The city's sticky heat seeped through the cracked windows as Felix counted the cash in silence. Ivan cleaned his guns, the smoke from his cigarette curling like a ghost between them.
Suddenly, the door slammed open. Marlo stepped in, his presence filling the room like a storm about to break. He didn't bother with greetings.
"You boys think you're untouchable after that little circus with those punk-ass fools?" Marlo's voice was low, sharp, and dripping with challenge. "I didn't get this far by catching flies and playing nice. You wanna be bigger than me? Outgrow the shadow I cast over this city?"
Felix met his cold gaze, calm as ever but unwavering.
Ivan smirked, lighting another cigarette, the ember glowing defiantly in the dim light. "We ain't here to steal your crown. We're here to carve our own empire. But if you stand in the way? We'll burn it all down."
Marlo slammed his fist on the table, making the glasses jump and the room tense like a wire pulled taut.
"Careful with that mouth, Fiend. I've snapped jaws wider than yours for less." He leaned forward, voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "I built this empire on blood, fire, and betrayal — not mercy. You want in? Prove you're more than just reckless kids with guns."
Crushing his cigar under his boot, Marlo's eyes pierced through them like bullets.
"That last job—don't fuck it up. Make it count, or don't show your faces again."
Felix and Ivan exchanged a glance — silent but electric. The challenge was clear, the stakes higher than ever.