2025-11-18 14:32:35
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 10 - Diego’s Vow
The rain eased at last, but the streets of the south side still glistened with the memory of it - puddles in cracked concrete, oil swirling like bruised rainbows. The smell of smoke lingered in the corners, faint but stubborn, as though the city itself refused to forget what had burned.Diego Flinch walked alone through the old alley near the canal, his hands deep in the pockets of a worn leather jacket that used to belong to Harold. The collar was frayed, the smell faintly of ash and iron. Every step echoed against the wet pavement.He stopped beneath the overpass, where their old tag - Los Reyes del Barrio - still stained the concrete in faded red paint. Someone had drawn a crown over it since. Maybe Luis. Maybe some kid who didn’t even know the story behind the name.Diego stared at it for a long time, jaw tight.“You’d hate this, Harold,” he said quietly. “You’d say the crown’s a target.”The city murmured in response - the sound of passing trains, distant laughter, the hiss of ra
Chapter 9 - The Vanishing
The rain hadn’t stopped for three days. It fell in heavy, gray sheets, turning the back alleys into streams of mud and oil. The city felt quieter now, as though the fire had burned not just a warehouse, but a piece of its own heart.At the edge of Saint Rose Cemetery, under a crooked tree that dripped water like tears, Diego Flinch stood in a soaked black coat, staring at a small wooden box half-buried in the mud. The coffin was too small for truth. It was empty - everyone there knew it.Only four people stood with him: Luis, Cruz, an old priest whose eyes were too tired to ask questions, and Salgado’s replacement from the port, a man named Ramos who smoked through the service. The priest’s voice trembled through the downpour.“From dust we came, and to dust we shall return…”Diego wasn’t listening. His thoughts wandered back to the warehouse, to the blast, to Harold’s voice shouting Go! right before the light swallowed everything. He hadn’t seen any body. He hadn’t found a trace. But
Chapter 8 – The Betrayal
The night smelled of rain and gasoline — thick, uneasy air that clung to the skin like sweat before a storm. Harold stood by the riverfront warehouse, checking his watch beneath the flicker of a dying streetlight. Diego paced behind him, lighting a cigarette he didn’t really want.“Something feels off,” Harold murmured.Diego blew out smoke and tried to sound confident. “You always say that before a job.”“This isn’t a job,” Harold said. “It’s a deal.”Their mentor, Salgado — an old, scary enforcer from the port district — had arranged a meeting with a supplier from across the water. It was supposed to be the crew’s first real entrance into the big leagues, the kind of trade that could transform Los Reyes del Barrio from a local name into a citywide power. But the details changed too quickly. The place, the time, the people. Harold’s instincts twisted with unease.Still, Diego was set on it. He wanted respect, and Salgado promised it.The others waited inside the warehouse — Luis, Cru
Chapter 7 – Rise of the Boy Kings
The city was never quiet, not even at night. It breathed through the cracks of every broken streetlight and hummed under the sound of sirens far away. For Harold and Diego Flinch, that hum became the rhythm of survival.It began small — a series of daring robberies, no one expected from two teenagers. They didn’t hit banks or armored trucks. They hit the people who thought no one would dare — dealers too greedy to share, corrupt cops who skimmed extra from their own, low-level gangsters drunk enough to brag about their cash.Harold planned every move with surgical precision. Diego executed them with fire. Together, they created something the streets hadn’t seen before: discipline.--------One humid night, Diego crouched behind a stack of crates near the old freight yard, his breath fogging in the moonlight. Across from him, Harold knelt with a map spread over a crate, tracing lines with the tip of a pocketknife.“Three guards,” Harold said quietly. “Two by the gate, one in the office
Chapter 6 – Harold’s Notebook
The rain had stopped three nights ago, but the streets still smelled of rust and wet stone. The kind of smell that lingered like memory. Harold walked alone under a thin gray dawn, his hands tucked deep in his coat pockets, his eyes scanning the corners where no one else bothered to look.He moved quietly, as if the city might wake up and ask him what he was doing out so early. He wasn’t heading anywhere, at least that’s what it looked like—but his steps always led him to the same place: the old municipal library at the edge of the industrial district.The building was a ruin of its former self. Windows shattered, ivy crawling over its walls, and a door that never quite closed. It had become a shelter for stray dogs and drifters, but Harold had claimed a corner room upstairs as his sanctuary.When he pushed the door open, dust rose like smoke in the light from a cracked window. The silence was heavy, almost sacred. He liked that. Here, the world didn’t shout. It whispered.He crossed
Chapter 5 – First Blood
The city had a cruel rhythm that didn’t stop for pain. Somewhere in the south blocks, under a flickering streetlamp, Diego Flinch learned that lesson with his face pressed against wet concrete, his ribs cracking under a boot.“Where’s our cut, kid?” growled one of the extortionists—a thick-necked man with yellow teeth and eyes that glittered like broken glass.Diego spat blood, refusing to speak. His defiance made them laugh, a harsh chorus echoing down the empty alley. They beat him until the laughter turned bored, and then they left, kicking over a trash bin as if to punctuate the insult.He lay there for a while, tasting iron and dust, watching the orange glow of a distant window where someone else was safe, warm, and far from this kind of night.When Harold found him, dawn had started to bleed through the clouds.“Jesus, Diego…” Harold knelt, touching his brother’s bruised jaw. “Who did this?”“Doesn’t matter,” Diego muttered, half-conscious. “They just… wanted to remind me we don
You may also like
Black Hand Over the Sky
shuo832 viewsThe Return of the Mafia Don
Vianne Micheals424 viewsThe Return of The Gangster Lord; Mark Smith
Eric152 viewsConcrete Thrones: The Making of a Mafia Boss”
dbranch writes195 viewsThe Return of the Mafia Boss
Gbemiè1.0K viewsTHE WRATH OF THE MAFIA KING'S HIDDEN SON
Eden Grey293 viewsBurn Loot
Onomzki 928 viewsCROWN OF ASHES
Emí Otunba141 views