In the treacherous jungle of power, loyalty was a rare commodity, often traded in the black market of ambition. Like counterfeit coins gleaming under the moonlight, allegiance could deceive, concealing betrayals ready to strike from behind. Michael Bennett, now leading a small band of rebels against Walter Davis's tyranny, was about to feel the fragility of trust and the putrid stench of treachery in this no man's land, where every ally had the potential to become a serpent coiling around his neck.
The cold threat that slithered out of the phone felt like a death kiss, etched into Michael's mind like a permanent tattoo. "Your mother will regret it." The words were a drill boring deep into his old wounds, resurrecting the ghosts of the past that had not yet fully settled. How did those bas
