Chapter 15 - The Final Menu
Three weeks later, the docks at midnight were dead quiet, save for the rhythmic crashing of the Atlantic waves against the concrete pillars.
A massive cargo ship, unflagged and heavily armed, drifted silently into slip four. On the deck, figures clad in tactical black moved like shadows, preparing to unload a shipment of contraband that would flood the East Coast with violence.
They didn't expect anyone to be waiting for them.
As the gangplank dropped, a single figure stepped out from the crane’s shadow, dressed in a sleek black tactical suit. Beside her stood a massive, charcoal-colored beast with a distinct white crescent moon marking on his chest.
The leader of the cartel mercenaries laughed, raising his assault rifle. "Who the hell are you? Where's Castellano?"
Nina didn't answer with words. She raised her two fingers and gave a sharp, crisp whistle—the exact melody of the lullaby her father used to hum.
Grimm surged forward, a streak of pure vengeance in the dark.
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Behind them, dozens of red laser sights flickered on simultaneously across the rooftops, backed by federal strike teams and loyal syndicate enforcers, all waiting for her single command.
Nina smiled into the cold night wind, pulled the slide of her Glock back with a satisfying clack, and stepped forward into the fray. The empire was hers, and nobody was ever going to take it away again.
