King of the Underground

The First to Bleed

Chapter 10: The First to Bleed

The night Cape Heights caught fire again, it started with a name.

Cassian Voss.

The last of Kade’s top allies, a crooked businessman who ran the city’s black-market weapons ring from behind a chain of luxury car dealerships. Slick hair, smooth tongue, and a penchant for playing both sides. He was untouchable for years—until tonight.

Jaxon stood across from the auto showroom, hidden on the roof of a pawn shop, cold wind biting his face. Through his scope, he watched Voss laugh with two clients inside, the glass walls giving him a perfect view.

“He doesn’t even know he’s already dead,” Cain muttered beside him, crouched low with his AR-15 primed.

“Let him laugh,” Jaxon said. “He’ll choke on it soon enough.”

Inside a van parked below, Miko waited with Vera’s tech crew, jamming signals and monitoring heat signatures. Their job was to trigger a blackout at the right moment.

Lyra was at a nearby rooftop—eyes on the rear exit, pistol steady, nerves sharper than ever.

This was it.

The first major strike in Jaxon’s war. No more smoke. No more shadows.

He pressed his earpiece.

“Everyone in position?”

“All good,” Miko whispered. “As soon as you say the word.”

“Vera’s crew is ready too,” Cain added. “Five seconds to blackout.”

Jaxon exhaled slowly.

“Lights out.”

The entire block went dark in an instant.

Glass shattered as Cain dropped through the showroom’s skylight, landing like thunder between stunned guards. Miko cut the alarms. Lyra moved like a phantom toward the back door.

Jaxon was already sprinting down the fire escape.

Inside the showroom, chaos bloomed.

Cassian Voss tried to run—Jaxon tackled him to the marble floor and pressed a pistol against his skull.

“You don’t get to run,” he growled. “Not tonight.”

Voss gasped, his expensive suit torn, hair wet with sweat. “I can help you! I can give you Kade!”

“Good,” Jaxon said, cocking the hammer. “Start talking.”

“I—I helped him move shipments. I know the routes. The safe houses—he has a bunker in Avalon Park. Under the old train station—”

Jaxon’s earpiece crackled.

Miko: “Jax—heat signatures incoming. Too many. It’s an ambush.”

He froze.

Cain was already dragging one of the wounded guards behind a desk for cover. “They knew we were coming.”

Voss laughed through bloodied lips. “You really thought he wouldn’t see you coming?”

Jaxon’s jaw tightened. “You set us up.”

But it was too late.

Gunfire erupted outside. Vera’s crew shouted over comms. One voice went silent mid-transmission.

Jaxon grabbed Voss by the collar. “Who sold us out?!”

Voss grinned. “Does it matter? You’ll all be dead by sunrise.”

The next minutes were hell.

Bullets tore through the showroom’s glass walls. Cain fired back, dropping two men in the parking lot. Lyra kicked open the rear door and joined the fight, her pistol barked fire into the darkness.

Jaxon moved through the chaos like a storm—dragging Miko out of the van as it took a hit, glass spraying across her arms. They dove behind cover, hearts pounding.

“We need out!” she shouted. “They’re swarming the perimeter!”

“We hold the north alley!” Jaxon roared. “Cain, you’re with me!”

But Cain didn’t respond.

He was slumped against the wall, a bloom of red spreading across his chest.

Jaxon ran to him, heart stalling in his throat.

“No. No, no, no—” he pressed his hand against the wound, eyes wild. “Cain, stay with me!”

Cain coughed, blood bubbling on his lips. “Told you… this was a bad plan…”

“You’re not dying here,” Jaxon said. “You hear me? You’re not—”

Cain gripped his wrist.

“It’s okay,” he said, weaker now. “You finish this. Make it count.”

Jaxon swallowed, eyes burning.

Then Cain went still.

Lyra fired one last round before ducking behind a pillar. “Jax—we’ve got to go! Now!”

Jaxon looked at Cain’s lifeless body.

Then he looked at Voss—who was trying to crawl away.

Without a word, Jaxon walked over and shot him in the head.

They fled through the alley, smoke and bullets behind them, firelight licking the sky as the dealership exploded. Miko staggered with a wounded leg. Lyra dragged her across a fence while Jaxon covered their exit.

The getaway car was waiting—an old black Charger with reinforced windows. They piled in, Jaxon silent behind the wheel as he drove them into the night.

An hour later, they were back at the safehouse.

Miko was on the couch, her leg stitched up. Lyra sat in silence, the blood on her face crusting beneath her jaw.

Jaxon stood at the sink, hands shaking.

Cain was gone.

The first to bleed.

The first of many, maybe.

He slammed his fist against the metal counter, the sound echoing through the room.

Lyra approached him carefully. “You did everything you could.”

“No,” Jaxon said. “I brought him into this. I led him into a trap.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should’ve. I always know.”

He stared at his reflection in the cracked window.

He didn’t see a hero.

He saw a man who dragged his people into hell and left one of them behind.

Later that night, Jaxon lit a candle and placed it beside Cain’s dog tags on the table.

The city outside never stopped moving.

But inside, the war changed.

Because now it wasn’t just about vengeance or reclaiming the throne.

Now it was about honoring the dead.

Jaxon stared into the flame, his voice a whisper:

“You were the first to bleed, brother. But not the last.”

He blew out the candle.

The war had only begun.