Chapter 6 - The Fall of the HoundChaos erupted in Warehouse 4 with the deafening roar of gunfire and the terrifying crunch of bone.
Nero hit the concrete floor like a cannonball, plowing directly into Marcus before the hulking enforcer could fire a single round. The mastiff’s massive jaws clamped onto the guard's forearm with bone-crushing force, sending his weapon clattering across the slick floor. Sal tried to swing his submachine gun toward the beast, but a second later, a bullet cracked through the air from above.
Paxton stood on the catwalk, smoking a cigarette he had calmly lit moments before, lowering a silenced pistol with practiced ease. Sal dropped instantly, a clean red hole piercing his shoulder, sending him crashing into a stack of wooden crates.
Corbin backed away, his face twisted in absolute disbelief and raw terror. His elite security detail—men who had slaughtered rivals across three continents—were being systematically dismantled in seconds by a single dog and a boy he had dismissed as a coward.
"Traitor! Animal!" Corbin screamed, raising his pistol and firing wildly toward the gantry. The bullets sparked harmlessly against the steel railing inches from Paxton's boots.
Lena didn't wait for Corbin to empty his clip. She bounded down the metal exterior stairs of the gantry with feline agility, her boots hitting the concrete floor with a sharp, rhythmic snap.
Corbin turned his gun toward her, his hands shaking violently. "Stay back, you little bitch! I'll put you back in the fire!"
"You've had ten years to look over your shoulder, Corbin," Lena said, stepping into the harsh light of the halogen lamps, her amber eyes locked onto his dilated pupils. "Did you ever sleep peacefully? Did every shadow in this city look like my father coming back to collect?"
"Shut up!" Corbin screamed, pulling the trigger.
Click.
Empty. The slide locked back.
Corbin stared at the weapon in horror. Before he could reach for his backup piece, a massive, warm weight slammed into his chest from behind.
Nero hit him with the force of a speeding truck. Corbin crashed backward onto the concrete, his breath expelled in a sharp, agonizing wheeze as the hundred-and-fifty-pound beast planted two massive paws squarely on his sternum.
The mastiff lowered its scarred muzzle inches from Corbin’s terror-stricken face. Saliva dripped from the dog's jaws onto Corbin's expensive silk tie. Nero didn't bite. He didn't tear out his throat. Instead, the dog let out a deep, vibrating growl that rattled Corbin's teeth, pressing down with calculated, suffocating pressure until Corbin began to turn blue.
Paxton walked over slowly, standing beside Lena as she looked down at her uncle with absolute, chilling detachment.
"Please," Corbin choked out, his hands clawing weakly at the concrete. "Lena... family... we're family..."
"Family?" Lena whispered, stepping closer, her voice like cracking ice. "When you locked my father in his study and turned on the gas, did you think about family? When you threw those quarters at me in the Tribeca mud, did you think about family?"
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She crouched down beside the pinned crime lord, her face inches from his.
"You didn't break me, Corbin. You just reminded me who I am."
