2025-03-11 15:58:47
Previous Chapter
Related Chapters
The Hustler’s Gamble 58: no more hiding
The air inside the safe house was thick with tension. Jamal paced the length of the room, his mind racing. Malik sat on the couch, his fists clenched, his brother resting beside him with a bandage wrapped around his head. Khalil reloaded his gun in silence, while Nadine watched Jamal, waiting for him to speak.The Broker had made his move. And now, they had no choice but to hit back—hard.Jamal stopped pacing and turned to the team. “We can’t play defense anymore. We go after him. Full force.”Khalil nodded. “The problem is, we still don’t know where he is.”Malik exhaled sharply. “Then we find someone who does.”Jamal smirked. “Exactly.”There was only one man left who could lead them to The Broker—Nnamdi Ikenna.A name that carried weight in Lagos’ underworld. A man with deep ties to politics, business, and crime.And more importantly, a man who never stayed in one place for long.A High-Stakes InfiltrationNnamdi wasn’t like the other Syndicate members they had faced. He operated i
The Hustler’s Gamble 59: no way out
Jamal’s pulse pounded in his ears as the weight of the moment settled on him. The Broker’s lifeless body lay at his feet, his blood pooling across the sleek marble floor. The echoes of the final gunshot still hung in the air, but something even more ominous had taken its place—the sound of approaching sirens.This wasn’t just any police response. This was a setup.Jamal’s fingers clenched around his gun. He had been in bad situations before, but this was different. This was a high-profile assassination, a crime that would shake the foundations of Lagos’ underworld. If he didn’t move fast, he’d be dead—or worse, rotting in a cell while the real players walked free.Footsteps thundered down the hall.He turned, gun raised, but before he could react, Nadine’s voice cut through the chaos.“Jamal! We have to go!”She emerged from the smoke-filled hallway, her face streaked with dirt, eyes sharp with urgency. Malik and Khalil followed close behind, both breathing hard.Jamal nodded. “Roof.
The Hustler’s Gamble 60: a new deal
The SUV sped through the dimly lit streets of Lagos, weaving through traffic like a shadow slipping through the cracks. The tension inside the vehicle was thick. Jamal sat with his gun still in hand, his injured shoulder throbbing, his mind racing with questions.Who were these men? Why had they saved him?The man in the passenger seat turned to him, his sharp gaze unreadable. “I assume you have questions.”Jamal narrowed his eyes. “No, I just like getting kidnapped.”The man smirked but didn’t respond. Instead, he glanced at the driver. “Take us to the dock.”Jamal exchanged a glance with Nadine, Malik, and Khalil. None of them liked this. But right now, they had no choice.After what felt like an eternity, the SUV pulled into a secluded dockyard. Cargo containers were stacked like tombstones, the air thick with the scent of saltwater and diesel. The vehicle rolled to a stop near a large warehouse, its doors slightly ajar.The man stepped out. “Follow me.”Jamal hesitated, but Nadine
The Hustler’s Gamble 61: Julius strike back
The room was tense. Everyone was quiet, lost in their own thoughts. The heist had gone sideways, and now they were on Julius’ radar like never before.Jamal sat up, wincing as pain shot through his side. Nadine steadied him, but he waved her off. “We can’t stay here,” Malik said, breaking the silence. “Julius will come for us.”Khalil nodded. “He’s not just going to let this go. We took his money, his blackmail material, and almost ended him. He’ll be out for blood.”Jamal exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. The weight of it all pressed down on him. He had expected retaliation, but not this soon.Ibrahim, sitting in the corner, tapped his phone furiously. His face darkened. “We’ve got a problem.”He turned the screen around. On it was a news broadcast.“BREAKING NEWS: Armed robbery in high-security vault linked to criminal underworld. Police sources suspect gang activity.”Jamal’s blood ran cold. The footage showed blurred images of them escaping through the ventilation sys
The Hustler’s Gamble 62: the ambush
The air was thick with gunpowder and tension.Jamal crouched low behind a marble pillar, his heart hammering in his chest as gunfire echoed through the room. The ambush had been perfectly orchestrated. Julius had set them up, and now they were trapped, surrounded by elite mercenaries with military-grade weapons.“Move! Move!” Malik shouted, ducking as bullets tore through the wooden desk in front of him.Jamal scanned the room through the smoke. They had planned for trouble, but nothing on this scale. The Syndicate was done playing games.A burst of gunfire forced Jamal lower as bullets slammed into the pillar behind him. He had no time to hesitate.“We need to find cover and regroup!” he barked.Khalil and Nadine flanked left, moving between the overturned furniture as Malik laid down covering fire. The air was filled with the deafening roar of gunfire, mixed with the sharp scent of burnt metal and blood.Jamal’s eyes darted toward Julius, who was making a break for a hidden door at
The Hustler’s Gamble 63 : the price of war
Jamal’s grip on his gun tightened as Julius smirked at him from the back seat of the van. Blood dripped from the corner of Julius’ mouth, but he showed no sign of fear.“You’re wasting your time,” Julius said, his voice hoarse but laced with arrogance. “The Broker already knows everything.”Jamal’s jaw clenched. The explosions behind them had left a raging fire consuming what was once Julius’ safe house. The streetlights flashed across their faces as Ibrahim drove them through the chaotic Lagos traffic, weaving between cars with expert precision.“He knows we have you?” Jamal asked, his voice calm but dangerous.Julius chuckled, shaking his head. “He knew before you even got here. You think you’re winning, Jamal? You’re a rat in a maze. And the walls are closing in.”Jamal kept his gun trained on Julius’ forehead, but his mind was elsewhere. He knew that the Syndicate wasn’t done with him. Not even close.Malik turned from the front seat, wiping sweat from his brow. “We should kill hi
The Hustler’s Gamble 64: the escape
Jamal’s breath was ragged as he crouched behind a rusted car, blood dripping down the side of his face. Malik’s gunfire echoed through the dark alleyway as The Broker’s guards advanced.“Cover me!” Jamal shouted.Malik and Khalil opened fire, laying down a curtain of bullets that forced the guards to scatter. Jamal’s eyes darted toward The Broker, who stood at the edge of the alley, unfazed by the chaos unfolding around him.“You really think you can stop this?” The Broker called out, his voice calm despite the gunfire. “You’re a mosquito in a hurricane, Jamal. You may have made some noise—but you can’t change the tide.”Jamal gritted his teeth and reloaded his gun. “We’ll see about that.”He popped up from behind the car and fired off two clean shots. One guard went down clutching his shoulder, while another collapsed from a hit to the leg.Malik charged forward, knocking a third guard to the ground and driving his knee into the man’s face. Blood splattered the pavement.The Broker s
The Hustler’s Gamble 65: breaking the broker
Jamal stood over The Broker, watching as he slowly regained consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, the low flicker of the hanging light bulb casting long shadows across the grimy walls of the abandoned warehouse. Blood trickled down the side of The Broker’s face, but his smirk remained.“You’re making a mistake,” The Broker murmured, his voice low and amused.Jamal crouched down, his eyes hard. “Maybe. But it’s the kind of mistake I can live with.”The Broker’s smile widened. “Are you sure about that?”Jamal’s jaw tightened. He grabbed the chair The Broker was tied to and dragged it closer. The metal legs screeched against the concrete floor.The Broker winced at the sound but kept smiling.“Start talking,” Jamal said.The Broker shook his head. “You think you can scare me?”Jamal’s eyes flashed darkly. “I don’t need to scare you.”Khalil and Malik stood behind him, their expressions cold. Nadine leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her eyes sharp.“You know who I am,” The Broker s
Latest Chapter
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
