“And what business does someone from the MC Angelo syndicate have lurking in this part of town?” The words were spat out as a bruised and bloodied man was thrown to the dusty ground in front of a group of rugged men. Their leader stepped forward—a gaunt, hardened figure with scars etched across his cheek, running down to his jawline like a twisted badge of honor.
The man on the floor groaned, his body trembling as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. He tried to push himself up, but a sharp blow to the ribs knocked him down again. He collapsed to his knees, breathing hard.
“I didn’t come here to start a war,” he rasped. “I come in peace.”
The scarred man let out a cold, humorless laugh, the sound carrying across the dark alley. His crew followed, their mockery echoing in the nar
