Chap 4

Cassius's POV

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"Get everyone on the lookout, I would be there in ten minutes." I said into the phone, locking my apartment door behind me. My gaze drifted to Zara’s door across the hallway. Annoying bitch. Her audacity grated on my nerves, but I couldn’t deny that it intrigued me. Most people cowered before me, their fear obvious, but she? She had a fire I couldn’t quite extinguish.

"What if they start before you get here?" Shadow’s voice, steady yet urgent, broke through my thoughts. My head of security wasn’t one to panic, but even he knew the stakes tonight were high.

"Just wait for me," I replied firmly, heading to the elevator. My tone brooked no argument. "But make sure everyone is safe. No screw-ups."

"Understood, sir," Shadow answered. I tapped my AirPods, cutting the call, and stepped into the elevator.

Once outside, I waved over one of the guards. He approached swiftly, head bowed in deference. "Take the alternate route to the back of the All Enjoyment Club. Stay in position until I signal," I instructed. He nodded sharply, relaying the orders to the others before they sped off in my black SUVs.

"Let’s go," I told my driver as I slid into the car. The engine roared to life, and we cut through the city streets toward the club.

When we arrived, I bypassed the chaos of the main floor, heading straight upstairs where Shadow awaited. His tall frame was tense, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd below.

"I think it’s happening downstairs," he said, voice low and I nodded.

"Lead the way," I commanded. Shadow didn’t hesitate, weaving through the crowd with me close behind. The pounding music and flashing lights only sharpened my senses.

We reached the lower level just in time to witness a woman holding her own against two men. Her movements were fluid and precise, her strikes calculated. Damn. A woman with skills like that wasn’t ordinary. My lips twitched in amusement, but the moment didn’t last as she turned away from them. But one of the men suddenly grabbed her leg, dragging her backward as she fell. Before I could intervene, Shadow delivered a swift kick that sent the assailant sprawling.

"Drag them out to the van and signal the guards," I ordered, my voice cold. Shadow obeyed, hauling the men away. My gaze swept the area, but the woman had disappeared. Damn it. I should’ve stopped her. I need to know where she belonged. But that wasn’t why I was here.

As I moved further into a dark spot, I spotted more men hauling unconscious women toward the exits. To a casual observer, it might look like drunken girls being escorted out. To me, it was an all-too-familiar tactic. Bastards. Human trafficking in my city? Unacceptable.

Apparently, I heard some unknown bastard trafficked women last week and was gonna traffic some other set tonight. That was what brought me here. I can't let innocent ladies be a victim of some hungry bastard who is only concerned about making money.

I blocked the path of one of the men. He glared at me, his irritation quickly turning to fury. "Who the hell are you?" he spat, his voice laced with arrogance.

I responded with a slap that left him stumbling, his mouth agape in shock. His companion froze, clearly unsure whether to flee or fight. Before he could decide, the first man lunged at me. I sidestepped easily, sending him crashing into a waiter.

Poor guy. Wrong place, wrong time.

Grabbing the man by his collar, I delivered a series of punches, each one harder than the last. His groans filled the room, but I didn’t stop until he slumped to the floor, defeated.

"Sir..." Shadow’s voice cut through the haze of my fury. I turned to see him standing with my few guards.

"Get the women to safety. Take these bastards to the dungeon," I ordered, wiping blood off my knuckles with the man’s shirt. Shadow nodded, and the guards dragged the men away. My night was far from over.

****

At my warehouse, the two men from earlier were tied to poles, black cloths over their faces. Shadow stood nearby, his stance alert. I gestured for him to remove the coverings.

"Who are you working for?" I asked, crouching before them. My tone was deceptively calm.

One of them, brown-haired man, who looked American sneered. "What makes you think we’re working for anyone?"

I smiled faintly. "Because I know your kind. Now, talk. Who sent you?"

"And what makes you think we’ll tell you, bastard?" he snapped. His bravado was laughable.

I walked to my tools and selected a gun. Returning, I pointed it at him. "You’re going to talk."

"Do your worst, bastard" he hissed.

I changed my gun's direction to the other guy and fired without hesitation, the bullet tearing through the other man’s leg. His agonized scream echoed through the room. "You should’ve killed me instead!" the American man gasped.

"Don’t worry," I said coldly, and signalled to Shadow who nodded and left. "I will. But not yet."

Shadow entered, carrying a pot of blazing fire. I dropped my gun and he handed me an iron rod, which I plunged into the flames. The hiss of heating metal filled the silence. I crouched in front of the American.

"Last chance," I warned.

He spat on the floor. "Go to hell."

"Untie him," I said. I was gonna mark him untied. Shadow obeyed, his movements precise. The other man, still tied, panicked as I brandished the rod in front of them.

"I’ll talk! Just let me go!" he pleaded. I nodded, feigning agreement.

"The person who sent—" His words ended abruptly as a gunshot rang out. Blood splattered, and his lifeless body slumped forward.

The American let out a dark laugh, holding a gun he’d snatched during the chaos. Bastard. He had shot his colleague. He pointed the gun at me, but before he could fire, one of my guards shot his leg. He fell, howling in pain, the weapon clattering away.

"Tie him back," I barked. Shadow swiftly complied.

I picked up the iron rod, now glowing red. "Normally, I mark my kills after they’re dead. But for you, I’ll make an exception."

His eyes widened as I pressed the rod to his forehead, carving the letter "M." His screams reverberated, but I didn’t stop until the mark was complete.

"Who sent you?" I demanded again, my voice a growl.

"We sent ourselves," he whispered hoarsely, pain dulling his defiance. He doesn't look like he's going to talk.

Disgusted, I fired a single shot into his marked forehead, silencing him forever.

Bastard.