He who brings hell

The Black Spire

**Kael’s POV**

The Black Spire

They called it The Black Spire, a monolith of steel and shadow that stabbed into the night sky like the blade of a god. Every soul in Ravencourt City knew the name, but no one dared whisper it after dark. Rumors said the walls themselves had heard too many screams to stay silent. The place wasn’t just deadly… it was cursed. Police wouldn’t cross its threshold. Government agents avoided it like the plague. Even mafia bosses who ruled the underworld like kings kept their crowns far from its gates.

Some said it was haunted by the ghosts of the men who’d died trying to conquer it. Others claimed it was still alive—breathing, watching, judging anyone who got too close.

I’d been to a lot of dangerous places in my life, but as I stepped out of the car and looked up at the towering glass-and-iron giant, I even felt it—that crawling weight pressing into my chest, daring me to take the next step.

The front was swarming with security. Not your typical bodyguards. These men were legends in their own right—once the most feared contract killers, retired war dogs who had painted foreign deserts red, mafia enforcers whose names were still whispered in back alleys. Their faces were carved from stone, their movements were sharp.

They wore tailored black suits, but beneath the fabric, I could see the faint bulges—shoulder holsters, knife sheaths, concealed. Every man here was a walking armory, smiling like polite gentlemen while holding the capacity to end a life in seconds.

As I approached. Their eyes swept over me—cold, calculating, searching for weakness.

One of them finally spoke, his voice like gravel scraping metal.

“Who the hell are you?”

Before I could answer, the deep, impatient honk of a car horn echoed behind me. I turned my head just enough to see a sleek Bentley Mulsanne rolling up the street. Then a man stepped out — dressed head to toe in a sharp, mustard-yellow suit.

He didn’t look at me at first. He walked past, offering a few casual nods to the guards, who seemed to recognize him immediately.

“Evening, gentlemen,” he said smoothly, before adding, “I’m here to see Hawkthorne.”

The name made my stomach tighten.

Hawkthorne?

The fact that someone casually dropped a name like that here, in front of Black Spire’s gates, told me this man wasn’t just a random visitor. He had ties deep enough to reach into this fortress of sin.

One of the guards narrowed his eyes. “You got an appointment with Hawkthorne?”

The yellow-suited man smiled like he was humoring a child. “Yes. It’s about the reconstruction project he promised me. Tell him I’m here.”

That reminded me of something I’d once overheard about Black Spire — how it wasn’t just a den for killers and mercenaries. The richest of the rich, the power-hungry politicians, the desperate billionaires — they all came here, crawling on their knees when they needed help from one man.

Dr. Milton Carroway.

The devil of Ravencourt.

“Alright,” the guard finally said. “We’ll call him.”

Just then, the man in the yellow suit turned his head toward me. His smirk widened.

“Well, well… Kael Maddox.”

My gaze sharpened. “Do you know me?”

He chuckled darkly. “Who wouldn’t know a traitor like you? The whole of Ravencourt knows what you did. How you betrayed your unit and killed them all.”

I stayed silent, my jaw locked.

“What? Nothing to say?” he pressed.

“I’ve got my own perspective,” I replied evenly. “Anything I say would mean nothing to you.”

His eyes narrowed, then he leaned closer, his voice dripping with mockery. “You and your brother Darren… the same shameless blood. Selling yourselves to the rich. Pathetic.”

Before I could answer, the heavy black doors of Black Spire groaned open.

A woman stepped out, and for a moment, the street seemed to hold its breath. She was tall, her black satin dress clinging to her curves like it had been poured on. A thigh-high slit revealed just enough skin to burn into a man’s mind.

The man in yellow’s eyes lit up with hunger as she approached.

“Gentlemen,” she purred, her voice warm and dangerous. She stopped in front of me, tilting her head. “And who might you be looking for?”

I met her gaze without blinking. “I'm looking for Viper.”

The reaction was instant. Every single guard around us moved in perfect synchronization, guns snapping up to aim at my chest.

“Kneel,” one barked. “Or we drop you right here.”

The man in the yellow suit froze, fearing replacing his arrogance, and dropped to his knees without a second thought.

I stayed standing.

“Kneel!” another voice roared, safety clicks echoing like a countdown to my execution.