Damien entered the abandoned warehouse near the outskirts of the city... a place reeking of old metal, dust, and the bitter sting of betrayal. Shadows clung to the corners like lurking memories, but he walked forward without fear. The meeting had been set. A truce, temporary and tense. His cousins were nearby, hidden but ready, watching every angle. This was not just any enemy. This was Anton Reznic—a name associated with blood, control, and brutal decisions base on the intel they got. Thanks to Ivar Castellan, A man Damien had crossed years ago during a war that left too many casualties on both sides.
Anton Reznic leaned against a stack of crates, arms crossed over his chest. His black eyes were unreadable, his frame still towering and built like a bull. Two of his men stood nearby, arme
