THE HOSTAGE'S DILEMMA
The muscles in my forearms burn as I curl the weights, but the pain is a welcome distraction, channeling my rage into something productive.
I vow it in my mind, a silent, ironclad promise that echoes in the cavernous gym. I will ruin him. I will chip away at his empire, piece by agonizing piece, until there’s nothing left but dust. I will expose his weaknesses, exploit his vulnerabilities. And then, when he’s at his lowest, when he’s lost everything he holds dear, I will kick him out. Out of the Ash mafia, out of his position, out of this family’s power structure. He won’t even see it coming, blinded by his arrogance. He will learn to regret the day he ever underestimated me.
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