Chapter 8 - Blood on the Velvet
The floor erupted into chaos.
Before Marco's guards could reach Narin, the casino lights flickered once, twice, and completely died. Emergency red lights kicked on, casting terrifying, demonic shadows across the velvet walls.
Panic swept through the crowd as screams rang out.
Narin instantly kicked off her high heels, grabbed a heavy metal ice bucket from the bar, and ducked beneath the baccarat table just as gunshots shattered the mirrored walls above her.
BOOM!
The heavy double doors behind the VIP balcony were blown off their hinges with thermal charges.
Through the smoke, Lucian and a dozen loyal Graham enforcers burst into the VIP room, weapons blazing.
Marco Rossy screamed in terror, scrambling backward toward his private elevator. "Kill them! Kill them all!"
Victor tried to run for the emergency exit, but a heavily modified, mechanized transport chair slammed through the smoke-filled doorway.
Declan Graham sat in the chair like a warlord on a throne of steel. In his hands was a suppressed submachine gun.
He didn't need legs to execute a traitor.
Thwip-thwip-thwip!
Victor stiffened, three rounds striking him square in the chest. He fell backward over the roulette table, dead before he hit the carpet.
"Declan!" Marco shrieked, backing against the glass window overlooking the main floor, clutching a gold-plated pistol with shaking hands. "You're a ghost! You're supposed to be dead!"
Declan rolled his chair forward through the smoke, the red emergency lights illuminating the cold, ruthless fury in his eyes.
"I don't die easily, Marco," Declan said, his voice echoing over the screams below. "And you made the mistake of targeting my home... and my people."
Marco panicked, wildly raising his gun—not at Declan, but aiming over the balcony down at Narin, who was emerging from behind the baccarat table to secure the exit. "If I die, the bitch dies with me!"
"Declan!" Narin yelled, seeing Marco's weapon aimed at her.
Declan didn't hesitate. He raised his weapon with terrifying speed and fired a single, precise shot.
The bullet caught Marco Rossy right through the wrist. Marco screamed in agony, dropping his gold gun over the balcony. Before he could recover, Declan drove his heavy motorized chair forward, pinning Marco violently against the reinforced glass railing.
Declan reached out, grabbed Marco by his lapels, and dragged the screaming cartel boss down until their faces were inches apart.
"The city is mine again," Declan hissed into his ear. "Tell hell I sent you."
With a brutal shove, Declan tipped Marco over the low railing. Marco hit the marble floor thirty feet below with a sickening crash.
Silence washed over the Grand Palace Casino.
On the main floor, Narin stood amidst the scattered chips and smoke, looking up at the VIP balcony.
May you like
Declan leaned over the railing, his dark eyes locked onto hers through the haze. He tossed his spent weapon to Lucian, lowered his head, and gave her a single, definitive nod.
It was over.
