BLOOD OWNS THIS CITY

The Man in the Mirror

Viktor Volkov stared at the security footage on his tablet.

The screen showed a man in a black jacket moving through the storage facility like a shadow. Quick. Precise. Lethal. Two of Viktor's best men lay unconscious on the floor. The man had taken them down in seconds.

Viktor rewound the footage and watched again. There was something familiar about the man's movements. The economy of motion. The way he used his environment as a weapon.

No wasted energy. No hesitation.

Viktor's blood turned cold.

He'd seen that style before. Five years ago. On a battlefield in Eastern Europe. A man who moved like smoke and killed like lightning.

The Ghost.

Viktor set down the tablet. His hands were steady, but his heart was racing. The Ghost was supposed to be dead. Viktor had personally confirmed the kill. A helicopter crash. Burning wreckage. No survivors.

And yet.

He picked up his phone and dialed. The call connected after one ring.

"Leonid," Viktor said. "We have a problem."

Leonid Petrov's voice crackled through the speaker. "What kind of problem?"

"The Ghost is alive. He's in Veridian Bay. And he's been inside my storage unit."

Silence. Then: "That's impossible. We watched him burn."

"Then explain the footage." Viktor's voice was ice. "Explain how my men are in the hospital with broken bones and concussions. Explain how someone stole the Project Serpent files."

Leonid cursed in Russian. "What do you want me to do?"

"Find him. Kill him. Make it look like an accident." Viktor paused. "And contact the others. We need to meet. Tonight."

"I'll make the calls."

Viktor hung up. He walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse and stared at the city below. Veridian Bay glittered in the morning light. Beautiful. Untouchable.

He'd built this empire from nothing. He'd killed, cheated, and betrayed to get here. He wasn't about to let one ghost tear it all down.

His phone buzzed. A text message from an unknown number.

*The Ghost is hungry.*

Viktor stared at the screen. His jaw tightened.

So the Ghost wanted to play games. Fine. Viktor had been playing games longer than Marcus Webb had been alive. He'd crushed bigger men than some washed-up soldier with a death wish.

But this wasn't a game. This was war.

Viktor walked to his private study and opened a hidden safe. Inside: a pistol. A knife. And a single photograph.

His fingers traced the image. Marcus Webb. Younger. Angrier. Standing with his unit in front of a burning building. All of them smiling like they were invincible.

They weren't. Viktor had made sure of that.

But one had survived.

He put the photograph back in the safe and locked it. Then he made a second call.

"Get me the file on Marcus Webb," he said. "Everything. His childhood. His service record. Every woman he ever slept with. Every friend he ever had."

"And if he has no friends?"

Viktor smiled. It was not a pleasant expression.

"Then we find the people he cares about. And we make him watch."

He ended the call and walked back to the window. The city spread out beneath him like a chessboard. And Marcus Webb was just another piece to be removed from the board.

Viktor picked up his whiskey and took a long drink.

"I killed you once, Ghost," he murmured. "I'll kill you again. And this time, I won't make the same mistakes."

The sun rose over Veridian Bay. Viktor Volkov watched it and smiled.

His empire was about to go to war.

---

Marcus sat on the roof of Mrs. Chen's building, watching the same sun rise.

The folder was in his jacket. The evidence was secure. But he needed more. He needed names. He needed proof that his father had been involved.

He needed access to the Black Lotus.

Darnell had been gone for hours. Marcus trusted him as much as he trusted anyone—which was not at all. But Darnell had resources. Darnell had connections. And Darnell had a debt to settle with Viktor.

That was enough.

Marcus pulled out his phone. A single text message had arrived earlier. He'd read it, memorized it, and deleted it.

*Meeting tonight. 9 PM. The Iron Tower. All five will be present.*

The Iron Tower. Viktor's secondary headquarters in the Iron District. Marcus had seen the building from a distance—a squat, ugly structure that screamed power without elegance.

Five men. The names on the list. Viktor. Leonid. Three others Marcus hadn't identified yet.

His father was likely one of them. Maybe even the leader.

Marcus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His body was screaming. His leg was useless. He hadn't slept in days.

But tonight, he would watch them. Study them. Learn their patterns.

And then he'd start dismantling their empire, piece by piece.

The Ghost was hungry.

And tonight, he would feast.

*Should Marcus attend the meeting at the Iron Tower tonight or wait for more information?*