The Target
1239 Words
The mansion gates in Didsbury closed with a final metallic groan.
Like a vault sealing shut on Manchester rain.
Aria stepped onto black marble. Head high. Neck exposed.
Rule #13. The mark on her neck caught the crystal light and burned dark purple.
Every guard saw it. That was the point.
Damian walked ahead, jacket off, sleeves rolled. Manchester outside was grey. Inside was ice.
“Stay behind me,” he said. Didn’t look back.
Two guards in tactical gear waited in the main hall. Earpieces. Guns.
Their eyes hit Aria’s neck first. Then dropped. Then hit it again.
“Boss,” the taller guard said. “We have a breach. East perimeter of the estate.”
Damian stopped. “Who.”
“Danny.” The guard’s voice stayed flat. “He sent footage from the quad to 3 groups.
The mark is visible in all of them. They know she’s yours now.”
Aria’s hand twitched toward her neck. Didn’t touch it. Rule #13.
“Danny,” she said. Voice cold. “My ex from 5 years ago. Manchester uni.
He saw the mark at the quad and called his people. He knew what it meant.”
Damian turned. Looked at her neck for 2 seconds.
“He talked because the mark makes you valuable. To me. To them.”
Lights died.
Whole Didsbury mansion went black. Emergency red lights flickered on. Slow.
Alarm screamed through the halls. Manchester rain hit the windows hard.
“Down,” Damian snapped. Shoved Aria behind him as bullets tore through the wall.
Not warning shots. Real bullets.
Guards moved. Guns up. “West corridor compromised! They’re inside the mansion!”
Damian grabbed Aria’s wrist and dragged her into a side study. Slammed the door. Locked it.
He moved to a hidden drawer, pulled a pistol. Click.
Aria backed against the wall. Neck still exposed. No collar. No hair hiding it.
Red lights made the mark look black. Like a brand.
“Why now?” she asked. No panic. Just calculation.
“Because Danny broadcast the mark,” Damian said. Eyes on the door. Listening.
“To every crew in Manchester. ‘Damian Black claimed Aria Carter. She’s valuable.’
Now every man who wants me dead thinks hurting you will hurt me.”
The door handle rattled. Someone tried to force it. Metal screamed.
Damian fired twice through the wood. Lock exploded.
“East passage,” he said. Pulled a book from the shelf.
Bookcase slid aside. Dark tunnel. Cold air. Smell of concrete and old rain.
He pulled her in. Shelf slid shut. Darkness for 2 seconds, then his phone flashlight clicked on.
It lit her neck first. The mark glowed in the beam. Impossible to miss.
“Don’t cover it,” he ordered. Even in a tunnel under Manchester. Even running. Rule #13.
“I’m not,” Aria said. Ran barefoot beside him. Concrete scraped her feet.
Footsteps above through the vents. Men shouting in Manchester accents.
“Find the girl! Look for the mark on her neck! Black branded her!”
Danny’s voice cut through. 5 years later, still his voice from uni days.
“She’s just a girl, Damian! You think that mark scares us? Hand her over!”
Damian didn’t answer. Just ran faster. Pulled her with him through the tunnel under Didsbury.
Aria kept pace. Back straight. Neck high. Mark on display even while running for her life.
“I disowned my father few days ago,” Aria said between breaths.
“When I left Manchester for some time abroad. Cut him off completely. He has nothing to do with this.”
“I know,” Damian said. “They don’t. Danny told them your father had money.
They think you inherited access. The mark proves you’re under my protection.
Which makes you worth more to them as leverage.”
“I have no access,” Aria said. “I left Manchester with 200 pounds and his last name.
That’s all I took when I ran from him.”
“They don’t care,” Damian replied. “Danny told them you were smart.
That you’d hide assets better than him. The mark just confirmed you’d tell me before you’d tell them.”
The tunnel ended at steel. He pressed his palm to a scanner. Door opened.
Aria stumbled into a safe room. 20 monitors. Every camera angle of the Manchester estate.
Men in black masks tearing through her bedroom upstairs.
One monitor showed Danny in her room holding a photo of her from 5 years ago at Manchester uni. Her neck bare in the photo.
He was pointing at it. Talking to other men.
“That’s the mark,” Danny said through the speaker. “Damian Black’s brand.
Means she’s off limits to everyone except him. Means she’s worth ransom in Manchester.”
Damian slammed his palm down. Locked the door. 12 bolts.
Turned to her. Eyes on her neck, not her eyes.
“They saw it,” he said. Finger hovered over the mark but didn’t touch.
“Every man in Manchester saw it today. On campus. On Danny’s footage.
Rule #13 means you can’t hide. Ever. Not in this city.”
Gunfire hit the steel door. Dent. Then another dent. Manchester rain drummed outside.
A voice came through the door. Deep. Manchester accent. Not Danny’s. The leader.
“Give us the girl with the mark, Black.
We know what that symbol means. She’s yours. So she’s leverage.
Give her up and we let your brother live.”
Damian smiled. Cold. Lethal. Manchester king energy.
He walked to a weapons rack. Loaded a rifle. Then picked up a knife.
Not for fighting. For messaging.
He turned to Aria. Lifted her chin with two fingers. Exposed her neck more.
The mark was swollen now. Darker. Angry in the red light.
“Rule #13,” he said quietly. Just for her. “You don’t hide it.
And because of Rule #13, they’ll never stop coming for you in Manchester.
So we stop them first.”
He pressed the knife tip just above the mark. Not cutting. Just resting.
Aria didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. She disowned her father few days ago. She didn’t flinch then either.
“If they want the girl with the mark,” Damian said louder, so they could hear through the door,
“then they come through me. And I don’t negotiate with Manchester trash who touch what’s mine.”
He dragged the knife down. Not deep. Just a line.
From her jaw to her collarbone. Parallel to the mark.
Not damaging it. Framing it. Making it stand out more against her skin.
Aria sucked in air once. That was all.
Damian wiped the blade on his sleeve. Blood on steel.
“Now the mark has a border,” he said. “Now every crew in Manchester knows she’s not just marked.
She’s protected by me. Personally. In my city.”
The door exploded inward. Wood and steel flew. Rain sprayed in.
Damian stepped forward. Rifle up.
Aria stepped beside him. Neck high. Mark + knife line both visible.
Pistol steady in her hand. Back straight.
5 years ago Danny broke up with her in Manchester and walked away.
Today he was at her door with guns, demanding the girl with Damian’s mark.
No tears. No running.
Just Rule #13 on display in Manchester and a king who didn’t bluff.
Damian pulled the trigger.
- Writer
