Reed had always trusted his instincts.
They were the reason he was still alive.
In his world, hesitation meant death. Loyalty meant nothing. And trust was a weakness only fools believed in.
That night, something felt wrong.
He stood in the large office on the second floor of his private club downtown, staring through the glass window that overlooked the city lights. The club was alive beneath him—music pulsing, people laughing, money flowing like water.
But Reed wasn't paying attention to any of it.
His eyes were cold and distant.
One of his men stepped into the room carefully.
"Boss?"
Reed didn't turn around.
"How many men are outside?" he asked quietly.
"Twelve," the man replied.
"And the street?"
"Clear."
Reed finally turned to face him.
"Clear?" he repeated.
"Yes."
Reed walked slowly toward the desk.
Nothing about tonight felt clear.
Over the past few days, things had started to shift. Small things at first. Too small for most people to notice.
But Reed noticed everything.
Two shipments had arrived later than scheduled.
One of his informants had stopped answering calls.
And earlier that evening, a black car had been parked outside the club for nearly twenty minutes before quietly driving away.
Maybe it was nothing.
Or maybe someone was watching him.
Reed leaned against the desk and folded his arms.
"Where's Carter?"
"Downstairs."
"Bring him."
The man nodded and left.
A few minutes later another man entered the room. Carter was older than most of Reed's crew. Quiet. Observant. One of the few people Reed trusted.
"You wanted to see me?" Carter asked.
Reed studied him carefully.
"You ever get that feeling something's about to happen?"
Carter shrugged slightly.
"In our line of work? Every day."
Reed gave a faint smirk.
"This one feels different."
Carter stepped closer.
"What kind of different?"
Reed walked to the window again.
"Like someone's moving pieces on the board."
Carter thought for a moment.
"You thinking about Marcus and them?"
Reed's expression hardened slightly.
Marcus.
Malik.
Darius.
Three names that still floated around the edges of his thoughts.
They had walked away from his organization months ago.
But Reed knew better than to assume they had simply disappeared.
Men like them didn't disappear.
They waited.
"You think they're planning something?" Carter asked.
Reed didn't answer immediately.
Finally he said quietly,
"I think someone is."
Across the city, inside the abandoned warehouse, Malik studied the same map again.
The table was covered with equipment now.
Two rifles.
Handguns.
Extra magazines.
Marcus sat nearby cleaning one of the rifles carefully.
Darius leaned against a crate, watching them both.
"You know," Darius said, "most people our age are worrying about jobs and rent."
Marcus smirked.
"And we're planning an assassination."
Darius chuckled dryly.
"Life's funny like that."
Malik didn't laugh.
He was focused.
Marcus glanced at him.
"You've been staring at that map for an hour."
Malik finally spoke.
"We only get one shot at this."
Marcus nodded.
"Then we make it count."
Darius shifted slightly.
"You're sure about Reed's route?"
Malik tapped the map.
"Victor confirmed it."
Neither Marcus nor Darius said anything for a moment.
Victor Salazar.
The strategist.
Even saying his name felt strange.
Marcus finally spoke.
"I still don't like trusting that guy."
Malik looked up.
"We're not trusting him."
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
"Right."
Darius looked between them.
"You really think he's telling us everything?"
Malik shook his head.
"No."
"Then why work with him?"
Malik's voice stayed calm.
"Because he wants Reed gone just as badly as we do."
Marcus nodded slowly.
"That part I believe."
Malik pointed to a stretch of highway on the map.
"This is where Reed's convoy slows down."
Darius leaned forward.
"Construction zone."
"Exactly."
Marcus's eyes lit up.
"So the cars bunch up."
Malik nodded.
"And that's when we strike."
Marcus placed the cleaned rifle on the table.
"Two vehicles. Four guards."
Darius added quietly,
"And Reed."
Malik looked at them both.
"This has to be quick."
Marcus cracked his knuckles.
"It will be."
Darius studied Malik's face carefully.
"You still thinking about your son?"
Malik paused.
Just for a moment.
"Always."
Marcus leaned back in his chair.
"You know… once this is over…"
He gestured vaguely.
"You really leaving?"
Malik nodded.
"Yes."
Darius smiled slightly.
"Chicago, right?"
Malik allowed himself a small smile.
"Yeah."
Marcus chuckled.
"From all this chaos… to O-Block."
Malik shrugged.
"Chaos is everywhere."
Darius laughed quietly.
"Fair point."
But then his expression turned serious again.
"First we deal with Reed."
Malik looked at the map again.
"Yes."
Marcus stood up and grabbed the rifle.
"Three nights."
Darius nodded.
"Three nights."
Malik closed the map slowly.
But inside his mind, something else was bothering him.
Reed was dangerous.
Too dangerous.
Men like Reed rarely walked blindly into traps.
Which meant one thing.
If Reed sensed something…
The ambush could turn into a war.
Back at the club, Reed stood beside his car outside the building.
Carter approached him again.
"Everything's ready."
Reed nodded.
But his eyes were still scanning the street.
Cars passed by.
People walked along the sidewalks.
Normal city life.
Yet the feeling in his gut refused to disappear.
Carter noticed.
"You still thinking about it?"
Reed opened the car door slowly.
"Yeah."
"What do you want to do?"
Reed paused before getting in.
Then he said quietly,
"Change the route tomorrow."
Carter frowned slightly.
"Why?"
Reed finally sat inside the car.
"Because if someone is watching…"
His eyes hardened.
"I want to see who panics."
The car door closed.
And the convoy drove away into the night.
Somewhere across the city…
Malik and his crew were preparing for the biggest move of their lives.
But Reed had just made the first unexpected move.
And the game was becoming far more dangerous.