The Damned Path: Chronicles of Damien

I should've known Kross wouldn't take the hit lying down.

It started with a call in the middle of the night. Leo answered first, and by the time he tossed the phone to me, his face was pale.

"It's Razor," he muttered. "It's bad."

I grabbed the phone. Razor's voice was hoarse, his breathing heavy. "That bastard hit my place."

My grip on the phone tightened. "Kross?"

"Yeah." A shaky inhale. "My men are dead, Damien. He didn't send his usual thugs—this was different. Precise. Like he knew everything about my setup."

I exhaled through my nose, pacing. "Are you hit?"

"Scraped, but I got out. Barely." A pause. "Kross left a message for you."

The hairs on my neck rose. "What message?"

Razor's voice turned ice cold. "Come see for yourself."

The warehouse was a massacre. Blood soaked the floors, bodies slumped over crates of what used to be Razor's supply. The air reeked of gunpowder and something worse—burnt flesh.

And then I saw it.

Scrawled across the back wall, in thick, dripping letters, was a message:

YOU STARTED THIS. I'LL FINISH IT.

Leo cursed under his breath, but I barely heard him. My jaw tightened as I traced the letters with my eyes. Kross wanted me angry. He wanted me reckless.

It almost worked.

Razor stood beside me, a cut bleeding down his temple. "I lost everything tonight." His voice was steady, but his fingers twitched at his sides. "What's your move?"

I let the silence stretch. Then, slowly, I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag.

Kross thought he could scare me.

He thought wrong.

I turned to Razor. "We hit back."

A grin spread across his bruised face. "Now you're talking."

Leo shifted uneasily. "You sure? We don't know how deep Kross's reach goes."

I exhaled smoke, watching the embers flicker in the dark. "Then it's time we find out."