Rise of the Street King

Chapter 48: Betrayed by Blood

The slums were quiet the next morning, too quiet.

Ash still clung to the walls, and the alleys smelled of charred flesh. Dogs dragged bones into corners. Men walked with heads low, their voices hushed as if the ghosts of the dead were still listening.

Jayden sat inside the half-burned warehouse they had claimed as a base. His machete leaned against the wall, but he hadn’t touched it since dawn. His hands were still raw from gripping it too tightly, knuckles split and swollen.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw bodies falling. Every time he opened them, he saw the faces of the ones still alive, watching him with a mix of awe and fear.

He had won, but the victory tasted like rust and ash.

Malikah entered, her arm strapped tight, her expression sharp even through exhaustion. “Scouts say Razor pulled back into the south blocks. He’s bleeding, but he’s breathing.”

Jayden’s jaw flexed. “Breathing means he’s plotting.”

Malikah hesitated before lowering her voice. “There’s more. Some of the smaller crews we thought neutral they’ve gone to him. Promises of food, protection, coin. He’s not broken yet.”

Jayden rose slowly, his shoulders heavy but his eyes burning. “Then we break him.”

That night, as the crew patched wounds and buried their dead, Jayden found Amara outside, sitting on the warehouse steps. She was staring into the smoke-filled sky, her hood down, her face catching the dim glow of the fires still smoldering in the distance.

“You fight like someone who’s done this before,” Jayden said, lowering himself beside her.

Her lips curved faintly. “Everyone in these streets has fought before.”

“Not like that,” Jayden pressed. “You move like you’ve been trained. Too clean. Too precise.”

Amara tilted her head, her dark eyes unreadable. “Does it matter, Jayden? I fought for you.”

Jayden looked at her, searching her face, but whatever truth lingered there was hidden deep. He wanted to ask more, to push, but her hand brushed his, and the question burned away in the heat that followed.

That night, in the shadows of the ruined warehouse, Jayden let himself be human for the first time in weeks. He kissed her, hard and hungry, tasting blood and ash but needing it all the same.

For a few stolen hours, he let the weight of war fall away.

But morning broke like a blade.

Jayden woke to the echo of Malikah’s voice shouting his name. He sat up, heart pounding, and found the space beside him empty. Amara was gone.

He staggered out to the yard, where Malikah waited, her face pale with fury. “She’s vanished. Took nothing. Slipped past the lookouts before dawn.”

Jayden’s blood ran cold. “What?”

“The Burned Boy saw her last,” Malikah said. “Said she was heading toward the south blocks.”

Toward Razor’s territory.

Jayden’s gut twisted. Images of her flashed in his mind the way she moved in battle, too sharp, too practiced. The way she never spoke about her past. The way her eyes sometimes lingered on him like she knew something he didn’t.

He had wanted to believe she was his. Now he wondered if she had ever been at all.

The crew was restless by midday. Whispers spread faster than fire. Some said Amara was a spy all along. Some said Razor had taken her. Some said she’d betrayed them because she’d seen Jayden’s throne was built on corpses.

Malikah cornered him in the shadows. Her tone was blunt, merciless. “She’s with Razor. You know it. Maybe she’s always been. You’re the only one who can’t see it.”

Jayden’s fists clenched until his knuckles split again. He wanted to deny it, to scream that Malikah was wrong, that Amara wouldn’t… couldn’t

But the empty space beside him in the morning said otherwise.

“She kissed me last night,” Jayden muttered, more to himself than Malikah.

Her eyes softened for a flicker, then hardened again. “And then she walked into Razor’s arms. That’s your answer.”

That evening, Jayden called the crew together. They gathered in the burned yard, faces gaunt, eyes sharp. The Burned Boy stood near the front, his scarred cheek glowing in the torchlight.

Jayden’s voice cut through the silence.

“We bled for these streets. We fought until the alleys drowned in blood. And now, some of you whisper that we’ve been betrayed. Maybe we have. Maybe she was never ours. But hear me

He raised his machete, the blade catching firelight.

we don’t fall because of one shadow. We don’t break because one heart turned. Razor thinks he’s broken us. He thinks he can take what’s ours. But I swear to you… the next time we meet, I’ll carve my name into his bones.”

The crew roared, voices raw, broken, but burning.

Jayden felt their fire rise around him, but inside, he was colder than ever.

That night, alone in the ruined warehouse, he stared into the darkness.

Every whisper of wind sounded like her voice. Every shadow felt like her shape slipping just out of reach.

Amara’s kiss still burned on his lips. But now it felt poisoned.

And Jayden knew the streets hadn’t just taken his brothers, his peace, his mercy.

They had taken his love too.

And left him with nothing but blood.