Chapter 46: Blood in the Water

The next morning, I stood over the map sprawled out on the safehouse table, Ghost leaning over my shoulder. The city was marked in red and black—territories that had once belonged to Kross, now left leaderless. And then there were the new marks—unknown territories, places where someone else had started moving.

"They're already making their play," Ghost said, tapping one of the red zones. "Last night, two of Kross's old labs were hit. Whoever's behind this isn't wasting time."

"Good," I said, rolling my shoulders. "Neither are we."

Ghost glanced at me. "You serious about this? About taking control of the city?"

I met his gaze, voice like steel. "I'm not letting someone else pull my strings. If I don't take control, they'll hunt us down, one by one."

He nodded slowly. "Alright. Then we hit back."

—

Later that day

We moved through the city like shadows, slipping through alleys and backstreets, gathering intel. My contacts were nervous—word of Kross's death had spread fast, and everyone was on edge.

At a grimy bar in the south district, I met with Rico, one of Kross's former lieutenants who had managed to stay alive. He was sweating, looking around like someone was about to shoot him.

"Damien," he said, giving me a nervous smile. "Didn't expect to see you walking around after what you pulled."

I leaned in, voice low. "I'm not here to chat, Rico. I want names. Who's moving on Kross's turf?"

Rico swallowed hard. "I don't know. They're ghosts—move fast, strike hard. But... there are rumors."

"What kind of rumors?" I pressed.

He looked around, then leaned closer.

"Some say it's the Syndicate—out-of-town muscle. People Kross was afraid of. Others say it's someone new, someone with deep pockets."

Ghost stepped forward, looming over Rico. "And what do you think?"

Rico wiped sweat from his brow. "I think... whoever it is, they're not here to play games. They're here to take over."

I stared at him, then nodded. "Thanks, Rico. That's all I needed to know."

As we walked out, Ghost gave me a look.

"So, Syndicate?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said. "But my gut says this is something else. Someone who knows me. Someone who wanted Kross gone."

Ghost frowned. "So what now?"

I pulled out my phone, scrolling to a contact I hadn't called in years—Vera, an old friend who ran her own underground network.

"We find out who's behind this. And then," I said, eyes cold, "we take the fight to them."

—

Nightfall

The city felt different now—like it was holding its breath, waiting for the next shot to be fired. Ghost and I sat in the safehouse, weapons laid out on the table, as the call to Vera connected.

Her voice was smooth as ever, but wary.

"Damien. It's been a long time."

"Too long," I said. "I need information."

She laughed softly. "You always do."

"This is serious, Vera. Someone's moving on Kross's empire. I need to know who."

There was a pause.

"I've heard things," she said. "But if you're going after them, you better be ready. They're not like Kross."

"Who are they?" I asked.

"Someone worse," she said. "Someone who doesn't care about money—only power."

My grip tightened on the phone.

"Send me what you know."

"I will," Vera said. "But Damien... be careful. You're walking into a war you might not come out of."

I hung up, leaning back in my chair, mind racing.

"Looks like we're not done yet," I muttered.

Ghost smirked. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

As I stared out the window, the city lights blinking like distant fires, I knew one thing—this wasn't over. It was just the beginning.

And I was ready to paint this city red if I had to.