The Devil of The City
1148 Words
The city had many rulers.
Politicians claimed power from behind polished desks. Wealthy businessmen pulled strings through contracts and quiet meetings. Street gangs fought over corners, territories, and scraps of respect.
But there was only one man the city truly feared.
Adrian Black.
His name moved faster than bullets.
It traveled through alleyways and luxury penthouses alike, whispered in nightclubs, muttered in police stations, passed between trembling lips in crowded markets. Mothers warned their sons about him. Fathers prayed their daughters would never cross his path. Criminals avoided his territories. Honest people avoided his shadow.
Adrian Black was not just a mafia boss.
He was the devil of the city.
He ruled from the dark, not from a throne. His empire stretched through underground networks, illegal arms, private security firms, construction companies, and banks that looked clean on paper but bled corruption behind closed doors. His reach was invisible yet absolute. You could live your entire life without seeing him, but his influence still shaped where you worked, how much you earned, and whether you made it home safely at night.
And if Adrian Black wanted you gone?
You vanished.
No loud headlines. No dramatic trials. No bodies left in the street.
Just silence.
People disappeared the way smoke vanished into air.
Tonight, rain washed the streets in silver.
Neon signs flickered above puddles, reflecting broken colors across cracked sidewalks. Traffic hummed in the distance, horns echoing between tall buildings. Somewhere, music spilled out of a bar. Somewhere else, a woman laughed too loudly, trying to forget her troubles.
Inside a black armored SUV, Adrian Black sat in perfect stillness.
The interior was quiet except for the soft rhythm of rain tapping against bulletproof glass. His men occupied the other vehicles in the convoy, their engines purring like restrained predators. They moved through the city with practiced precision, ignoring traffic laws that no longer applied to them.
Adrian didn’t look out the window.
He didn’t need to.
He knew these streets better than anyone. Every corner held memories. Every building had history. He had built his empire brick by brick, betrayal by betrayal, blood by blood.
He wore a tailored black coat over a dark suit, his posture relaxed but alert. His hands rested loosely on his knees. A silver ring glinted on one finger, catching the dim interior light.
His face was carved from sharp lines and controlled restraint.
Dark eyes. Cold. Calculating.
A jaw set like stone.
He wasn’t handsome in the gentle way movie stars were. His beauty was dangerous, edged with violence and authority. The kind that made people straighten their backs instinctively. The kind that warned you not to get too close.
Scars told quiet stories along his knuckles and near his collarbone. Each one earned. Each one remembered.
To the world, Adrian Black was a monster.
To his enemies, he was death.
To his men, he was law.
“Boss,” the driver said softly. “We’re five minutes out.”
Adrian gave a single nod.
Five minutes until judgment.
The warehouse sat at the edge of the industrial district, surrounded by abandoned factories and rusted shipping containers. No streetlights reached this far. Darkness swallowed the road.
Two men waited inside.
They had stolen from Adrian.
It was a small amount of money, insignificant compared to his fortune.
But it wasn’t about money.
It was about disrespect.
The SUV doors opened. Adrian stepped out into the rain.
Immediately, his men formed a perimeter. Black umbrellas appeared, one held over Adrian’s head. Their eyes scanned the shadows, hands resting near concealed weapons.
The warehouse doors creaked open.
Inside, the air smelled of oil and fear.
The two men were tied to metal chairs under harsh overhead lights. Their faces were pale, their clothes soaked with sweat. One was crying quietly. The other stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, trying to look brave.
Adrian walked toward them slowly.
Each step echoed.
The crying man lifted his head first.
His eyes widened.
“No,” he whispered. “Please. Please—”
Adrian stopped in front of them.
He studied them the way a scientist examined insects.
Calmly. Dispassionately.
“You took something that didn’t belong to you,” Adrian said, his voice low and even.
The brave one swallowed. “We—we were desperate.”
Adrian tilted his head slightly.
“Everyone is desperate,” he replied. “That doesn’t make you special.”
He gestured once.
One of his men stepped forward and handed him a thin folder.
Inside were photographs. Bank records. Addresses. Names.
Adrian flipped through them without emotion.
“You moved the money through three shell accounts,” he continued. “You thought you were clever.”
The crying man sobbed openly now.
“We’ll give it back,” he begged. “Every cent. I swear.”
Adrian closed the folder.
“That was never the problem.”
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the back of the metal chair between them.
The brave one flinched despite himself.
“When you work under my protection,” Adrian said quietly, “you live by my rules. When you break them, you teach others that I can be challenged.”
He straightened.
“I can’t allow that.”
The brave man finally broke.
“Please,” he whispered. “I have a family.”
Adrian’s eyes didn’t change.
“So did I,” he said.
Silence fell.
He turned and walked away.
Behind him, gunshots echoed through the warehouse.
Outside, the rain continued to fall.
Adrian didn’t look back.
By the time he returned to the SUV, his hands were clean.
But his soul had been stained a long time ago.
As the convoy pulled away, Adrian leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
Faces from his past drifted through his mind.
His first love, who had left him for a safer life.
A woman who had betrayed him to the police.
Another who had tried to use his power for her own ambition.
Each heartbreak had carved another wall around his heart.
Love had been his greatest weakness.
So he had buried it.
Now, women came and went through his life like passing storms. None stayed long. None touched him deeply. He offered them luxury, protection, fleeting attention.
But never his heart.
Because hearts could be broken.
And Adrian Black had learned the cost of vulnerability.
He opened his eyes as the city lights returned.
Crowds moved along sidewalks, unaware of how close death had been moments ago. Vendors sold food. Couples argued. Teenagers laughed.
Normal life continued, ignorant of the devil watching from tinted windows.
Somewhere out there was a girl who feared no one.
But Adrian didn’t know that yet.
He only knew the city was his.
And he was alone at the top.
The devil of the city didn’t believe in soft spots.
Not anymore.
- Writer
