The air was thick with tension. The flashing red and blue lights painted eerie shadows across the warehouse walls. The police officers stood frozen, waiting for a signal. But it wasn't Moris Sinclair or Ronan Vale who controlled the scene.
It was Victor Mendez.
Moris had built his empire through strategic precision, anticipating every move his enemies could make. But Victor? Victor wasn't an enemy—he was something worse.
He was a force of nature.
And now, Moris had to decide whether to kneel or fight.
The Silent War
Moris met Victor's gaze, his expression giving away nothing. "You expect me to just accept your terms?"
Victor chuckled. "I expect you to be smart enough to recognize an opportunity when it's handed to you."
Ronan stood stiffly beside them, his jaw clenched. The man who had once held so much power now looked like a caged animal. He knew that Victor's "offer" wasn't really a choice.
It was a leash.
Moris exhaled slowly, keeping his voice even. "And if I refuse?"
Victor's smile didn't fade. "Then you become my problem. And I don't like problems, Sinclair."
Behind him, the police commander spoke into his radio. The officers lowered their weapons. They weren't here to arrest Victor. They were his.
That revelation sent a wave of quiet fury through Moris's veins.
Ronan scoffed. "So that's it? We become your puppets?"
Victor glanced at him, amused. "You're not worth enough to be my puppet, Vale. You're lucky I'm letting you walk away at all."
Ronan's face twisted in frustration, but he said nothing. He had no move left.
But Moris did.
Moris's Move
Moris took a step forward, lowering his voice so only Victor could hear. "You're making a mistake."
Victor's eyes gleamed with interest. "Am I?"
Moris's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "I don't bow. Not to Ronan. Not to you. You want me to play your game? Fine. But I play to win."
Victor studied him for a long moment before laughing softly. "That's what I like about you, Sinclair. You think you're still in control."
Moris turned away. "We'll see."
Victor's smirk lingered as he signaled to the police commander. "We're done here."
The officers stepped back, melting into the shadows as quickly as they had come.
Ronan cast one last glare at Moris before stalking off, knowing his empire was gone.
Victor took his time leaving, his final words lingering in the cold night air.
"Be careful, Sinclair. The moment you stop being useful, I'll remind you who really owns this city."
Moris didn't reply.
He didn't need to.
Because even though Victor thought he had won—Moris was already planning his next move.
And this time, he wouldn't just win. He'd burn Victor's entire empire to the ground.