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The others keep talking about mostly defensive measures, but I’m starting to think that a show of strength has to be done. I’ve fortified all of my buildings and my businesses, and now, I want to strike back. If I keep being on the defensive, they’ll break through eventually, and they’ll never grow to respect me, but if I have the balls to fight back…
“Here’s what we’re going to do…”
I arrange to have a meeting with Damian at Valentino’s Delight, but I don’t show up. Instead, Jesse, Xavier, and I have other plans for tonight.
Whisper told me once that Damian knows the delicate art of playing both sides. I should’ve remembered that before I ever agreed to an alliance that never amounted to much of one.
I smirk as we climb out of a car around the back of Keller Kleaners. It’s one of the places where Damian launders his money. It’s late. No one is working here. I made sure of that.
Neon lights cast an eerie glow on the deserted streets, a stark contrast to the chaos we’re about to unleash. Most of this strip club is empty at this hour.
“Let’s give Damian a taste of our strength,” I murmur.
Jesse takes aim and then smirks, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous excitement. “Sending a message. Showcasing our power,” he mutters, glancing at me for approval.
I nod, the cold resolve settling in my chest. It’s time to make Damian pay.
Xavier nods. “Hit it hard but no casualties in case there is someone unexpected inside. We want them shaken, not martyrs, and we’re not stooping to their level.”
He’s right. We want to send a message, not become the monsters we’re fighting against.
Clad in shadows, we move with calculated precision. The assault on Damian’s business venture is a deliberate show of force, a visceral reminder that my empire won’t crumble without a fight. As the echoes of gunfire and shattering glass reverberate, the message is clear.
I am a force to be reckoned with.
We unleash controlled chaos. Bullets punctuate the air, finding their mark on the walls, counters, washing machines, and dryers. Shattered glass and debris scatter like echoes of rebellion.
Broken glass, shattered decorations, and bullet-riddled walls bear witness to our wrath. The aftermath leaves a smoldering ruin, a testament to my resolve. Now, the ball is in Damian’s court, and the criminal underworld trembles as the echoes of this retaliatory strike resonate. The dance of power continues, and I play my moves with strategic finesse, determined to emerge from the shadows victorious.
My heart races with every gunshot, each one a declaration of our defiance. Damian needs to understand that my empire isnot to be trifled with. I move with calculated intent, leading the charge, leaving a trail of destruction in our wake.
Jesse smirks. “This will hit him where it hurts.”
Not as badly as if we had hit one of his operation sites, but that’s okay. If he continues to go after me, I’ll hit him again and again. An eye for an eye.
If he did this to City Slices and The Black Lotus…
I won’t worry about that now.
As we exit the building, the night seems darker, the air heavier. The message has been sent, and now we wait for the ripples of our actions to reach Damian. The Penumbra Legion stands united, a force to be reckoned with, ready to face whatever consequences may come.
We return to the car. Before I climb in, I utter with cold determination, “Damian needs to understand that every move against me comes at a cost.”
The act of defiance echoes through the criminal underworld, a visceral display of my resolve. As the night air carries the echoes of gunfire, the Penumbra Legion stands united, ready to face the consequences of our retaliation.
CHAPTER 27
In the quiet aftermath of our retaliatory strike, I find myself unwilling to climb out of the car to enter The Black Lotus. Even though I’m far away, I feel like I’m still standing amidst the ruins of Damian’s establishment, the weight of my choices settling upon my shoulders. The acrid scent of gunpowder hangs in the air, a stark reminder of the path I’ve chosen.
Maybe I’ve lost my mind to grief.
To rage.
To depression.
To fury.
Jesse and Xavier glance at each other and then at me. The flickering neon lights from the “City Slices” sign cast distorted shadows on their faces, an emblematic reflection of the blurred lines between loyalty and power.
