THE DON’S HOUSEThe club pulsed with rhythm like a living beast, the base from the music within rolling through the air like thunder. The walls and floor vibrated with every drop as colored lights flashed across the room in shades of bright, casting shifting shadows over the tightly packed bodies gyrating at the center. Girls danced on the elevated platforms scattered across the room, their sweaty bodies glistening as they swung around the polls. Some barely wore anything, thin ribbons of fabric the only thing keeping the world from viewing everything. Others had already tossed away whatever clothing they'd walked into the building with, their breasts jiggling as they danced to the music. Stacks of money dotted the place. They occupied tables, were scattered across the floor and clutched between manicured fingers wrapped tightly around the necks of men drinking and cheering. At the center of the entire chaos sat Don Rafael Moreno. His heavy frame occupied the velvet couch that loo

A MAN WHO DOESN’T STAY DOWN 1A steady, slow rhythmic beeping–that was the first thing Ryan heard from the void he's been plunged into. BEEP!BEEP!BEEP! They all sounded distant at first, like a foggy memory he just couldn't quite grasp. But the quiet echo gradually became clearer and louder, acting as an anchor his mind used to claw its way back to the surface. Ryan groaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. He tried to move his body as his consciousness returned. But the moment his fingers moved, a wave of pain crashed over his entire body. It wasn't sharp like before–not like the violent, quick shots that tore through him during the fight–but a deep, burning agony that seemed to seep past his flesh and enter his bones. His chest felt like it was wrapped with steel bands, making it hard for him to breath. And his legs throbbed like they had been stuffed with molten metal. He tried to speak, but the mere thought of it made his ribs scream. Laying perfectly still, he finally op

SHADOWS IN MOTIONThe room was dark and quiet. The silence that filled it wasn't one that came from emptiness, but one that lingered after too many thoughts had been left unsaid. The unspoken tension rose in the air, thickening. Soft amber light from the bedside lamp pooled across the floors of the bedroom, casting long shadows over the walls of Elara's penthouse. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sun had begun to set, letting the city glow with evening lights. Traffic could be seen crawling the distant streets below and neon signs of the restaurants around flickered awake, one by one. Damien’s breath left him in a soft exhale and he turned on his back, staring at the chandelier hung above him. Beside him lay Elara, her head rested against his bare chest. She draped one arm loosely across his torso as she breathed calmly, steadily. He knew she wasn't asleep. Neither of them were sleeping… and neither had spoken for several minutes now. The silence kept on stretching, u

THE MAN ON THE BEDThe elevator doors slid open with a soft chime that resonated through the hallway. Elara took in a deep breath, clutching her purse as she stepped out. The polished marble floor reflected the warm golden lighting from the chandeliers lining the ceiling. The corridor was silent, left for the gentle clicks of her heels against the floor. Her sleeves ran down her arm and she folded it up in two as she walked. She had changed before coming, wearing a simple black evening dress that hugged her frame at the right places. She did her hair too–loose waves over her shoulders. She had even taken her time to redo her makeup before leaving the penthouse. Damien was the one that had called for her. His voice over the phone had sounded brief, but urgent. “Come over," was all that he had told her. No explanation–no nothing. But there was something about his tone that made her think maybe–just maybe–he was trying to make up for last night. She hoped it was dinner. A dinner a

A TOAST TO THE DEADJust hours ago, Damien had been knee-deep in stitching Ryan's wounds shut and bandaging the bullet holes, but now, he was standing in the midst of wealth and power. The transition felt almost… obscene. Crystal chandeliers glistened like starlight overhead, raining its soft golden light over the cast ballroom below. Chuckles and cheers swept through the place as waiters in pressed uniforms weaved through the crowd, carrying trays of champagne. Damien, dressed in a velvet suit, stood where the calm chaos was felt the least, at the edge of the hall. He held a glass of untouched whiskey l as his stoic gaze scanned the room. Elara stood arms locked by his side. She has changed again, wearing a deep emerald gown that clung elegantly to her frame. Her hair had been styled quickly but perfectly and her presence was commanding without trying too hard. Damien had suggested coming to the banquet held by the city's minister of finance, claiming it was needed to clear thei