The Circle.

The room was dark, the kind of dark that felt alive, like it was watching. A single chandelier hung above the circle table, its light barely reaching the edges of the room. The air smelled like smoke and tension, thick enough to choke on.

Around the table, the bosses of The Circle sat.

One of them at the table—quiet, still, like a shadow that didn't need to move to be felt. The others argued, but his silence was louder than all of them combined.

"This split doesn't make sense," one of them snapped, slamming a hand on the table. "I'm bringing in half the money, and I'm getting scraps. How is that fair?"

The woman across from him smirked, her voice smooth but cold. "Fair? You're forgetting who's keeping your deals off the radar. Without me, your money would be sitting in a police evidence locker."

"And who's cleaning up your messes?" another boss cut in, his voice a low growl. "Every time someone steps out of line, I'm the one putting them down. But sure, let's talk about fair."

The first boss threw up his hands. "Oh, come on! You act like you're the only one who—"

"I would do that too," the woman interrupted, her tone icy. "If you'd let me handle it. But no, you're too busy playing the hero, acting like you're the only one who knows how to get their hands dirty."

The scarred boss leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "You think you could do what I do? You think you've got the stomach for it?"

"I know I do," she shot back, not blinking. "But unlike you, I don't enjoy it."

The fourth boss, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. Her voice was soft, but it cut through the room like a blade. "We're supposed to be a team. But all I see is greed. If we keep this up, we'll tear each other apart before anyone else gets the chance."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Then the first boss laughed, a harsh, bitter sound.

"A team? Don't make me laugh. We're not a team. We're a ticking time bomb, and everyone in this room knows it."

And suddenly, he finally moved. Just a slight shift, barely noticeable, but it was enough to make everyone stop and look his way.

"Enough," he said, his voice low and calm.

The room went still. No one argued. No one even breathed too loud.

"We're not here to fight each other," he continued, his eyes scanning the room. "We're here to decide how to move forward. And if you can't do that without tearing each other apart, then maybe you don't belong at this table."

The silence that followed was heavier than before. No one dared to speak. No one dared to even look at him directly.

Because in The Circle, there was only one rule: you didn't cross him.

"A year ago, you came to me asking for an alliance, to build an empire together, to become the most powerful."

James rose slowly from his chair, his gaze locking onto each of them. His voice was calm, controlled—but beneath it lurked something dangerous.

"A ticking bomb, you said, Marcos."

Marcos suddenly lowered his eyes, staring at the floor, not sparing so much as a glance in James' direction.

Marco "The Butcher" DeLuca—a man whose name alone was enough to silence a room. A killer without remorse, his hands forever stained with the blood of those who had dared to stand in his way. And yet, at that moment, he didn't even dare look at James.

"For all I care, that bomb can go off right now."

James' voice rose, his piercing gaze sweeping across the room. In his eyes burned a fire that had made even the most ruthless men hesitate. A fire that no one dared challenge.

"We made a mistake," Isabella finally spoke, her voice strained, sweat dripping down her face as if she had just run a marathon. "Just as Marco made a mistake with his words. Please, James, overlook his slip."

She bowed her head even lower as she spoke.

Isabella "The Spider" Russo—queen of the city's underground, her web of informants stretching into every dark alley and hidden corner of Hargun.

The others nodded in silent agreement, none of them daring to lift their eyes toward James.

He exhaled slowly, then a smirk played at the corner of his lips. "Alright then, let's discuss the split."

With that, he sank back into his chair, and in an instant, the entire atmosphere shifted. A collective breath was released, fear momentarily dissolving into the air.

"Isabella gathered the intel, and Victor was the one who bribed the guards. Correct?"

"Correct, James," replied Victor "The Viper" Moretti—a master of bribes and blackmail. He could make anyone disappear with a single phone call.

"Marco and Sophia handled the heist details, didn't they?"

"Yes, James," answered Sophia "The Ghost" Conti—a master of deception. She could walk into a room, take what she needed, and leave without a single soul remembering she was ever there.

James leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly. "So what exactly are we arguing about? Since I had no involvement in any of this, it's only fair that everyone gets an equal 25%."

The room fell silent again, but this time, everyone exchanged glances, uncertainty flickering between them. Finally, it was Sophia who spoke.

"But you deserve a share too—"

She stopped mid-sentence. The moment she met James' gaze, she understood. That look in his eyes… it wasn't the look of a man who needed anything from them.

No, it carried a different message entirely.

"Do you really think I need it?"

"Understood, James. And so it shall be. Our blood will bear witness."

Sophia stood, stabbing her finger with a small blade and letting a single drop of blood fall into the goblet at the center of the table. One by one, the others followed suit, sealing the agreement in the only way The Circle knew.

James stepped forward, pressing the blade against his own finger. "Let my blood bear witness."

But as he moved, a sudden dizziness overtook him. He had barely eaten, barely slept. The sharp sting of the blade mixed with his exhaustion, and before he could steady himself, he stumbled.

Right into Sophia.

"James, are you alright?" she asked, steadying him with a firm grip.

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Forgive me, darling, I haven't been getting much sleep lately."

His voice was smooth, his smile effortless—but that smile, mixed with his scent, stirred something in Sophia. Something that had been buried for a long time.

And the others saw it too.

They weren't sure what had just happened, but as they watched the exchange, they all had the same thought.

He's planning something.

When the meeting finally ended, James was the first to leave. The moment he stepped outside, the cold air hit him like a punch to the gut. His pulse pounded in his ears, his blood pressure spiking.

I thought I was going to die there. Holy shit.

He took deep, steadying breaths, careful to keep his face neutral. None of his "brothers" could ever see him like this.

If they had rejected my terms, they would have skinned me alive. And seriously, why the hell were they even arguing? They did the job together, what's the damn problem? They're worse than children. And this damn suit—it itches like hell.

"Sir?"

A voice broke through his thoughts. To his left, a well-dressed man stepped forward.

"Hans, take me home," James ordered, quickly regaining his composure.

As he settled into the back seat, he closed his eyes for a moment.

If only I could go back to my old life. Back to my morning coffee, back to the comforting scent of coffee beans. Back to a time when my biggest concern wasn't whether today would be the day they figured me out.

But that thought was shattered by the sudden ring of his phone.

And just like that, the man he never wanted to be returned.

"Hans, to the hospital as fast as you can!" James shouted, and that was all Hans needed—he slammed his foot on the gas.

Upon arriving at the hospital, James didn't even wait for the car to come to a full stop. He flung the door open and leaped out, rushing inside with all his strength.

"How is he?!" he demanded, grabbing the mother's arms tightly. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

"He's alive, but how... how could they do this?!" she sobbed, collapsing into James's arms. "How could they do this to my little boy?!" Her cries echoed down the hallway.

That was all James needed to hear. Without hesitation, he stormed toward the hospital room, pushing the door open to find his little brother lying there—hooked up, his body covered in bruises, his head wrapped in bandages.

"Rafael..." James fell to his knees beside the bed, clenching his fists as he fought back tears. "I'm here now, you don't have to be afraid anymore… your big brother is here," his voice broke as he wept.

"James Bellini?"

A doctor entered the room, holding a file in his hands.

James wasted no time. He stood up straight and locked eyes with the doctor, his gaze piercing and unrelenting, saying nothing.

"Your brother… his condition is stable, but he was underwater for too long, so—"

"Underwater?" James's hands clenched into fists.

The doctor swallowed hard and quickly looked back down at the file before continuing.

"According to the report, your brother was rescued from the Sun River by a fisherman—" The doctor hesitated, realizing that his words were fueling a fire that could explode at any moment. But he had no choice. "The fisherman claims your brother was thrown into the river by three other boys who—"

"Names."

"I'm sorry, but I can't disclose—"

The doctor instantly realized who he was dealing with. The James Bellini standing before him wasn't just a name whispered in dark alleys—he was a legend, a nightmare. He swallowed hard before speaking again.

"The fisherman identified one of them as Adam Hins… he turned himself in to the police and confessed."

"The police chief's son, right?" James's eyes held no trace of humanity now, only pure rage.

The doctor said nothing, just gave a small nod before quickly stepping out of the room.

"Rest now, Rafael. Your big brother will take care of everything," James whispered with a chilling smile before stepping out to the waiting mother.

"Stay with him."

"James—"

But he didn't wait. He walked straight to the car.

"To the police station, Hans."

"Should I notify the Circle?"

"I'll handle it."

That was all Hans needed to hear. He started the engine and sped off toward the police station.

The moment James walked inside, every eye turned to him. A cold wave of fear swept through the entire station. No one dared to stop him. They simply let him pass, watching as he walked straight through the metal detector, which started beeping before he even stepped through it. Without hesitation, he headed straight for the police chief's office.

The door burst open with such force that the sound echoed throughout the upper floor.

Inside, the police chief immediately stood up from his chair, clearly nervous. His son sat beside him, smirking as if nothing had happened.

"Oh, someone thinks they're strong," a woman's voice came from the side.

James hadn't noticed her before, but he didn't care about her presence.

"Albert, your son—"

"I never thought the man at the top of my most-wanted list would just walk right into my arms," the woman interrupted. "The one who holds Hargun in his grasp, the most dangerous criminal in the city, James Bellini. I'm an agent of the National Security Bureau of Investigations, and as luck would have it, I happen to have a pair of handcuffs right here, so—"

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?"

"Which part of 'shut up' do you not understand?"

"I am not some low-level cop that you can—"

"Hans."

"Hana Forstin. Forty years old. NSBi agent. Two daughters attending high school in Ferni under fake identities. Her ex-husband is in a custody battle with her. Her parents live under alias identities in Kaput, just like her kids," Hans listed off the information while staring directly into the agent's eyes.

Hana froze for a second, momentarily shocked, but she knew exactly what kind of man she was dealing with.

"Threatening an agent? That's a bold move, don't you thi—"

"I'm going to wipe out your entire family tree and sit back to watch as every single one of your blood relatives disappears from existence. So get the hell out of my sight."

James's rage had reached its peak.

He would never actually do such monstrous things, but he had to use the reputation he had built. Yet, even he was a little shaken by how easily the words had left his lips.

Hana's eyes widened in fear, her hands trembling as she slowly stepped out of the office.

By now, the police chief's son had lost his smug expression. Reality had hit him—he was in deep, deep trouble. The man standing in front of him wasn't just dangerous—he was a demon.

"James, please, let's talk—"

"Tell me, Adam, heads or tails?" James pulled a coin from his pocket.

"Please, James, listen to me." The police chief fell to his knees, begging.

"Dad…"

"There is no 'Dad' here. Heads or tails?"

"Tails," Adam whispered.

James flipped the coin into the air, and within moments, it landed back in his hand.

"If it's heads, I torture everything and everyone you love, whether it's your girlfriend, your damn dog, or your family. But if it's tails, consider yourself the luckiest bastard alive. You'll only have to experience what my brother did—drowning in the Sun River until you pass out."

Adam finally realized he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Panic took hold of him, and he screamed in desperation.

"It wasn't just me! Klein Tim and Olka Immer were there too! They were the ones who pushed him! Not me!" he shouted, but no one was listening. His pleas fell on deaf ears.

"You sealed their fate the moment you said 'tails,'" James replied, turning his hand over to reveal the coin. "Lucky you, Adam—seventieth time in a row, and it's tails." He smirked.

Adam was on the verge of passing out from fear. His father had already collapsed to his knees, completely broken.

Hans stepped forward, kicking into the police chief to wake him up.

"Record a video and send it through the usual channel. If I don't receive the footage of your son and the two other bastards within two days, the 'heads' option becomes reality. Have a nice day."

With that, James walked out of the police station as if nothing had happened.

Slowly, as his anger and fury faded, a different feeling took over—fear.

What the hell did I just do?

He had just threatened the police chief's son, his entire family, and even an NSBI agent—inside the police station.

Fuck...