"Boss! Boss! BOSS!" Jordan's voice boomed through the hallway before the door to Victor's private office burst open. Victor looked up from the map he'd been studying with Gerald and Maria, his expression darkening at the interruption. The room was small but elegant, with heavy curtains drawn against the afternoon light and a single desk lamp casting shadows across their faces. "Jordan," Victor said, his voice deceptively calm. "We've talked about boundaries, haven't we? Knocking, perhaps?" Jordan waved away the comment, his breath coming fast like he'd run up several flights of stairs. "It's important." "It better be," Victor replied, leaning back in his leather chair. "Or I might have to remind you what happens to people who waste my time." Maria smirked from her position by the window, clearly enjoying Jordan's discomfort. Gerald merely raised an eyebrow, his stoic expression giving nothing away. Despite the thinly veiled threat, Jordan pressed on. "I found a way for you to ge
Two days later, Victor stood before the full-length mirror in his bedroom, adjusting the pristine cuffs of his midnight-black suit. The tailored Italian fabric hugged his broad shoulders and tapered perfectly at his narrow waist, highlighting the lean, muscular physique he'd maintained through rigorous training. Five years of rebuilding himself had transformed his body into a weapon—efficient, powerful, and deadly. His facehad hardened into sharp angles and shadowed hollows. A thin scar traced his jawline, barely visible unless you knew to look for it. His dark eyes reflected nothing, giving away none of the storm that raged within him. Victor straightened his red tie and exhaled slowly. Tonight wasn't just about information gathering. It was about returning to the grave Xavier had dug for him. When he finally stepped out of his room, he found Jordan, Maria, and Gerald waiting in the foyer of the penthouse. Their reactions were immediate and varied. Maria's eyes widened, a sof
Selena hummed softly as she applied the final touches to her makeup, her mind still lingering on the afternoon she'd spent with Miguel. The memory of his laughter warmed her from within as she reached for her lipstick. "Mama, look!" he had shouted earlier that day, proudly holding up a drawing of what appeared to be two stick figures—one tall, one small—standing before a house with an impossibly large sun beaming down on them. "It's beautiful, mi vida," she had whispered, fighting back tears as she gathered him into her arms. Four years old and already so talented, so perfect. "Is this us?" "Yes!" Miguel had nodded enthusiastically, his dark curls bouncing. "And that's our house. The one you said we'll have someday." The promise she'd made him—a real home, just the two of them, far away from Xavier's watchful eyes—felt both like a lifeline and a cruel fantasy. Every Saturday, these precious hours with her son were all that kept her going, all that made the rest of her captivit
The sleek black limousine pulled away from the curb, carrying them through the glittering city toward Xavier's mansion in the hills, where the masquerade ball awaited. Selena stared out the window, trying to lose herself in the blur of lights rather than dwell on the significance of this day. Five years ago, she had committed the ultimate betrayal. Five years ago, she had looked into the eyes of the man who loved her and watched as he had been shot—once, twice, three times—watching as shock, pain, and finally understanding flooded his gaze before he crumpled to the floor. Xavier's phone rang, interrupting her dark thoughts. He checked the screen and a lascivious grin spread across his face before he answered. "Valentina," he purred into the phone, not bothering to lower his voice. "I've been thinking about you all day." What followed was a conversation so explicit that Selena had to fight the urge to open the car door and throw herself onto the freeway. Xavier described in gra
Victor stood at the entrance of the grand ballroom, his mask concealing the scars that told the story of his resurrection. The opulent display of wealth surrounding him—crystal chandeliers, ice sculptures, and the elite of the criminal world draped in designer fabrics—only fueled his determination. He scanned the crowd methodically, his crew flanking him. "See anything you like, boss?" Jordan whispered, adjusting his silver mask. His eyes darted appreciatively toward a group of women by the champagne fountain. Maria elbowed him sharply. "We're here to work, not for you to find your next disappointment," she hissed through her mask. "Children, please," Gerald muttered, his voice low and measured beneath his mask. "This isn't a playground. Victor needs to concentrate." Jordan rolled his eyes. "You're not my father, old man." "Thank heaven for small mercies," Gerald replied dryly. "Now behave yourself before I make you wait in the car." Maria stifled a laugh, but her amusement fade
Xavier stood among his guests, a crystal glass of aged whiskey in his hand as he laughed with practiced charm. His golden mask, adorned with small emeralds at the corners, caught the light as he tilted his head. "Mayor Collins, I'm honored you could attend tonight," Xavier said, clinking glasses with the shorter man. "Your support for the new development project means everything." The mayor chuckled, his jowls shaking beneath his simple black mask. "The pleasure is all mine, Xavier. Your donations to the city have been most... generous." "We all must do our part for the community," Xavier replied with a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes. As the mayor launched into a story about his golf game, Xavier's attention drifted across the crowded ballroom. That's when he saw him—a man in a midnight black suit with a matching mask, standing perfectly still amid the swirling dancers and mingling guests. Just watching. Even from a distance, Xavier could feel the intensity of that star
Selena felt the room spinning as her lungs screamed for air. Xavier's fingers dug deeper into her throat, his face contorted with rage and fear. "Did he approach you at the ball?" Xavier demanded again, his voice low and dangerous. "Has he contacted you before tonight? Tell me!" She clawed weakly at his wrist, dark spots dancing at the edges of her vision. Xavier leaned closer, his breath hot against her face. "If you're lying to me, Selena, Miguel will pay the price. Your precious little boy will suffer for your betrayal. Do you understand me?" At the mention of her son's name, terror surged through her body. Selena nodded frantically, ready to confess everything—the dance with Victor, the photo he'd seen, every word they'd exchanged—anything to protect Miguel. Just as she opened her mouth, the door burst open. One of Xavier's bodyguards rushed in, breathless and agitated. "Sir, we have a problem," the man announced, oblivious to the scene before him. "The security system
Victor stood watching Selena's tense and departing form as she disappeared amongst the people dancing in the ballroom, his expression unreadable beneath his mask. A familiar laugh cut through the ambient noise, drawing his attention. Xavier. He traced the source to see his former friend standing with the mayor of the city, both men engaged in what appeared to be an amusing conversation. Victor gritted his teeth as he watched the bastard, someone he had once considered his brother. As though sensing his gaze, Xavier suddenly turned, and their eyes met across the crowded room. Victor saw recognition dawning in Xavier's eyes, a flicker of confusion followed by disbelief spreading beneath his ornate mask. *Fuck.* The moment Xavier was distracted by the mayor turning to him with another comment, Victor used the momentary diversion to slip away, tapping his earpiece to signal the rest of his crew. "I've been made. Clear out. Now," he murmured, his voice low and urgent. "Are you
The roof access door crashed open again, the sound echoing across the rooftop like a gunshot.Victor's heart skipped a beat. Time seemed to slow down as Selena stumbled through the doorway, her face bruised with purple and yellow marks, her dark hair tangled around her shoulders like a storm cloud. Despite everything—the betrayal, the years of pain—his chest tightened at the sight of her. She was still beautiful, still the woman who haunted his dreams."Selena," he whispered, the name catching in his throat.Xavier's laugh cut through the tension, sharp as a knife. "Perfect timing!" he called out, his eyes gleaming with cruel delight. "Tell Victor the truth about us, Selena. Tell him how eagerly you came to my bed after I shot him."Victor felt each word like a physical blow, but kept his face blank. He couldn't show weakness. Not now. Not with Xavier's gun still pointed at his head.Selena's eyes locked on Xavier, hatred burning in their depths like fire. She moved forward slowly, he
Thomas staggered through the door, one hand pressed against his bleeding shoulder. His face was pale, his breathing ragged. Blood soaked through his shirt and dripped down his arm, leaving a trail of dark spots on the concrete roof.Victor's eyes widened. "Thomas!"Ten minutes earlierThomas had seen the gun in Emilio's hand too late. The shot rang out, and searing pain tore through his shoulder. He stumbled backward, crashing against the wall as Emilio advanced, a cruel smile spreading across his face."Too bad," Emilio sneered, standing over him. "Xavier might have forgiven you."Thomas's vision blurred at the edges. The pain was like fire spreading through his body. But his mind latched onto one thought—Miguel. The boy was alone, scared, trying to find his father.With the last of his strength, Thomas lunged forward, catching Emilio by surprise. His good arm shot out, grabbing Emilio's wrist and twisting. The gun clattered to the floor.Emilio roared in anger, throwing a wild punch
Victor's boots pounded against the metal stairs as he raced upward. His lungs burned, his muscles screamed, but he kept going. Nothing would stop him from reaching Miguel.The sounds of battle echoed from below—gunshots, shouting, explosions—but all Victor could hear was his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.Hold on, son. I'm coming.He reached a landing and paused, pressing his back against the wall as he heard footsteps above. Two of Xavier's guards were coming down, weapons at the ready. Victor steadied his breathing, waiting.The moment the first guard rounded the corner, Victor struck. His gun fired once, twice. The guard dropped without a sound. The second guard barely had time to raise his weapon before Victor's bullet found his chest.Blood trickled down Victor's arm from a bullet graze, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear gripping his heart. Fear of being too late. Fear of losing the son he'd only just discovered.He continued up the stairs, his movements swift
Thomas peered around another corner, then pulled back quickly. The hallway ahead was clear for now, but he could hear voices in the distance. His heart hammered against his ribs as he knelt in front of Miguel."Listen carefully," he whispered, placing his hands gently on the boy's shoulders. "Your father is coming for you, but we need to meet him halfway."Miguel's eyes were wide and trusting. "Where is he?""He's fighting his way up through the building," Thomas explained, keeping his voice steady despite the urgency building inside him. "Xavier's men are taking you to the roof for the helicopter. Your father knows this - he's heading there now."Miguel glanced nervously at the ceiling, as if he could see through the floors to the roof above."Are we going there too?" he asked.Thomas nodded. "That's the plan. But there are too many guards between us and the stairs." He pulled out his phone, showing Miguel a rough map of the building. "See this? We're here. And we need to get up ther
Miguel huddled in the corner of the dark closet, his small body trembling. The men had shoved him in here after rushing through the hallways. Something about gunfire on the lower levels had made them pause."Stay quiet or I'll shut you up myself," one of them had growled before slamming the door.Miguel pulled his knees to his chest, trying to stop the tears. He wanted his mommy. He wanted to go home.Outside, he heard the men arguing."Santiago was supposed to meet us here," the first guard said. "We can't move the kid without backup.""Xavier wants him on that helicopter now!" the second guard snapped."You wanna walk through a firefight carrying a screaming kid? Be my guest."Heavy footsteps approached. Miguel held his breath."Where's Santiago?" a new voice asked.Miguel recognized it. Thomas. One of Uncle Xavier's men who sometimes brought him food. He wasn't as mean as the others."Don't know. He's not answering his radio," the first guard replied. "We're waiting for—"A sudden
Jordan stumbled out of the cell, his body screaming with every movement. His face was swollen, dried blood caking his eyebrow. But he was free. And he had a gun. A swollen eye also. Freedom didn't last long. Two guards rounded the corner, their eyes widening at the sight of him. "Hey!" one shouted, reaching for his weapon. Jordan didn't give him time. His body might be broken, but his instincts were sharp as ever. He lunged forward, ignoring the pain tearing through his ribs. "Surprise motherfucker!," he growled, smashing the butt of his gun into the first guard's face. The man's nose crunched under the impact. Blood sprayed across the wall. The second guard managed to pull his gun halfway out of its holster before Jordan tackled him. They crashed to the floor together, Jordan using his body weight to pin the larger man down. "Stay the fuck down!" Jordan hissed, struggling to keep control. The guard bucked underneath him, throwing Jordan off balance. A fist connecte
Xavier's eyes darted between screens in the surveillance room. His empire was seriously crumbling around him, and Victor was at the center of it all. "Sir, we need to evacuate now," the man beside urged again for the fifth time. Xavier ignored him, transfixed by the image of Victor cutting through his defenses like they were nothing. The man moved with deadly precision, his face a mask of cold fury. Every shot found its mark. Every man who stood in his way fell. If he wasn't coming for his head, Xavier would've been amazed. "Sir! Please!" Xavier finally tore his eyes away from the screen. "Get the helicopter ready. Same with the boy." Across the mansion, Thomas pressed himself against a wall, listening intently to his radio. Victor's voice crackled through. "Where's my son?" Thomas glanced around the corner. Two guards were dragging Miguel toward the stairwell leading to the roof. "They're taking him to the helipad," Thomas whispered into the radio. "East stairwell. Hurry, Vic
Jordan's body felt like it was on fire. Days of torture had left him weak, his vision blurry. But he wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot. He had been working on the rope binding his wrists for long, rubbing it against a sharp edge of the metal chair. When it finally snapped, he had almost cried out in relief. But he stayed quiet. Waiting and bidding his time. The guard outside his cell was getting more tense. Jordan could see it in the way the man kept checking his watch, the way he paced back and forth. Worried because from the gunshots sounds out, things seemed grim. "Hey," Jordan called out, his voice cracking. "I think... I think I'm dying. Please..." The guard peered through the small window in the door. "Shut up." "There's blood... everywhere," Jordan whispered, letting his head loll forward. "Xavier will kill you if I die before he's done with me." That got the guard's attention. The door creaked open, and a beam of light cut through the darkness. "What the hell are you
On the rooftop, Xavier stood near his helicopter, his sharp eyes scanning the compound below. The night sky was thick with smoke, gunfire echoing from the battle raging outside. Victor's men were pushing forward. It was only a matter of time before they broke through. He turned to his pilot. "Stay ready." "Yes, sir." The pilot's hands hovered over the controls, ready for instant takeoff. But Xavier wasn't leaving yet. The best games always had a final act. "Bring the boy," he ordered into his radio. Moments later, Miguel was dragged onto the helipad. His small wrists were cuffed, his face streaked with dirt, but his eyes blazed with anger despite his situation. Children were funny beings. "Can you hear it?" Xavier asked, gesturing to the sounds of battle below. "That's your father, fighting to reach you." He smiled coldly. "He won't make it in time." "I may not know my dad." Miguel said, his voice trembling slightly. "My mom would never marry a loser, miss lilly said so.