He flicked his lighter closed. It wasn’t lost on me that my brothers smoking habit had increased since he returned to Villain.
“Why aren’t we just killing them?” Luca asked.
I turned the bat once over my palm. “Pride. Ego.”
He gave me a look.
“They’ll live longer as a warning.”
Luca didn’t argue. The nightclub doors opened. A bouncer stepped aside the second he saw us. I tossed the cigarette, still burning, to the ground. Crushed it with my boot. And walked inside.
The crowd was thick but knew to part. Phones were on us the second we stepped inside. A couple Veil lenses flickered and logged our presence, already syncing it to public record.
Good.
Let themwatch.
Three of them stood near the bar, mid-20s, polished suits, dynasty posture without the blood. The kind of men who’d only ever played at power until now. They turned when they saw us. Smirks. Arrogance
The one in the middle raised his drink slightly. “Didn’t expect the Crow Dynasty to send their enforcer for a negotiation.”
“This isn’t a negotiation,” I said.
His smile flickered.
The bat was still slung across my shoulder.
Another guy stepped forward. “What’re you gonna do with that, Crow?”
I looked at him. Twirled the bat once.
“Dental,” And then I spun.
The swing cracked across his jaw, unexpected, vicious, a clean fucking hit that sent him straight to the floor with his teeth clattering across the tile.
The clubfroze.Screams. Gasps. Phones recording. One of the others lunged. I didn’t let him land a hit.
Another swing.
Another drop.
The third backed into the bar. “You’re being filmed.”
“Fuck the public,” I grinned. “You think I care what the city films? Let them. Let every single asshole in this place record what it looks like when a Crow handles betrayal.”
He looked pale. So he fucking should. I stepped closer.
“All they’ll see is a Crow in his fucking city doing whatever the fuck he wants.” My voice dropped. “I let you live. Letthisbe the reminder. ThatImake the call when it ends.”
He didn’t speak. I tossed the bat at Luca. He caught it one-handed.
“Side-fucker,” I muttered.
Luca nodded and walked deeper into the club without another word. I turned back to the one still trying to get up, blood in his mouth.
He tried to speak. I knelt and grabbed his shirt collar.
“You’ve got one week. One. Get your books clean. Get your crew out of this district. Burn contracts. Or next time I bring guns, not warnings.”
