Chapter 47: The Syndicate's Shadow

Vera didn't make me wait long. Within an hour, my phone buzzed with a message.

"Meet me. Alone. Dock 17. Midnight."

Typical Vera—mysterious and cautious. She never did like dealing with other people's messes unless she had a reason.

I leaned back, staring at the screen. Ghost, sitting across from me, raised a brow.

"Vera?" he guessed.

"Yeah," I said, standing up and sliding the phone into my pocket. "She wants to meet. Alone."

Ghost stood too. "You're not seriously thinking about going alone?"

I gave him a small smirk. "You know I am."

"Damien—"

"I need her trust, Ghost. If I show up with backup, she might walk. And I can't afford to lose this lead."

Ghost hesitated, jaw tightening. "Alright. But I'm gonna be close. Watching."

I clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

—

Midnight. Dock 17.

The docks were quiet, waves lapping against rusted metal. The cold night air bit through my jacket as I walked between stacks of shipping containers.

Then I saw her—Vera, leaning against a crate, cigarette glowing in the dark. She looked the same as always: sharp, calculating eyes and a smirk that never quite reached them.

"Damien," she said, voice smooth as silk. "Didn't think I'd see you again."

I approached slowly, keeping my hands visible. "You said you had information."

She took a drag of her cigarette, exhaling smoke into the night.

"I do," she said. "But it's worse than you think."

I raised a brow. "Try me."

She flicked the ash away. "It's not just the Syndicate. It's Elias Dorne."

The name hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Elias Dorne?" I echoed. "I thought he was dead."

Vera shook her head. "Everyone thought he was. But he's back. And he's building something—something bigger than Kross ever dreamed of."

I stared at her, mind racing.

"Kross worked for Dorne once," she continued. "But when Dorne went underground, Kross took over. Now that Kross is gone… Dorne wants his city back."

My hands curled into fists. "Why now?"

Vera gave me a knowing look. "Because you killed Kross. You did Dorne's dirty work for him."

I felt the weight of her words settle in my chest.

"And now?" I asked.

"Now he's cleaning house. Taking out anyone who might challenge him. Which means you."

I nodded slowly. "What's he after?"

She smirked. "Same as always. Control. Fear. Power. But this time, he's got an army. Ex-military, mercenaries, assassins. Not street thugs like Kross. These people don't play games."

I exhaled sharply. "So what do you want from me, Vera?"

She stepped closer, eyes sharp.

"I want in."

I blinked. "In?"

"You're the only one crazy enough to take Dorne on. And if you do, I want to be standing next to the man who kills him."

A slow grin spread across my face. "You always were ambitious."

She smiled back. "Keeps me alive."

I extended a hand. "Partners, then?"

She took it without hesitation. "Partners."

But before I could say anything else, gunshots echoed through the night, sparking off metal and sending us both diving for cover.

"Looks like Dorne already knows we're talking," Vera hissed, pulling a gun from her coat.

I drew mine, pressing my back to the crate.

"Guess it's time to see if this partnership works," I muttered.

Vera grinned, cocking her weapon. "After you, Damien."

With a breath, I rolled out from cover and fired, dropping the first shadowed figure I saw. More moved between the crates—silent, professional, and heavily armed.

Ghost's voice crackled over my earpiece.

"Damien! You've got company. I count at least eight. More incoming."

"Yeah," I muttered, firing again. "Figured that out."

Vera covered me, taking out another man as she slid behind a container.

"You weren't kidding," she called out. "Dorne brought his best."

I smirked, reloading fast. "Then let's give them a welcome party."

The night exploded into chaos—gunfire, shouted orders, flashes of light in the dark. But through it all, one thing was clear:

If Elias Dorne wanted a war,I was ready to bring him one.