The Border
1048 Words
The steel door blew inward in smoke and Manchester rain.
Plaster rained down. Sirens wailed from the estate perimeter.
Damian moved before the dust settled. Rifle up. Three shots. Three men down.
Clinical. No wasted bullets. Manchester rain steamed on hot barrels.
Aria fired beside him. Back straight. Neck high.
Mark + fresh knife line visible under red emergency lights. Rule #13.
Blood from the border line dripped to her collarbone and pooled at her throat.
“East flank down,” a guard shouted. “West wall breached!”
“Let them come,” Damian said. He fired again. Another body dropped.
Twenty seconds. Room clear. Bodies on the floor. Smoke and gunpowder.
He turned slow. Found Danny backed against the monitors. Hands up. Face pale.
“You sold her,” Damian said. Voice flat. He walked slow. Boots crunched on glass.
Grabbed Danny by the throat. Slammed him into the wall. Screens cracked behind him.
“Few days ago,” Damian said. Quiet. Deadly. He forced Danny’s eyes to Aria’s neck.
“She disowned her father a few days ago. Cut him off. Walked away from his empire.”
He squeezed. “But her father is Carter Westwood. Billionaire. Shipping. Real estate. Manchester’s shadow king.”
Aria stepped forward. Pistol steady. Neck exposed. Blood line fresh beside the mark.
“Jack,” she said. Voice cold. No shake. “You said in the footage they’d let Jack live if they got me. Where is my brother?”
Danny’s eyes darted. “I— I don’t know—”
Damian pressed the knife flat to Danny’s cheek. Same knife that bordered Aria’s mark minutes ago.
Steel cold. Blood still on the blade.
“Wrong answer,” he said. “Rule #14. Break a rule, I punish you.”
Danny broke. “Jack Carter Westwood,” he choked out. “They have him. Warehouse in Salford Docks.
Her father’s holding him there to force him into the empire. But the crew that attacked us?
They grabbed him 2 hours ago. Said if you don’t hand Aria over by midnight, they start cutting.
They want ransom. Her father’s billions. And they want her back because of the mark.”
Aria’s jaw ticked once. No fear. Just calculation behind her eyes.
Her father wanted Jack to inherit Carter Empire. Jack was 19. Still in uni.
Aria disowned her father 4 days ago through the file she got from jack.Now she wouldn’t be part of “Westwood legacy.”
She also believes Jack deserved to choose his own life, not inherit blood and bullets.
She changed her last name back to her mother’s. Aria Vale.
Thought she was free. Thought Jack would be safe at Manchester Running the empire
She was wrong.
Damian released Danny’s throat. Dropped him to his knees, coughing.
He crouched in front of him. Turned the knife in his hand.
“Her father has money,” Damian said. Eyes on Danny. “Her brother is heir to an empire.
But Aria walked away from both. That should’ve made her worthless to you.”
He grabbed Aria’s wrist. Pulled her forward. Tilted her neck so the mark faced the last working camera.
“So you sold her because of this,” he said. Traced the knife tip along the knife line he’d cut.
“Because Carter Westwood’s daughter wearing Damian Black’s mark means leverage.
Means ransom. Means her father will pay anything for his daughter and his heir.”
Danny nodded frantically. Blood on his lips. “Midnight. Salford warehouse. 8 men. Armed.”
Damian stood. Wiped the knife on Danny’s shirt. Red on white fabric.
He looked at Aria. Really looked at her. At the mark. At the knife line. At the daughter of a king who rejected her crown.
“Rule #15,” he said. Voice low but carrying through the smoke.
“Family of mine doesn’t die. Not on my watch.”
He grabbed her chin. Thumb brushed blood from her collarbone.
“Your father wants Jack to inherit an empire,” he said. “I want Jack to inherit his life.
There’s a difference.”
Aria met his eyes. 4 days ago she told her father “I want out.”
Today the city king was telling her brother got protection too.
Damian turned to his guards. “Burn every frame of her neck from the cameras,” he ordered.
“Every copy. Every backup. Except what I keep.”
He looked back at Aria. “From now on, only I decide who sees the mark.”
He walked past her toward the exit. Stopped at the doorway.
Manchester rain and gunfire in the distance. Salford was 40 minutes.
“Your father built an empire,” Damian said without turning. “But he can’t buy Jack back.
That’s my job now.”
Aria followed him. Back straight. Mark visible.
Behind them, Danny whispered, “Carter Westwood will burn Manchester to get her back…”
Damian stopped. Didn’t turn around.
“Good,” he said. “Then Manchester burns. But Jack walks out alive.”
He pulled the trigger on the incendiary. The safe room went up in flames behind them.
In the armored SUV, rain hit the windows. Damian loaded extra mags. Checked Aria’s pistol.
Driver spoke from front: “Salford warehouse. 8 men confirmed. 37 minutes to midnight.”
Damian chambered a round. Looked at Aria’s neck in the red light.
Mark + knife line. Border set.
“Your father is shaping Jack to take over,” Damian said. “Tonight we teach him
that the Westwood heir answers to me now. Not to an empire. To me.”
Aria loaded her own magazine. Click. “Jack wants out too,” she said. First words since the attack.
“He told me last week he doesn’t want the empire. He wants to be free like me.”
Damian nodded once. “Then we get him out. Both of you.”
He leaned over. Brushed his thumb over the mark on her neck.
“Westwood empire means nothing here. In Manchester, the only empire is mine.
And you and Jack are under it.”
The SUV peeled out toward Salford Docks. Toward Jack. Toward midnight.
Behind them, the mansion burned. Danny’s screams faded into fire
- Writer
