’s attention. “Hey! Over here!” he shouted, firing two deliberate shots into the wall to exaggerate the chaos.Harold’s eyes narrowed. “Bold move, Donovan. Too bold.”The gang charged, taking the bait. Carl led them toward a narrow intersection where the alley forked. He slid to the side, pressing a button on his belt-mounted gadget—a compact flashbang launcher he had prepared earlier.“Brace yourself!” he yelled. The device hit the ground with a sharp clink. Se

The Carson kitchen was a battlefield of clinking pans, rushing staff, and frantic energy. Sophia had ordered everyone to prepare an extravagant breakfast at dawn, and the entire household had been in a frenzy ever since. She even hired Velmora’s top chef—someone usually seen in five-star hotels instead of private mansions—to cook for them this morning. This was the sight that greeted Celeste Carson the moment she stepped inside after returning from her early morning routine. “What is going on? And why does it look like you’re all preparing for a fiesta?” Celeste asked sharply. One of the maids froze, bowed quickly, and said, “Good morning, Mrs. Carson. Ms. Sophia asked us to prepare for breakfast.” Celeste frowned. “I know that. But do we have guests?” “Ms. Sophia’s bodyguard and business partner are here, Madam.” Celeste nodded slowly, though inside, her temper spiked. She put together an entire spread like this… for a bodyguard? My daughter has completely lost her mind. I wil

Carl stayed quiet as he drove out of the Carson estate. The road ahead was empty, but somehow the silence felt heavier than the night sky pressing over them. And the longer they stayed in that small enclosed space, the more Jasmine felt her nerves crawling under her skin. Carl hadn’t even bothered to explain anything. Not why Sophia acted like she owned him. Not why the Carson household treated him like someone… special. Not why Celeste practically interrogated him like a future son-in-law. Nothing. As usual. “Ahm…” Jasmine cleared her throat, trying not to sound awkward. “I… I haven’t thanked you yet.” Carl’s brows slightly shot up, surprised she brought it up now. “Ah… it’s okay.” “You saved me twice already,” she added, her voice softer. “Well, I’d do it over and over again if I had to,” Carl said—casually, sincerely, and completely unaware of how those words echoed differently in the cramped car. Jasmine’s breath hitched. A little. Then she forced a smile and looked aw

Inside his office, Marion Brown sat restlessly, his leg bouncing like it was trying to escape from his body. He couldn't stop imagining every disastrous scenario waiting to swallow him whole.A few seconds later, the door opened and his secretary stepped inside.“Mayor, there are men outside. They want to see you. Should I let them in?” she asked carefully.“Who are they?”The secretary’s brows knitted. “They didn’t say. They only mentioned that you know them.”Marion shot up from his seat so fast he almost flipped the table. He slammed both palms on the surface.“Then don’t let them in!” he barked. “Are you stupid?!”The secretary flinched, eyes brimming with tears. She nodded, ready to leave—when the door swung open again.A man entered, wearing a formal suit under a long black coat, a dark fedora casting a shadow across his face. Behind him followed two broad-shouldered men who looked like they could snap metal pipes with their bare hands.“You—”Marion froze. His mouth hung open,