Chapter 10
The grand reception hall felt like a beautifully lit tomb. The vibrant colors of the crushed flowers and spilled champagne painted a gruesome picture of the failed coup. Darius crouched beside his defeated cousin, his dark, mahogany skin flawless against the harsh reality of the violence he had just committed.
"You are going to tell me everything," Darius demanded, his voice a lethal, freezing whisper. "You are going to give me the names of every captain who agreed to look the other way. You are going to tell me exactly how you planned to breach my perimeter tonight."
Andre laughed, a wet, rattling sound that brought fresh blood to his lips. He looked up at Darius, his dark eyes filled with a manic, desperate kind of triumph. Even broken on the floor, he believed he still held a winning card.
"You think this is over because you broke my ribs?" Andre wheezed, a bloody smile spreading across his face. "You think Evelyn and I were the only ones who wanted you gone?"
Darius’s jaw tightened. The extremely short, neatly trimmed stubble bristled as he stared at his cousin. He knew Andre wasn't smart enough to orchestrate a massive takeover alone. He needed heavy backing.
"Who is funding you?" Darius asked, his volume incredibly low, the controlled pause highlighting the danger of the question.
"You spent so much time modernizing the syndicate," Andre gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "You pushed out the old guard. You refused to run the narcotic routes. You made a lot of traditional men very angry, Darius. Men with deep pockets and private armies."
Darius stood up slowly to his full, intimidating height. The realization washed over him, cold and absolute. This wasn't just a familial betrayal; this was a coordinated syndicate war.
"The Chicago outfit," Darius deduced, his sharp eyes narrowing into dark slits. "They backed your play."
"They didn't just back it," Andre choked out, rolling onto his side in agony. "They orchestrated it. Evelyn was just the inside man to get the security codes. I was just the distraction to keep you busy today."
Darius went perfectly, dangerously still. The artistic tattoos on his neck shifted as he looked toward the massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the estate's sprawling front lawns.
"A distraction," Darius repeated softly.
"The boats aren't coming tonight, Darius," Andre wheezed, his bloody smile widening into a rictus of terror and awe. "They are already here. They breached the outer gates ten minutes ago while you were playing the protective father."
At that exact moment, the heavy, muffled sound of a distant explosion rocked the foundation of the estate. The crystal chandeliers above them swayed violently, the bright, cinematic light flickering for a brief, terrifying second.
The bodyguards in the room instantly drew their heavy automatic weapons, rushing to the windows.
"Boss!" the lead guard shouted, his voice tight with adrenaline. "Multiple armored vehicles breaching the main driveway! We have heavy incoming fire!"
Darius did not panic. His handsome, movie-star face hardened into a mask of pure, unyielding warfare. He reached into his waistband and drew his customized, matte-black handgun, racking the slide with a sharp, metallic clack. The threat was no longer a shadow in the dark; it was battering down his front door.
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"Hold the line," Darius commanded, his deep voice cutting through the rising chaos like thunder. "No one touches my son. We bathe this house in blood."
The screen faded to black, the impending roar of a full-scale mafia war echoing loudly into the silence.
