Viktor was training while Damon watched him. The man was pushing himself harder than ever. His body was bruised. His knuckles were raw. His eyes were hardened. But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.Mia was safe. She was staying with Rachel and Tommy. She was eating. Sleeping. Healing. But she was still scared. Still haunted.Viktor had to win. There was no other option.Damon walked to the ring. Viktor was hitting the heavy bag. Thud. Thud. Thud."Take a break," Damon said.Viktor didn't stop. "I can't.""You need to save your strength.""I need to be ready."Damon stepped in front of the bag. Viktor stopped. His chest heaved. His eyes were desperate."The tournament is tomorrow," Viktor said. "If I lose, Mia dies.""Then you don't lose.""How? The fight is rigged.""Then we unrig it."Damon called the team together.Tommy. Rachel. Cruz. Marcus. Elena. They gathered in the center of the gym. The mood was heavy. The stakes were high."The tournament is tomorrow," Damon said. "Viktor is go

Damon woke to the sound of birds.The sun was streaming through the windows of his apartment. The light was warm. Golden. Peaceful. For a moment, he forgot where he was. Forgot what had happened. Forgot the cage. The fight. Anthony.Then the pain hit.His ribs screamed with every breath. His knuckles throbbed beneath the bandages. His head pounded with a dull, relentless ache. His body was a map of bruises and cuts and broken bones. Every muscle protested. Every joint ached the same. He felt like he had been run over by a truck and then dragged through the streets.He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The cracks in the plaster looked like roads on a map. Roads that led nowhere. Roads that led everywhere. He traced them with his eyes, trying to distract himself from the pain.He was alive. He had won. But the victory felt hollow.Anthony was still out there. Seraphine was still out there. The Morettis were still out there. The war wasn't over. It was just the beginning. He had won a

At the center of the gym, Damon stood staring at the map on the wall.The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor. The gym was quiet. The kids were gone. The trainers had left. It was just him and the silence.His phone buzzed. Unknown number."Vincent is dead. He was asking too many questions. You're welcome. — A.D."Damon read the message again. His blood ran cold. Someone was cleaning up loose ends. Someone was trying to protect themselves.But who?He called Cruz. "The fixer is dead. Someone killed him before we could find him."Cruz's voice was sharp. "Who?""I don't know. But whoever it is, they're ahead of us. They're always ahead of us."Cruz was quiet for a moment. "I have a contact. Someone who might know more about the Morettis. He's been underground for years. He knows things.""Where can I find him?""I'll send you the address. But Damon, be careful. This contact isn't like the others. He's dangerous.""I don't care if he's dangerou

Still at the Blackwood Estate ~The woman was calm. Composed. Her cold eyes studied him like he was a puzzle she was trying to solve. The room was silent except for the crackling fire in the fireplace."So," Damon said. "You really are a Draven."Victoria nodded. "My mother was Alistair Draven's sister. She married into the Blackwood family. She was the only one in the family who wasn't corrupt. The only one who tried to do the right thing.""And they killed her for it?"Victoria's eyes flickered. "They killed both my parents. The Morettis arranged it. They wanted the Blackwood empire. They wanted control of the city's underworld. My parents were in the way."Damon was quiet for a moment. "And you've been waiting for revenge ever since.""I've been waiting for someone who could help me take them down." Victoria leaned forward. "I've been watching you, Mr. Corso. I know what you did to the Dravens. I know what you did to the Morettis. I know you have the strength, the will, and the det

The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor. The team sat in a circle, their faces tired, their eyes hollow. The warehouse was gone. The Morettis' operation was crippled. But the victory felt hollow.Damon sat in the corner, staring at his hands. His knuckles were raw. His ribs screamed. His body ached. But his mind was racing.Vincent Moretti was in their custody. They had captured him during the raid. He was bound and gagged in the back room, guarded by Marcus and Elena.But Anthony was still out there. He had escaped again. He was wounded. He was alone. But he was still out there. Still watching. Still waiting.Damon stood up. Walked to the back room. The door was heavy. He pushed it open.Vincent Moretti sat in a chair. His hands were bound behind his back. His face was bruised. His eyes were defiant."Mr. Corso," Vincent said. "I was wondering when you'd come."Damon sat across from him. "You know why you're here."Vincent smiled. A cold, e