2025-02-22 14:51:40
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The Hustler’s Gamble 21 : A deal with the devil
Jamal hadn’t wanted to call Khalil. Too much history. Too much betrayal. But desperate men didn’t get to be picky. He found Khalil at a high-end lounge in the city. Unlike Jamal, Khalil was still thriving. Dressed in an expensive suit, a glass of whiskey in hand, he looked exactly like the kind of man Jamal had once despised. “You look like hell,” Khalil remarked as Jamal sat down. Jamal didn’t waste time. “The Syndicate took everything.” Khalil raised an eyebrow. “Not surprised.” “You said you knew people. People who worked with them.” Khalil nodded. “I do.” “I need information. Leverage. Something to hit back.” Khalil smirked. “You don’t have the resources to hit back.” Jamal’s fists clenched. “Then help me get them.” Khalil studied him. “You’re asking me to go against people who could destroy both of us.” Jamal didn’t flinch. “They already destroyed me. What do I have to lose?” Silence stretched between them. Then Khalil sighed. “Alright. There might be a way. But you won’
The Hustler’s Gamble 22 : Fire and Blood
Later that night, Jamal met with khalil and Malik in an abandoned warehouse. Malik looked skeptical. “So, what did you give Rico?” Jamal smirked. “Let’s just say I still have friends in the right places.” Khalil shook his head. “You’re playing a dangerous game.” Jamal’s smirk faded. “I know.” Malik sighed. “So what’s next?” Jamal’s expression hardened. “We start taking back what’s ours.” Khalil chuckled. “And how do you plan to do that?” Jamal turned to him. “By hitting them where it hurts.” The fight wasn’t over. It was just beginning. Striking First Two nights later, Jamal stood on the rooftop of an abandoned building overlooking one of The Syndicate’s storage facilities. It was a warehouse near the port, a key part of their smuggling operation. Jamal adjusted the earpiece Malik had given him. “You in position?” Malik’s voice crackled through. “Yeah. Cameras are looped. You’ve got five minutes before someone notices.” Jamal nodded and signaled Khalil, who was waiting b
The Hustler’s Gamble 23: the road to retaliation
Jamal had lost everything before—but this time, he refused to stay down. The Syndicate had pushed him to the edge, and now, it was his turn to push back.The S.S had changed since The Dominion fell. The power vacuum had made the streets more chaotic, and everyone was looking for a new king. Jamal had to make sure they saw him as the only option.But first, he needed to rebuild his empire.And that started with making money.A New HustleJamal sat in Malik’s dimly lit apartment, a map of the city spread out on the table. Khalil leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while Malik clicked through files on his laptop.“We need cash flow,” Malik said. “Fast.”Khalil smirked. “So we’re back to basics?”Jamal nodded. “We do what we know best—hustle.”Malik glanced up. “I’ve been digging around. The Syndicate’s got their hands in a lot—real estate, smuggling, illegal gambling. But the easiest way to hurt them?” He turned the laptop around, showing a list of businesses. “Their money-laundering
The Hustler’s Gamble 24: the counter strike
Jamal had drawn first blood, but he knew The Syndicate wouldn’t let it slide. Taking Vortex had sent a clear message, and now, the real war was about to begin.Sitting in Malik’s apartment, Jamal leaned over a map of the city, his mind racing through every possible move. Khalil sat opposite him, casually flipping a knife between his fingers, while Malik worked his laptop, gathering intel.“They’re going to hit back soon,” Malik said without looking up. “They’ve already tightened security at their other spots. No one’s making a move without direct orders from the top.”Jamal smirked. “Good. That means they’re feeling the pressure.”Khalil exhaled. “Feeling pressure and folding are two different things, bro. We just killed one of their guys. You think they’re gonna sit back?”“No,” Jamal admitted. “They’re going to come for me.”A Sudden AmbushJamal’s prediction came true faster than expected.Three nights after taking Vortex, he was heading to his car after a meeting with a potential
The Hustler’s Gamble 25 : Blood and business
Jamal had secured an alliance with Ogundele, but he knew that promises and handshakes meant nothing without action. The Syndicate wasn’t going to sit back and let him rise again. If he wanted to survive—and win—he had to strike first. A Calculated Strike Jamal, Khalil, and Malik sat in a dimly lit warehouse on the S.S, studying a layout of The Syndicate’s major operations. “They’ve got three key money sources,” Malik said, pointing at the map. “A high-stakes gambling spot in the city,a drug warehouse, and an illegal offshore money laundering hub .” Jamal rubbed his chin. “The gambling spot—how much does it make?” Khalil smirked. “A lot. It’s where politicians and criminals mix. The Syndicate doesn’t just make money from the bets; they control debts, blackmail people, and move cash through the system.” Jamal exhaled. “That’s our target.” Malik frowned. “You sure? If we hit that, it’s war.” Jamal’s jaw tightened. “It already is.” A Night of ChaosThe gambling den was hidden beh
The Hustler’s Gamble 26: the hunt for the kingpin
Jamal knew that if they want to reduce the blood shed, they had to take down the Syndicate’s leader. But first, they had to find out who he was. The problem? No one knew his name. The Syndicate wasn’t like The Dominion. They didn’t parade their power or flaunt their wealth. They moved in the shadows, leaving no loose ends. Jamal, Malik, and Khalil sat in one of Khalil’s apartment, going over every piece of information they had. “We know they own politicians,” Malik said, sipping his beer. “They control businesses, smuggling, and money laundering. But no one has ever seen their boss.” Jamal drummed his fingers on the table. “Every organization has a weak link. We just have to find it.” Khalil leaned back. “And I might know where to start.” Jamal and Malik turned to him. “There’s a man named Pascal,” Khalil continued. “He’s high up in the Syndicate’s money operations. If anyone knows who’s pulling the strings, it’s him.” Jamal nodded. “Where do we find him?” Khalil smir
The Hustler’s Gamble 27 : walking into the lion’s den
Pascal’s confession had given them their first real lead—The Broker’s second-in-command was attending a Syndicate meeting tomorrow night. This was their chance to get closer to the man pulling the strings. But it was also the most dangerous move yet. Khalil leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “You realize what this means, right? We’re walking straight into their den.” Jamal nodded. “I know. But if we don’t take the risk, we’ll always be playing defense. We need to make a move before they do.” Malik sighed, tapping away at his laptop. “I managed to track some online chatter. The meeting’s happening at a private club in Victoria Island. High security, invitation-only.” Jamal smirked. “Good thing we’re not the type to wait for an invite.” The Plan They spent the next few hours crafting their strategy. Step one: They needed an entry. Malik hacked into the club’s security system, accessing their guest list and surveillance. Step two: They needed disguises. Rico, who had
The Hustler’s Gamble 28: caught in the crossfire
Jamal sat in Rico’s backroom, staring at the map laid out before him. The Syndicate had pushed him into a corner, stripping away his resources, his allies, his money. But he wasn’t finished. Not yet. He traced his fingers over a marked location—one of their warehouses in Ajah. A potential target. Malik leaned back against the wall. “We need more intel before making a move. Rushing in blind is how we got burned last time.” Khalil nodded in agreement. “They already know we’re coming. We have to outthink them.” Jamal sighed. They were right. The Syndicate wasn’t The Dominion. These guys were precise, brutal. They didn’t make careless mistakes. If they were watching him, that meant everyone connected to him was at risk. His mind flashed to Nadine. She had already noticed someone following her before. That wasn’t a coincidence. If the Syndicate was tracking him, it made sense they’d keep tabs on anyone close to him. He had assumed she’d be safe, that laying low would keep her out of t
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77: Ghosts in the dark
Jamal sat on the edge of the battered couch in the safe house, his head bowed, hands clasped together. His chest still burned from the heat of the explosion. His ears rang from the sound of the blast, the ghost of it still echoing in his mind. His fingers brushed over a fresh cut on his brow, the sting pulling him back into the present.Khalil paced the room, the tension rolling off him in waves. Nadine sat at the table, nursing a cut on her arm. A bottle of whiskey sat in front of her, untouched.“We had him,” Khalil muttered. His fists were clenched. “We had him in our sights.” Jamal’s jaw tightened. “And he slipped away.”“He won’t stay hidden forever,” Nadine said, her voice sharp. “A man like that can’t resist control for long.”Jamal’s eyes darkened. “That’s what I’m counting on.”The room fell into silence. Rain tapped against the thin windows, a steady rhythm against the sound of their heavy breaths. Jamal’s mind ran through every step of the night. They had gotten close — too
76: the final play and final move
Jamal stood in the darkened hallway of the elite private club in Ikoyi. The black card Amara had given him earlier sat between his fingers, its glossy surface catching the dim light from the crystal chandeliers above. He could feel the weight of the room before he even walked in—the hum of whispered conversations, the tension behind guarded eyes, and the underlying current of danger that ran through the walls like electricity.Malik and Nadine stood behind him, both dressed sharply. Malik wore a dark suit with no tie, his posture relaxed but his eyes cold. Nadine, dressed in a sleek black dress, had her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her hand hovered close to the concealed blade strapped to her thigh.“You sure about this?” Malik asked.Jamal’s jaw tightened. “If they want to play, let’s play.”Nadine’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t a game, Jamal.”Jamal’s smile was cold. “It’s always a game.”The heavy oak doors at the end of the hallway creaked open. A tall man in a tailored black su
75: a new throne
Jamal stood on the balcony of his penthouse in Ikoyi, overlooking the restless lights of Lagos. The air was thick with humidity, the distant hum of the city’s nightlife vibrating beneath his feet. A glass of whiskey sat untouched on the table next to him. He didn’t need the burn of alcohol to feel the weight of what he had done.It was over.The Syndicate was dead.The Broker was gone, taken out in a coordinated strike that left the underworld without a leader for the first time in years. Jamal’s rise to power was no longer a secret whispered in dark corners —it was a fact written in blood.Malik stepped onto the balcony, his expression as sharp as ever. He held a cigarette between his fingers, the ember glowing in the dark. “The last of the Broker’s men are scattering,” he said. “Some tried to regroup. Khalil handled it.”Jamal’s gaze remained fixed on the horizon. “And the money?”“Cleaned and secured,” Malik replied. He took a long drag. “The businesses under the Broker’s control—c
74: the gathering storm
Jamal stood at the edge of the waterfront in Victoria Island, the moonlight reflecting off the black waters of the Atlantic. The salty breeze tugged at his jacket, but his mind was far from the restless waves. His focus was on the phone in his hand and the message that had come through barely an hour ago.“Tomorrow night. The Syndicate meets. Be ready.”From The Broker.He had rattled the foundation of Lagos’ underworld. Now The Broker was forcing his hand. A meeting like this wasn’t just a threat—it was a declaration of war.Malik approached, hands in his pockets. “We sure about this?” Jamal’s gaze remained fixed on the water. “He wants to negotiate.” Malik scoffed. “That’s not what this is. It’s a setup.”“I know,” Jamal replied.Malik stepped closer. “Then why are we walking into it?”“Because he wants me to believe I don’t have a choice.”Malik’s eyes darkened. “And do you?”Jamal slipped his phone into his jacket. “We’ll see.”Behind them, Khalil and Nadine stood at the edge of t
73: The broker’s den
Jamal sat in the back seat of the black SUV, his eyes focused on the dark Lagos skyline as they approached the edge of the city. The Broker had finally responded. After months of chasing shadows, breaking down Syndicate operations, and dismantling the power structure beneath him, Jamal had forced The Broker’s hand.Malik drove, his hands tight on the wheel, eyes sharp as they passed through the dimly lit streets. Khalil sat in the passenger seat, his pistol resting on his lap, eyes scanning the road for any signs of a tail. Nadine was seated next to Jamal, her body tense, a compact submachine gun strapped across her chest. Julius sat beside her, hands cuffed, his mouth curled into an amused smile.“You nervous?” Julius asked, his tone mocking. Jamal didn’t look at him. “No.”Julius chuckled. “You should be.”The meeting location was in a private estate deep in Ikoyi—a secluded, high-security compound surrounded by electric fences and private security. Julius had arranged the meeting u
72: the broker’s move
Jamal sat in the safe house, the dim light from a single bulb casting shadows across the room. His hands were pressed together, fingers steepled under his chin. The cold steel of his gun rested on the table beside him. Khalil stood by the window, peering through the blinds, while Malik paced the room, his restless energy palpable. Nadine sat on the edge of the couch, her face tense, arms crossed.They had taken out Bako. That was supposed to weaken the Syndicate. Instead, it felt like they had stirred a hornet’s nest.“They’ll hit back,” Khalil said, his voice low. “Hard.”“They already have.” Nadine’s voice was cold. She gestured to the television mounted on the wall.Jamal’s eyes flicked toward the screen. The news anchor’s expression was grim as footage of burning buildings and police barricades filled the screen.“A wave of coordinated attacks swept through Lagos overnight. Multiple businesses and political offices have been targeted, including a car bomb outside the governor’s ma
71: Crashing the meeting
Jamal stood in the shadows outside the estate, his eyes fixed on the tall, wrought-iron gates. Beyond them, the Syndicate’s council was gathering. The estate was massive—a colonial-style mansion set back from the road, hidden behind manicured hedges and an army of security guards. Floodlights lit up the driveway, where black SUVs were lined in perfect rows.Khalil crouched beside him, adjusting the scope on his rifle. “Six guards at the entrance,” he said. “More on the perimeter.”“Cameras on the west and east walls,” Malik added, positioned on Jamal’s other side. He had a knife in one hand and a gun in the other.Nadine knelt behind them, her eyes narrowed. “We could hit them from the east side. Blind spot between the cameras.”Jamal shook his head. “They’ll expect that.” His gaze darkened. “We go in through the front.” Khalil frowned. “That’s suicide.”Jamal’s smile was cold. “No. It’s a message.”Nadine’s mouth tightened. “You sure about this?”Jamal’s eyes sharpened. “It’s the onl
70: A message in blood
Jamal stood at the edge of the rooftop, the lights of Lagos stretching out beneath him in a sea of glittering gold and white. The night air was thick and humid, clinging to his skin like a second layer. His hands rested on the cold steel of the railing as he stared out over the city.Behind him, Malik, Khalil, and Nadine were gathered around a table covered in blueprints, weapons, and burner phones. The safe house was quiet except for the hum of the ceiling fan and the low buzz of tension in the air.Malik tapped a finger on the blueprint. “The estate’s layout is tight. No obvious security, but that’s a trap in itself.”Khalil leaned over the table. “We’d need to breach the perimeter fast and quiet. If we trip an alarm, we’ll have every hired gun in Lagos coming down on us.”Jamal’s gaze was hard. “We’re not breaching anything.”Malik’s head snapped toward him. “What?”Jamal turned from the window. “We’re not sneaking in. We’re walking through the front door.”Khalil frowned. “That’s
69: loose ends
Jamal sat in the back seat of the black SUV, his eyes fixed on the dark cityscape rushing past the window. The night was quiet now, but the adrenaline still hummed in his veins. His hands were steady, but his mind was spinning.The Broker was dead.But his last words haunted Jamal.“You think this ends with me? I’m just the beginning.”Jamal rubbed his hands over his face. He should feel relief. This was the moment he’d been working toward for years—taking down the Syndicate’s shadowy puppet master. But instead of satisfaction, there was only a growing sense of unease.“We need to regroup,” Malik said from the seat beside him. His face was hard, his tone sharp. Jamal lowered his hands. “We’re not finished.”Malik’s gaze sharpened. “You don’t believe him, do you?”Jamal’s jaw tightened. “He had no reason to lie.”Khalil turned from the front seat, his expression grim. “What are you thinking?”Jamal leaned back, his fingers drumming on his knee. “If The Broker was part of something bigg
