Beneath the Fox's Claws: Sent To Kill My Father's Enemy

eer

y familiar. It's a carefully planned chaos, a gilded cage throbbing with the collective heartbeat

sations. Laughter, sharp and brittle like shattering glass, floats above the din, emphasized by the click of

tness of imported perfumes-Jasmine, Rose, the sharp tang of Oud,mingles with the robust notes of aged whiskey, the light citrus of gin, and the

al. The sapphire silk pocket square is the only color, a deliberate counterpoint to the darkness in my eyes. A glass of amber liquid

me has

nseen currents,

-called Don of

a useless pi

wise. How can a fool have

to the slightest discord. Even if my body is still healing, it vibrates with a tense readiness, a predatory

y mind, a mantra fueled by two weeks

he discreet comms device. "Boss, as per your request, two fe

he other f

ti and

have sons, no wives. So who ar

girl? Is it a dau

ssociates, looking for any that match the lithe, athletic frame I remembered from the club. The shadow,

to the w

, bo

n't fake. Nothing. But no specific build registers, no face pulls at the corner of my memory. The initial surge of a

Or did she simply not show? The though

uch my lips as I exchange a few words with the aging patriarch o

r, my voice smooth as aged whiskey. "Perha

ent is more than what's here alre

maraderie and barely concealed envy. They believe they know the limits of my pow

greet the guests who have truly given thi

, where a cluster of figures draws the eye like a magnetic pole. A new current of murmurs ripples through the ro

okyo, his tattoos heavily visible beneath the cuffs of his impeccabl

, men whose presence alone could chill the blood. They offer a rare, predatory grin, a silent acknowledgmen

Noire from Paris, her gaze like chipped ice. And finally, the quiet power of Master Chen, the ancient,

olite, even as I feel the palpable shift in the atmosphere around me. The local Dons, the minor players, the am

stronger than ever.

tters. "These are the giants.The

muring

om his father's

see who h

ck, and he app

e fear sink in. They thought I was broken, crippled. They thought my empire was ripe for the takin

rms into a twisted badge of honor. I survived. And not only did I s

should show carefully. Because the very fact of their presence here

iguel Ramirez of the Dominican Republic-representing the American weapon syndicate, whom

t. The