The phone was still vibrating in the operative’s gloved hand. For a second, he just stared at the glowing screen. Three bodies were sprawled out next to the Escalade, perfectly still. The only one left was the driver, kneeling on the pavement and clutching his mangled wrist, blood dripping steadily between his fingers.The operative finally put the phone to his ear.A voice came through instantly— cold and flat. “Don’t move. We have your location pinned. Step forward slowly and keep your hands where we can see them.”The driver froze, his eyes bulging. "Who— who’s that calling?" he stammered, his face turning pale.The operative listened for one more heartbeat, his expression going hard under his visor. "...Nonsense," he muttered, and he ended the call with a quick flick of his thumb.He didn't hesitate. He shoved the phone into a side pocket of his vest. It was evidence, tracking data, and maybe a number he’d want to dig into later. The driver watched him, shaking like a leaf. "Wha

The convoy didn’t take the main road to the estate. Instead, the G Wagons switched lanes onto a private route hidden behind a thick wall of black pines. The road dipped gradually, disappearing into a tunnel carved directly into the hillside, like an entrance to a fortress that wasn't on any map.From the outside, the Griffin estate looked like a massive, peaceful residence sitting on thousands of acres. But inside, it was the nerve center of an empire. The Griffins didn't just own property, they controlled banks, energy grids, and private security networks that stretched across continents. When the Griffin name came up in a boardroom, governments listened and remained quiet.The G Wagons came to a stop in a reinforced underground bay built into the mountain's foundation. As the heavy security lights hummed to life, armed guards stepped forward. One looked into the lead vehicle, saw the formation, and immediately stood at attention.“The Young Master has returned,” he announced.Marc

Marcus walked out of his grandfather’s room, the heavy gold doors clicking shut behind him. Even as he walked away, he could still feel the weight of that conversation sitting in the back of his mind.Leo, the estate’s head butler, was waiting right there in the hallway. Leo had been with the family for over thirty years, and he looked exactly the same as he always did— perfect suit, silver hair combed back, and that calm, professional face that never seemed bothered.Marcus gave him a small nod. "Thanks for taking me to see him, Leo."Leo bowed his head just a bit. "It is always an honor, Young Master."Marcus looked at the older man for a second. Leo had seen the Griffin family go through everything, but he always carried himself with this quiet dignity."If you need anything else tonight," Leo added politely, "the staff is ready to help.""I'll keep that in mind," Marcus said. He turned and headed straight for the private elevators.The basement levels were a lot quieter than the r

The doors of The Iron Ace casino opened quietly, and Zane stepped inside.The casino was lively. Music boomed through the room, chips clattered across poker tables, and the sound of laughter and shouting mixed with the flashing lights of slot machines. Nobody noticed him. Not yet.Zane moved forward slowly, his heavy boots echoing faintly against the polished floor. Behind him, several Griffin operatives spread out casually, blending into the crowd. Zane’s eyes scanned everything— every hallway, every staircase, every guard. He walked like a man who had already memorized the building. Then he saw the staircase: a black iron railing curving upward toward the VIP level. Without hesitation, Zane started climbing.The VIP area overlooked the entire casino floor. It had private tables, private drinks, and sitting comfortably at the center of it all was Adrian Van Cleef. The gambling king lounged in a velvet chair, a glass of whiskey in one hand while two beautiful women sat on either sid

Adrian Van Cleef was a mess. His hands were bolted to the steel table, his face was covered with stitches and purple bruises, but his eyes were wide and sparkling with a weird, crazy look. The room smelled like a hospital mixed with old blood and the lingering scent of Zane’s cigar. The commanders and the operatives just stood back in the shadows, watching the man who used to run the city’s underground sitting there at their mercy.Then, Adrian started to laugh. It began as a low, wet rattle in his chest and turned into a full blown, shaking display of maniacal laughter that echoed off the cold walls.Jay stepped into the light, his hands tucked behind his back. He didn't look angry, he looked bored. "What’s so funny, Adrian?"Adrian didn't stop. He leaned against his restraints like they weren't even there. "Funny? You guys... you have no idea who you're messing with," he said, his voice thick with blood. "You think you can scare me with this? You think a big guy like Zane is enough