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Ghost Returns
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2025-02-20 06:14:19The private jet landed smoothly on American soil as night approached New York City. Inside the cabin, Jordan couldn't contain his excitement, letting loose a string of curses that made Maria wince.
"Holy fucking shit, we're finally here! Look at that goddamn skyline—it's beautiful as fuck!" Maria shot him a withering look. "Jordan, I swear to God, if you don't stop cursing for five minutes..." "What? I'm just expressing my fucking joy here!" He grinned, completely unrepentant. At his tablet, Gerald didn't even bother looking up. He was used to Jordan's antics, He sat calmly with his fingers flying across the screen as he coordinated their arrival details. "If you two could keep it down, I'm trying to work here." "Always the serious one," Jordan muttered, but his attention was already caught by something else outside the window. "Damn, look at those cars waiting for us!" "Stop acting like you haven't ridden such before." Maria said a small smile creeping on her face. ------ Victor was the last to exit the jet, pausing at the top of the stairs. He took a deep breath, letting the familiar New York air fill his lungs. The city stretched out before him—his city, once upon a time. The lights twinkled like jewels in the growing darkness, a kingdom waiting to be reclaimed. A fleet of luxury vehicles stood ready on the tarmac, their black paint gleaming under the airport lights. Jordan's eyes went wide at the sight of the Maybach, its sleek lines practically calling his name. "Now that's what I'm talking about baby!" He started moving toward it with purpose. "Dibs on—" Maria's hand shot out, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward one of the other cars. "That one's for Victor." "What?" Jordan looked between the two vehicles, his face falling comically. "Are you fucking kidding me? I mean, our car's nice too, but... come on! Look at that fucking Maybach!" Maria rolled her eyes. "Just get in the car, Jordan." "This is such bullshit," he grumbled, but followed her anyway. "Complete and utter fucking bullshit. The things I put up with..." One of Victor's men approached carrying a steel case. Opening it, he revealed a set of high-tech earpieces. Jordan's mood immediately improved as he snatched one up. "Hell yeah! These are the good ones, right? The ones we used in that job in Milan?" Gerald finally looked up from his tablet. "Yes, Jordan. Try not to break this one." "That wasn't my fault!" Jordan protested, fitting the device into his ear. "That asshole in Venice started it—" "Jordan," Maria interrupted, taking her own earpiece. "Focus. Is yours working?" "Working? Fuck yeah, it's working! Crystal clear, baby!" His voice boomed through everyone's earpieces, making them wince. From his position by the Maybach, Victor watched their interaction with quiet amusement. They were so different from his old crew—rough around the edges where Xavier had been smooth, direct where Selena had been subtle. But they were loyal. After five years, he knew that much. The convoy pulled away from the airport, merging into the flow of New York traffic. Victor sat in the backseat, his eyes scanning the familiar streets. Memories flooded back unbidden—drives like this with Selena beside him, her perfume filling the car, her laugh making him forget who and what he was... His jaw clenched. Even now, after everything, she could still get to him. "Boss?" His driver's voice broke through his thoughts. "We'll be at the safe house in twenty minutes." Victor nodded, forcing thoughts of Selena away. That's when Jordan's voice crackled through his earpiece. "—and I'm telling you, Maria, the boss was the one to take my virginity.....wait that came out wrong...I don't mean himself but....." "Jordan!" Maria's exasperated voice came through clearly. "Everyone can hear you!" "Bullshit," Jordan scoffed. Then, uncertainly: "Uh... Victor? Boss? You there?" Victor let them sweat for a moment, his lips twitching slightly. When he finally spoke, he made his voice deliberately stern. "I heard everything, Jordan. Every fucking thing." "Ah, shit," Jordan muttered, followed by a string of creative curses before his line went silent. In the following car, Maria couldn't help but smile as she watched Jordan frantically fumbling with his earpiece. She caught his eye, and he shot her a sheepish grin that made something flutter in her chest—not that she'd ever admit it. Gerald shook his head, but there was a hint of fondness in his expression. "Some things never change." The convoy continued through the neon-lit streets of New York, each member lost in their own thoughts. For Victor, each familiar landmark was a reminder of what he'd lost—and what he was about to take back. For Maria, it was a new chapter in a story that had begun the day Victor saved her life. For Jordan, it was another adventure, another chance to prove himself. And for Gerald, it was a return to a world he thought he'd left behind. Tomorrow, the real work would begin. Tomorrow, they would start dismantling Xavier's empire piece by piece. Tomorrow, Victor Reis would remind New York why they used to fear his name. But tonight, as their cars wound through the city streets, they were just four people united by loyalty, revenge, and the promise of what was to come. The Ghost had returned to America. And soon, everyone would know it.
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The office was a disaster.Shattered glass crunched under Gerald’s boots as he stepped inside. The once-pristine liquor cabinet was in ruins, the scent of spilled whiskey thick in the air. Chairs were overturned, papers scattered across the floor. A broken lamp lay in the corner, its bulb flickering weakly.But the real storm wasn’t in the destruction.It stood by the window, silent and still, staring down at the city below.Victor.His back was rigid, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. He had barely spoken since receiving the video of Miguel. The room had taken the brunt of his rage, but Gerald knew that wasn’t enough.Not for Victor.Not when his son was out there.Gerald shut the door behind him, the soft click breaking the heavy silence.“Say something,” he said, keeping his voice steady.Victor didn’t turn. His reflection in the glass was unreadable, the city lights casting sharp angles across his face.“We leave in an hour,” he said finally, his tone as cold as st
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