Fernando sat in his office, the glow of the city stretching out beyond the tall windows. A tumbler of whiskey trembled in his hand, though his face betrayed nothing. He had lived too long in shadows to be shaken by rumours. But this—this was different.
His right-hand man rushed in, sweat beading on his forehead. "Boss… It's Aaron. He's moving."
Fernando's eyes narrowed, the ice in his glass clinking as his grip tightened. "Moving? Be clear."
"They've been gathering men. Ken is with him. Your warehouses, your docks—they're not safe. We have confirmation they've been mapping your routes. They're coming for you, Fernando. Soon."
A dark laugh rumbled in Fernando's chest. "That boy… he actually thinks he can kill me?" He rose slowly from his chair, every motion deliberate, controlled. "I was my parents' right-hand man. I taught his mother how this world works. Does he really believe he can erase me?"
The man swallowed hard, shifting on his feet. "It's not just rumours anymore. He's got firepower. He's building alliances in silence, like you once did."
Fernando slammed the glass onto the desk, shards scattering across the polished wood. His voice dropped into a growl, the sound of a predator cornered yet still dangerous.
"So the Veterico bastard wants war." He leaned forward, eyes glinting with menace. "Then war he shall have. But make no mistake—before Aaron lays a hand on me, I'll rip apart everything he loves. Mina. His brat. Even his loyal mutt Ken. He will taste loss the way I tasted betrayal."
He turned to the window, staring out at the night, his reflection cold and monstrous. "Prepare the men. Fortify the docks. If Aaron Veterico thinks he's the hunter, then let him come. I'll be waiting in the dark with the knife already at his throat."