The warehouse on the outskirts of the city was a forgotten ruin, abandoned for years. Rusted chains swung from the ceiling, dust coating the remnants of old machinery. It was the kind of place meant for secrets — and for men like Liam Crowe.
A single dim lightbulb flickered above the table where he sat, nursing a glass of bourbon. His face was sharp, weathered by time, a cruel grin tugging at his lips as he scrolled through images on a nearby tablet.
Michael Graze.
Hazel Graze.
His grin widened.
"Pretty little wife he's got," Liam muttered, setting the glass down.
A figure stepped from the shadows — a young woman, her dark hair falling over her face.
"They're not the same easy targets they once were," she warned.
Liam chuckled. "Neither am I."
He leaned back in the chair, the scar running along his jaw catching the light.
"Seven years in the dark," he mused. "Seven years watching them build their empire, thinking they buried me."
The woman hesitated. "Why now?"
Liam's eyes glinted. "Because Vanessa was a fool. She went too fast. Made it personal. I don't make mistakes like that."
He picked up the tablet again, tapping on Hazel's image.
"She's the key," he said softly. "Michael's weakness. And weaknesses are meant to be exploited."
The woman stiffened. "Killing her won't be easy."
Liam shook his head. "Oh, darling, I'm not going to kill her."
A cold smile spread across his face.
"I'm going to break her."
---
Across the city, Michael stared out at the night from his penthouse office, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. Hazel sat on the couch, knees pulled up, watching him in silence.
She'd never seen him like this — rattled, tense.
"Who is he to you?" she asked gently.
Michael let out a breath. "My father's most trusted man. He taught me how to shoot, how to lie, how to run a business built on blood. I was supposed to take over with him at my side."
Hazel frowned. "What happened?"
Michael's gaze darkened. "He turned on us. Sold out my father's allies. Stole millions. Then vanished. My father sent people after him for years… until we assumed he was dead."
Hazel rose and crossed the room, placing a hand on his chest. "So why resurface now?"
Michael's hand covered hers. "Because we've become a threat too big to ignore. And because men like Liam don't die quietly. They wait for the right moment to strike."
Hazel's pulse quickened. "Then we strike first."
Michael gave a bitter chuckle. "That's the problem, darling. You don't find Liam Crowe. He finds you."
A chill settled between them.
But Hazel straightened, fire in her eyes.
"Then let him come. Because this time, I'm not the girl from before."
Michael looked down at her — and for the first time in hours, a small, dangerous smile curved his lips.
"That's what scares him."
And somewhere, in the shadows of the city, Liam Crowe was already watching...