2025-02-18 19:13:01The engine hums under my hands as I drive through the city, weaving between cars, pushing the SUV harder than I should. My knuckles grip the wheel tight, blood from the earlier fight drying on my skin.
I don’t know where I’m going—just away. The neon lights blur past, their colors reflecting off the windshield. My heart is still racing, adrenaline refusing to fade. My body aches, bruises forming under my clothes, but none of that matters right now. I reach into my pocket, fingers brushing against a crumpled note. I already know what it says, but I pull it out anyway. Elias Graves. The name feels heavy, like a weight pressing down on me. The second I read it, pain explodes in my head. A sharp, blinding ache cuts through my skull. Images flash—fast, chaotic. A man’s voice, rough and urgent. A promise, broken. Gunfire. I jerk the wheel, barely missing a parked car. My breath is ragged. The name means something. The flashes fade, leaving a dull throb in my head and a cold unease in my gut. I don’t know this man, but my instincts scream that he has answers. I just don’t know if I want them. I grip the wheel tighter and press down on the gas. The Oath won’t stop hunting me. And right now, Elias Graves is the only lead I have. I need to find him before they do. The thought lingers, heavy in my mind, as I navigate the streets. I turn onto a quiet road, scanning for a place to ditch the SUV. It’s hot now—probably tagged. I need to keep moving, stay ahead, stay hidden. Then—I see it. A flicker of movement in the rearview mirror. Shit. A black sedan. Two cars back. Tinted windows. Driving too smoothly, too carefully. They aren’t just passing through. I test them, turning down an unnecessary side street. They follow. Another turn. Still there. I curse under my breath. No time for subtlety. I yank the wheel hard, swerving across lanes and flooring it down a narrow alley. Tires screech behind me as they struggle to keep up. My heart pounds as I take a sharp turn, nearly hitting a dumpster. The SUV is too big for this kind of chase, but I push it to the limit. Then—a gunshot. The back window shatters. They aren’t waiting anymore. I duck, gripping the wheel, swerving onto the next open road. I have to lose them. Now. Up ahead—a red light. Cross traffic. No time to stop. I grip the wheel, brace myself, and plow through the intersection. Horns blare. Tires skid. I don’t look back. If I hesitate, I’m dead. The sedan tries to follow, but a delivery truck cuts them off, screeching to a stop inches from their bumper. They’re trapped. For now. I don’t waste the opportunity. Three more quick turns and I’m gone, slipping into an underground parking garage. I cut the engine. Silence. I sit still, forcing my breath to slow. My pulse is a war drum. They found me too fast. Again. I press my fingers to my temples, trying to fight the pounding headache. My mind feels like it’s unraveling. Like memories are just out of reach, slipping through my fingers like smoke. Elias Graves. Who the hell is he? And why do I feel like finding him will change everything?
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CHAPTER 220
The Last ThoughtI stare at my reflection, my breath uneven, my eyes hollow. The glass is cracked—thin fractures running like veins across the surface, distorting my face. Fitting.The overhead light flickers, casting brief shadows across the room. It’s cold. Not the kind of cold that bites at your skin, but the kind that settles in your bones, that tells you something is coming. The kind that makes you wonder if it’s always been there, waiting.I press my palms against the sink, fingers curling against the porcelain. The weight in my chest isn’t fear. It isn’t regret. It’s something worse. A question with no answer.Behind me, the door creaks open. A slow, deliberate sound. My hand moves instinctively to my gun, but I already know who it is."That the last time you’re gonna check yourself out, Nathan?" a voice teases, rough with amusement.I smirk, though it feels foreign on my face. "Figured I should see what’s left of me before I walk out that door."Jackson leans against the doorf
CHAPTER 219
The End of the LineThe city is quiet. Too quiet.Not the kind of quiet that comes with peace, but the kind that signals something is about to break. It settles over the skyline, heavy, waiting. The streets are empty, but the ghosts of what I’ve built, of what I’ve destroyed, linger in the alleyways and shadowed corners.I stand at the edge of it all, watching from the rooftop of an old high-rise, the cold wind whipping against my face. Below me, the pieces are moving, each player stepping into position, some thinking they’re the ones holding the strings. They aren’t.They never were.Jackson shifts beside me, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He’s restless. Always is before things go south.“You sure about this?” he asks.I don’t answer right away. Because there’s no easy answer. No right one, either.He sighs, shaking his head. “You always do this. Get in too deep and think you can control every variable. But this—” he gestures to the streets below, to the quiet before the storm
CHAPTER 218
The Final MoveThe city is waiting.It doesn't know it yet, but the tides are shifting. Power doesn’t disappear; it transforms and morphs into something new, something unrecognizable until it’s already taken hold. I’ve seen it happen too many times to count. This time, I’m the one pulling the strings.This time, it ends on my terms.I stand in the shadows of an empty warehouse, the scent of oil and dust thick in the air. The city hums outside, its lights flickering through the gaps in the rusted metal walls. Jackson stands beside me, his body tense, arms crossed. He’s waiting for me to explain, to tell him what comes next.I let the silence stretch before I finally speak.“We’re not burning it down.”Jackson’s head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing. “What?”I meet his stare, my voice steady. “We’re not wiping the board clean. We’re flipping it.”For the first time in a long time, Jackson looks unsure. He shifts his weight, jaw tightening as he processes my words. “You said yourself—this
CHAPTER 217
The Final CrossroadsThe city hums beneath me, restless and alive. From this rooftop, I see everything—the neon glow stretching into the horizon, the winding streets below, the fractured heartbeat of a place that never stops moving. A world of light and shadow, built on secrets, power, and debts that can never truly be repaid.The air is thick with the scent of rain and asphalt, the faintest trace of gasoline lingering in the wind. It’s the smell of something on the verge of combustion, of a city always teetering on the edge of chaos. I tighten my grip on the cigarette between my fingers, watching the ember glow in the dark, a tiny heartbeat against the cold night. I don’t smoke. Not really. I just like the way it feels—holding something that’s burning, something that’s alive for just a little while before it fades into nothing.I should walk away.I should let it all burn.But I don’t.Because no matter how much I tell myself that I don’t care anymore, that none of it matters, the tr
CHAPTER 216
The Last Time He Sees RileyThe air is colder than I expected. Maybe that’s fitting. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.She’s already there when I arrive, standing near the edge of the pier, arms folded tight against the wind. The city sprawls behind her, all light and noise, but out here, it’s just the quiet lapping of the water and the space between us.Riley doesn’t turn when I approach.“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says, her voice carrying over the water, calm but unreadable.I stop a few feet away. Close enough to feel the weight of her presence. Far enough to know I shouldn’t get any closer.“Neither was I,” I admit.She exhales a slow, steady breath. “You look the same.”“So do you.”A lie.There’s something different in her now. Something more guarded, more distant. Like she’s finally built the walls she should’ve had when we were younger.Like she’s learned.She turns, finally meeting my gaze, and for a moment, it’s just us. No past, no future. Just this one sliver of t
CHAPTER 215
The Fall of KingsThe thing about power is that it never learns.It moves through different hands, dresses itself in new suits, and speaks in fresh voices. But underneath, it’s always the same: greed, arrogance, and the inevitable mistake of thinking you can control what was never meant to be tamed.Ronan believed he could do it differently.I watch from the shadows as he proves himself wrong.---The city is quieter these days. Not because the storm has passed, but because it’s waiting to break.I see it in the way people move, the way deals are whispered instead of spoken. Ronan’s reign is still fresh, but already, the cracks are showing.And he doesn’t even realize it.Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s just too proud to admit it.I’m standing outside a high-rise downtown, watching from across the street. Up there, behind floor-to-ceiling windows, Ronan is playing king. A meeting’s in progress—his men, his allies, his problems.He thinks he has time. He thinks he’s in control.He doesn’t
