CHAPTER 58 – Trapped

The alley was silent. Too silent.

Alexander had learned long ago that silence was never a good thing. It was a predator crouching in the dark, waiting to strike. And tonight, it came with the face of his own blood.

He barely had time to react before the first blow landed.

Pain exploded across his ribs as he stumbled back, catching sight of his attacker—his brother.

Nathaniel Voss.

The brother he once admired. The brother who betrayed him.

"Miss me?" Nathaniel sneered, his voice laced with venom. "You should've stayed dead."

Alexander wiped the blood from his mouth and smirked. "And miss out on this family reunion? Wouldn't dream of it."

Nathaniel didn't wait for another word. He lunged, fists flying, and Alexander barely dodged in time. The fight was brutal from the first strike—bone-crushing, relentless, fueled by years of hatred.

Every hit was personal.

Nathaniel drove a knee into Alexander's gut, following up with an elbow to his jaw. The taste of iron filled Alexander's mouth as he staggered, but he refused to fall.

"You think you can win this war?" Nathaniel spat. "Father owns this city. Owns everything."

Alexander clenched his fists. "Not for long."

With a growl, he launched himself forward, slamming into Nathaniel with all his strength. They crashed through crates, tumbling onto the cold, wet concrete. Fists, elbows, knees—it was a brawl of pure survival. No rules. No mercy.

Nathaniel was stronger, but Alexander was more desperate.

He caught Nathaniel's wrist mid-strike and twisted, forcing him onto his back. Straddling him, he rained down punches, years of rage poured into every hit. But just as he was about to land a final blow, Nathaniel pulled a knife from his boot.

Pain ripped through Alexander's side as the blade sank deep.

He gasped, rolling off as blood soaked through his shirt. Nathaniel staggered to his feet, breathless, grinning. "You always were too sentimental."

Alexander pressed a hand to the wound, vision swimming. He needed to move. Now.

But he was too slow.

Nathaniel grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the alley wall, the knife pressed to his throat. "Father gave me one job," he whispered. "Bring him your corpse."

Alexander's grip tightened around Nathaniel's wrist. "Then you better make it count."

Nathaniel smirked and pressed down.

A gunshot rang out.

Nathaniel jerked back, a searing pain cutting across his arm. He turned in shock.

Eve stood at the entrance of the alley, gun steady in her hands. "Get away from him."

Nathaniel hesitated for only a second, but it was enough.

Alexander surged forward, twisting the knife from his brother's grasp and driving it into his shoulder. Nathaniel roared in pain, stumbling back, and Alexander didn't waste the opportunity. With one last punch, he sent him crashing to the ground.

Breathing hard, he clutched his bleeding side and turned to Eve. "Took you long enough."

She didn't smile. Instead, she ran to him, helping him stay on his feet. "Come on. We need to get you out of here."

Eve worked in silence, her hands steady as she stitched him up. Alexander lay on the bed, eyes dark with exhaustion, pain threading through every breath.

"You're going to live," she muttered, cutting the last suture.

He exhaled a rough chuckle. "Not sure if that's good news."

She slapped his shoulder—gently, but enough to make her point. "You don't get to die, Alexander. Not until you make them pay."

His gaze met hers, something unreadable flickering in his expression. Then, slowly, he nodded.

War wasn't over yet.

Not even close.