The Damned Path: Chronicles of Damien

The ride back to my place was quiet—too quiet. Leo sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window like he was somewhere else entirely. Maybe he was. After everything Kross had done to him, I couldn't blame him for checking out of reality.

Still, his silence was eating at me.

"You gonna say something, Leo?" I finally asked, keeping my eyes on the road.

He didn't answer right away. His fingers tapped against his leg, restless. "You think burning down Kross's warehouse will stop him?"

I let out a humorless laugh. "No. But it sent a message."

Leo turned to me, his face pale under the passing streetlights. "What if he sends a message back?"

I smirked, but it didn't reach my eyes. "Let him. I'm done playing defense."

Leo shook his head. "You're always like this. You think you can take on the whole world alone." His voice cracked, and for a second, I saw the kid he used to be. Not the broken man Kross had turned him into.

I didn't answer. Because maybe he was right.

When we got home, Ghost was already waiting, leaning against the kitchen counter like he owned the place. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Leo, but didn't say a word. I appreciated that.

"You should sit down," I told Leo, motioning toward the couch. "I'll handle this."

Ghost followed me into the kitchen, away from Leo's ears. "So," Ghost said, lighting a cigarette. "What's the next move, boss?"

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed. Unknown number.

I hesitated, then answered. "Yeah?"

A familiar voice, cold and smooth. Victor.

"I take it you've had time to think about my offer," he said.

I glanced at Ghost, who was now watching me closely.

"Maybe," I said carefully. "But I don't trust you."

Victor chuckled. "Smart man. But trust isn't required. Just a mutual understanding. You want Kross gone. So do I. Work with me, and I'll give you everything you need to bring him down—his routes, safehouses, even the men who'd betray him for the right price."

"And what do you get in return?" I asked, though I already knew.

Victor's voice darkened. "When Kross falls, I take his place. And I expect you to stay out of my way."

So that was it. Trading one devil for another.

I hung up without a word.

Ghost exhaled smoke, watching me. "That was him?"

I nodded. "Victor wants to help take Kross down. But he's not doing it out of kindness."

"Of course not." Ghost leaned forward, eyes sharp. "So, what's the play?"

I ran a hand through my hair, thinking. "We use him. Take everything he gives us. And when Kross is ashes... we make sure Victor doesn't get to enjoy the throne."

Ghost smiled, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I like that."

Before I could say more, I heard Leo's voice from the other room. "Damien? Someone's outside."

I grabbed my gun and moved to the window. A sleek black car was parked across the street—windows tinted, engine running.

Victor's message was clear: he was watching.

I stepped back, jaw tight. "Tell Leo to get some rest," I told Ghost. "We've got work to do tomorrow."

Ghost nodded. "What's first?"

I looked out at the car one last time before pulling the curtains closed. "We hit Kross where it hurts—his money, his people, his reputation. And if Victor wants to help? Fine. But when this is over, I'm coming for him too."

Ghost grinned. "Now that sounds like a plan."

As I stood there, gun in hand, I realized something. This war wasn't just about Kross anymore. It was about everyone who thought they could own this city.

And I was done being owned.