"Elena Reed?"
Damon chuckled, his eyes widening at this unexpected revelation.
"You've got to be kidding me," he said, voice dripping with disbelief.
"You wish I was," Rico retorted, his tone cold and unwavering. "But listen closely—stay away from my sister. I won't stand by and let you anywhere near her."
He turned to leave, but Damon's grip was quick and firm, pulling him back.
"Excuse me?" Damon laughed, his voice edged with a dark, chilling undertone.
It would have unnerved most, but not Rico. Mafia boss or not, Rico wasn't intimidated.
"You must be out of your mind if you think I'll take orders from you. Elena Reed is my wife, whether you approve or not!"
Rico's laughter was harsh and mocking.
"Your wife? Don't make me laugh."
"Laugh all you want, but it won't change the fact that my name's on that marriage certificate, dear brother-in-law."
Rico's expression darkened, a storm brewing in his gaze.
"Don't you dare call me that," he snarled.
Damon smiled, clearly pleased by the reaction. "Better get used to it, Brother-in-law."
Rico clenched his fists, the urge to throw a punch almost overpowering.
But he knew he was in hostile territory, surrounded by Damon's men. Starting a fight here would be a death sentence. He took a deep, steadying breath, his voice seething with warning.
"You've been warned. Stay the hell away from my sister." He threw one last glare over his shoulder and walked out.
Damon watched him leave, a mixture of rage and confusion churning within him. But he quickly pushed those emotions aside. There were more pressing matters at hand—a critical shipment arriving tonight, one that meant everything to him and the organization.
Just then, his assistant Noa approached. "Sir, Mr. Lee has arrived."
Damon looked up, spotting Mr. Lee waddling in, his belly noticeably larger than the last time they met.
"Well, if it isn't Mr. Moon himself," Mr. Lee greeted, extending his hand with a grin. Damon shook it warmly.
Mr. Lee glanced around at the disarray in the lobby. "What happened here?"
"Just some family issues," Damon replied, leading him to the private elevator.
Inside Damon's Office
Damon waved off Noa with a curt command. "Leave us."
With a respectful bow, Noa exited, leaving Damon and Mr. Lee alone.
"So, I hear the shipment is due tonight?" Mr. Lee said, getting straight to the point.
"Yes, midnight sharp. I trust your men are prepared?"
"Absolutely. We wouldn't dream of disappointing you, Mr. Moon."
Damon reached into his desk drawer, pulled out a checkbook, and scribbled out a check for five million dollars.
He tore it out and handed it to Mr. Lee. "I expect nothing less than perfection."
"And you'll get it," Mr. Lee replied, tucking the check away with a satisfied grin before he bowed and departed.
No sooner had he left than Zach strode in, his face twisted with a smirk.
"I heard that pesky cop was here?" he asked.
Damon leaned back, sighing. "The girl I married…is his sister."
"What!" Zach laughed. "So, what's your plan?"
Damon fell silent, lost in thought, until his phone buzzed, pulling him back to reality. He read the message from Elena and his posture instantly sharpened.
"Can we meet up?"
Zach blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Damon's intense focus.
"What's up? Should I gear up for trouble?"
"Out," Damon ordered, his eyes still on his phone.
"But I just got here—"
"Zach, I said get out!" Damon's tone left no room for argument.
"Fine, fine," Zach said, throwing up his hands in defeat as he left the room.
As soon as he was alone, Damon replied to Elena's message.
"Sure," he typed.
Her reply was swift. "Eastwood Apartments, Apartment No. 604. Come alone."
He raised an eyebrow. "When?"
"Midnight."
Damon's gaze narrowed. Midnight was precisely when he was supposed to be at the docks for the shipment.
As he considered how to respond, her next message came through.
"Or maybe you don't want to meet up?"
Damon sighed, torn. But after a moment's hesitation, he typed back, "I'll be there."
He'd just delegate someone else to handle the shipment. Meeting Elena was far more pressing.
Elsewhere: Inside a Hotel Meeting Room
"Mr. Lee, what is the meaning of this?" A man slammed his hand on the massive wooden table, his voice echoing with anger.
"Mr. Jackson, calm yourself," Mr. Lee replied, his tone laced with subtle menace.
"No! You promised us more than a mere five million!"
Others around the table murmured in agreement, their faces grim.
Mr. Lee raised his hands, a smile of reassurance playing on his lips. "Gentlemen, I am aware of my promises. And tonight, I intend to fulfill them all."
"What are you planning?" someone asked, eyes narrowing.
"Tonight, during the shipment at the docks, my men will eliminate Damon Moon. By morning, the Black Serpent Mafia will have a new leader."
A ripple of excitement coursed through the room. Damon's death would open doors for them, reshaping the criminal underworld to their advantage.
"And who will take his place?" another asked, curiosity blazing in his eyes.
At that moment, the doors swung open, and a man strode in, exuding an aura of wealth and power. Instantly, every man in the room stood, recognizing him at once.
Gregory Alan, the president's son.
For years, rumors had swirled about Gregory's connections to the criminal world, though his father's team always vehemently denied it. But today, in this room, the truth was undeniable.
Gregory moved to the center of the table, and the others took their seats in respectful silence.
"Allow me to introduce," Mr. Lee announced with a sly grin, "the new boss of the Black Serpent Mafia—Gregory Alan."