Mackin sat in his office in the city, staring at the skyline as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the glittering buildings. His thoughts were elsewhere, consumed by the battle he knew was brewing within the family.
He could sense the resistance—feel the undercurrent of fear and resentment from the old guard. But he wasn’t going to back down. Not after everything he had been through.
The door to his office creaked open, and Mackin turned to see Lana standing in the doorway. His breath caught in his throat. She hadn’t changed much in the years since their separation, but her face seemed softer now, worn by guilt and regret. Her once fiery eyes now held a sadness that tugged at Mackin’s heart.
"Mackin," she said softly, stepping into the room. "Can we talk?"
Mackin’s jaw tightened, memories of her betrayal flashing through his mind like a series of painful snapshots. He had once loved her more than anything, trusted her with his heart and his future. But she had chosen the family over him, aligning herself with Bruno and Drake, helping to orchestrate his downfall.
"Why are you here, Lana?" Mackin asked, his voice cool, though his heart pounded in his chest.
Lana closed the door behind her and took a tentative step forward. "I… I wanted to see you. To talk about what happened."
Mackin stood, his hands gripping the edge of his desk. He couldn’t suppress the anger that welled up inside him. "What happened? You mean how you helped them destroy me? How you stood by and let them throw me out like garbage?"
Lana flinched at his words, tears brimming in her eyes. "I didn’t know, Mackin. I didn’t know they would do that to you."
Mackin scoffed, shaking his head. "Don’t lie to me, Lana. You knew exactly what you were doing. You chose them. You chose power over love."
Lana’s lips trembled, her voice breaking. "I didn’t have a choice. They would have destroyed me too if I hadn’t—"
"You always had a choice," Mackin interrupted, his voice rising. "And you chose to betray me."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The tension in the room was thick, the weight of years of pain and regret pressing down on them both. Lana’s tears spilled over, and she wiped them away quickly, trying to compose herself.
"I made a mistake," Lana whispered, her voice barely audible. "I know that now. I’ve spent every day since then regretting what I did. I just… I came here to ask for your forgiveness."
Mackin stared at her, his heart torn between anger and sorrow. He had imagined this moment so many times, wondered how it would feel to see her again, to confront her about what she had done. But now that she was standing in front of him, broken and apologetic, it wasn’t the victory he had imagined. It wasn’t satisfying.
"Lana," Mackin said, his voice quiet but firm. "Forgiveness isn’t something you just ask for and receive. You destroyed my life. You were part of the reason I lost everything."
Lana took another step closer, her eyes pleading. "I know I hurt you, Mackin. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’m asking you to give me a chance to make it right."
Mackin’s hands clenched into fists, his emotions a swirling storm of anger, sadness, and something else—something he didn’t want to acknowledge. He wanted to hate her, wanted to push her away and never look back. But part of him—the part that still remembered the love they once shared—ached to let her in, to forgive her.
"You can’t make this right," Mackin said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "You can’t undo what you did."
Lana’s shoulders sagged, her face crumpling with despair. "Mackin, please… I’ve lost everything. You’re the only person who ever meant anything to me. I know I don’t deserve it, but… I need you. I need you to believe that I’ve changed."
Mackin turned away from her, unable to look at her tear-streaked face any longer. His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt a lump forming in his throat. He had hardened himself against so many people, against so many things, to survive. But forgiving Lana? That was something else entirely.
"I don’t know if I can believe that," Mackin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lana took a tentative step forward, her voice trembling. "You don’t have to forgive me today. I just… I want a chance to prove to you that I’m not the person I used to be."
Mackin stood in silence, his hands gripping the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles turned white. Could he give her that chance? Could he let her back into his life, after everything she had done?
Finally, Mackin turned back to face her, his expression unreadable. "I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you, Lana. But I’ll give you a chance."
Lana let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her. She took another step closer, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Mackin. Thank you."
Mackin nodded but said nothing more. He watched as Lana turned and quietly left the office, leaving him alone with his thoughts. The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed was deafening.
Mackin sank into his chair, burying his face in his hands. He had faced so many battles, so many enemies, but this—this was something different. Forgiving Lana would be one of the hardest battles he would ever fight. And he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to win.
The corridors of the Mackin estate were quiet—the kind of quiet that held secrets. Bruno Mackin lay in his bed, his body a mere shadow of its former self.The once powerful patriarch of the Mackin family now struggled with every breath, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of a man long past his prime. But Bruno’s mind was still sharp, sharper than anyone realized.The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows over the sparse furniture. Mackin stood at the foot of his uncle’s bed, his hands in his pockets, his face an unreadable mask."You’ve come to see me," Bruno croaked, his voice weak but laced with bitterness.Mackin didn’t respond immediately. He stood there, watching the man who had once ruled the family with an iron fist, now reduced to a fragile shell. "I came for answers."Bruno’s eyes flickered with something—fear, perhaps—but he quickly masked it with a sneer. "What makes you think I owe you anything?"Mackin’s gaze never wavered. "Because I know what you did. You w
Drake stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him with such force that the walls rattled. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he fought to regain control.He had never seen Mackin like that before—so cold, so ruthless. It was as if the years had hardened him into someone unrecognizable.Drake’s fingers itched as he reached for his phone, dialling a number he hadn’t used in years. The person on the other end picked up after a single ring.“It’s Drake,” he snapped into the receiver. “I need you to move up the timeline.”There was a pause, followed by a low, gravelly voice. “You sure about this, boss? It’s going to get messy.”Drake’s jaw clenched. “Do it.”He hung up without waiting for a response, his mind racing with plans of sabotage, of destruction. If Mackin thought he could come in and take over, he was sorely mistaken. This was still Drake’s family, his empire, and he would burn it to the ground before he let Mackin have it.The late
Mackin stood on the balcony of his penthouse, gazing out at the city that had once felt so foreign and hostile to him.The twinkling lights of the buildings below stretched out like stars in the night, but tonight, the view brought no solace. The cold wind whipped against his face, but he barely noticed, lost in his thoughts. The weight of victory was heavy on his shoulders. He had taken down Drake, reclaimed his place within the Mackin family, and even avenged his parents’ deaths.But none of it felt like the triumph he had imagined all those years ago when he was destitute and hungry for justice. Instead, there was a hollow emptiness that gnawed at him, a pit in his stomach that refused to leave.Behind him, the sliding door to the balcony creaked open. Mackin didn’t turn, already knowing who it was by the soft footsteps. Lana. She had been staying with him in the penthouse since the night everything had come crashing down. Their interactions had been distant at best, awkward at
Mackin sat across from Lambo in a dimly lit restaurant, the soft glow of the candle on their table casting flickering shadows over their faces.The restaurant was one of Mackin’s newest acquisitions, a high-end establishment known for its discretion. Tonight, they needed that discretion more than ever.Lambo leaned forward, his voice low and urgent."I didn’t want to bring this up before, Mackin, but there’s something you need to know. The power struggle within the family isn’t over."Mackin’s eyes narrowed as he listened intently. He had known that consolidating power within the family would be a challenge, but he had hoped that with Bruno incapacitated and Drake out of the picture, the worst of it was behind him."What are you talking about?" Mackin asked, his voice calm but edged with tension.Lambo glanced around the restaurant, ensuring no one was listening."There are others, Mackin. Allies of Drake. They’ve been quietly amassing support, and they’re not happy with the way thing
The Mackin estate had always been a fortress, a symbol of power that loomed over the city like an indomitable colossus.But now, with Mackin Jones back in control, the estate felt different. The weight of betrayal and family politics had always lingered in the air, but Mackin was determined to change that.He was no longer the broken man his family had cast out. He had rebuilt himself, and now, he was going to rebuild the family—but on his terms.Mackin stood at the edge of the estate’s sprawling lawn, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The morning sun bathed the grounds in a soft, golden light, casting long shadows that seemed to dance across the perfectly manicured gardens.It was a new day, not just for the estate, but for the Mackin legacy. A legacy that Mackin intended to redefine.Behind him, the heavy oak doors of the mansion creaked open, and the sound of footsteps echoed on the stone patio. Mackin didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to. He knew the footsteps well.Lambo, his trust
In the days following Victor’s open defiance at the family meeting, Mackin knew that the clock was ticking. His vision for the Mackin family’s future—a legitimate business empire built on trust, not blood—was already under threat. He had expected resistance, but not so soon. Victor and his allies were moving faster than anticipated, and Mackin had to act.The first indication of trouble came in the form of a phone call from Lambo. Mackin had just finished a series of meetings with his legal team, discussing plans to restructure some of the family’s more questionable ventures, when Lambo’s name appeared on his phone screen."Lambo," Mackin said, answering the call, "what’s the situation?""We’ve got a problem," Lambo replied, his voice tense. "Victor’s been meeting with some of the old guard. Word is, they’re planning something big. They’re not happy about the changes you’re making, and they’re going to push back."Mackin’s grip tightened on the phone. "How serious is this?""Serious
The grand hall of the Mackin estate was eerily quiet as the family gathered once again, this time for a formal vote—one that could determine the future of the Mackin empire. Word had spread quickly about Victor’s challenge to Mackin’s leadership, and the old guard had rallied their supporters in an attempt to wrest control back from Mackin. A vote of no confidence had been called, a power play that could see Mackin ousted from his position at the head of the family.Mackin stood at the head of the long table, his expression calm but his mind working furiously. He could feel the tension in the room, the undercurrent of uncertainty that rippled through the family. Victor was seated at the opposite end of the table, his eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction. He had been working behind the scenes, gathering support from those who still clung to the old ways of doing things.The older members of the family—the ones who had been loyal to Bruno and Drake—sat stiffly, their faces lined with d
The atmosphere in the Mackin estate was heavy in the days following the vote. Although Mackin had won, it wasn’t a decisive victory.The family was still divided, with Victor and his supporters simmering in the background, waiting for another chance to strike. Mackin knew that he couldn’t relax—not yet. The power struggle wasn’t over.Mackin sat in his office, reviewing financial documents related to the family’s various business ventures. He had already begun the process of cleaning up the family’s operations, shutting down illegal enterprises and shifting the focus towards legitimate businesses. But the transition wasn’t going smoothly. Old habits were hard to break, and there were still members of the family who resisted the changes.A soft knock at the door pulled Mackin from his thoughts. He glanced up to see Lambo standing in the doorway, his expression tense. Mackin gestured for him to enter, already sensing that the news wouldn’t be good.Lambo stepped inside, closing the door
The city had an eerie calm, like the moment before a storm.Luis and Maria knew it well—it was the silence that came before the retaliation. Orlov hadn’t made a move yet, but they both felt it in the air. He was waiting, preparing, and biding his time to strike when they least expected it.Luis stood in front of the massive windows of the penthouse, the city sprawled beneath him like a glittering maze of power and corruption. His mind raced, going over the steps they’d taken to weaken Orlov, but something nagbed at him.They had hit him hard, taken out his warehouses, and disrupted his supply lines, but it didn’t feel like enough. Orlov was too smart, too calculated, to be brought down so easily.“We’ve got eyes on his remaining assets,” Maria said, stepping into the room, her tone clipped but focused. She held a tablet in her hand, showing a live feed from one of their surveillance teams.Luis glanced at her, his jaw tight. “Any movement?”Maria shook her head, frustration flashing i
The city was alive with whispers and murmurs of a new force rising in the shadows.Luis and Maria had thought they’d crushed Avernus, but in the days following their attack, it had become clear that their victory was only temporary. A larger force was at play, one more organised and dangerous than anything they had faced before.Luis sat at his desk in the penthouse, fingers drumming against the polished wood. The city sprawled out beneath him, a glittering beast that never slept. The calm after the storm always felt like a trap, and he could feel the tension in the air.Bones entered the room, his face grim. “We’ve got a name.”Luis looked up sharply, the tension in his jaw visible. “Who is it?”Bones tossed a file onto the desk. “Nikolai Orlov. He’s the one pulling the strings.”Maria, seated across from Luis, raised an eyebrow. The name wasn’t familiar, but the weight of it hung heavy in the air. She flipped open the file, scanning the details. “He’s Russian. Former military ties t
Luis leaned back in his chair, staring at the map laid out before him. The Westside was a web of power and influence, but Avernus was at the centre of it now.They had been patient, slowly building their empire in the shadows, but now they were emerging. And Luis knew they had to be stopped.“They’re moving fast,” Bones said, standing beside him. “Buying up properties, making connections. They’ve got political backing too. The kind that makes it hard to touch them.”Luis’s jaw tightened. Political connections meant trouble. It meant Avernus had protection, the kind that couldn’t be taken down with a bullet. Not easily.Maria entered the room, her eyes scanning the map. “We need leverage. Something that hits them where they can’t hide.”Luis nodded. “We need to make them vulnerable. Expose them for what they are.”Maria’s gaze was sharp, her mind already racing. “We hit their reputation. Politicians won’t back them if they’re too much of a liability.”Bones grunted in agreement. “And o
The night was cool, but the tension was sucking.Luis and Maria moved with precision, their steps silent as they approached the glass doors of the sleek office building. This was Avernus Holdings’ heart—their new stronghold on the Westside—and tonight, the Borsens were going to cut it out.Luis paused at the entrance, his hand resting lightly on the handle. “Let’s make this quick,” he muttered.Maria, standing beside him, smiled faintly. This was the part she lived for. “Quick. But not too easy.”Luis nodded, his pulse steady despite the danger looming ahead. They weren’t here to negotiate. They weren’t here to talk. They were here to send a message.He pushed the door open. The quiet hum of the building swallowed them as they slipped inside. No alarms. No guards in sight. Too quiet.Maria’s eyes scanned the lobby, her hand hovering over her gun. “Where is everyone?”Luis didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened. It felt wrong. His instincts screaming at him. Something was off.A faint so
The Westside had always been different from the rest of the city. It was sleek and polished, hiding power beneath wealth.Luis and Maria knew it all too well. But now there was a new force rising in the shadows, trying to take a slice of their empire. Avernus Holdings—the name had come up more than once, whispered in alleys, muttered by informants. It wasn’t just another local gang.This was something bigger. Something more dangerous.Luis leaned against the cool metal railing of the penthouse balcony, his eyes scanning the distant skyline. The city was a living beast, always moving, and shifting. And now the Westside was stirring.“We’ve got a problem,” Maria’s voice cut through the night air. She stepped onto the balcony, her gaze sharp. “Bones just confirmed it. Avernus Holdings has been buying up properties, and making moves. Quietly, but quickly.”Luis didn’t move; his eyes were still fixed on the city below. “How many properties?”“Four, so far. They’re not just snatching up rea
The city had fallen into an uneasy calm.The Borsens were at the height of their power, with the Southside, Eastside, and now even the edges of the Westside firmly under their control. But Luis and Maria knew better than to mistake calm for peace. Power in the city was always shifting—a fluid, dangerous force that could turn in an instant.Even as they celebrated their victory over Volkov, they were aware that the silence carried with it the weight of anticipation—the sense that something new was on the horizon.Luis sat in his penthouse office, the vast city sprawled out before him through the floor-to-ceiling windows. This was his kingdom, but the view came with a constant reminder: nothing in this city was permanent. He thumbed through the latest reports, detailing the state of their newly expanded empire.The remnants of Santiago’s network had been absorbed, and Volkov’s influence had been erased. For now, no one dared challenge the Borsens’ reign.But Luis knew that peace in this
The city stretched out beneath them, a sea of glittering lights and shadows.From the balcony of the penthouse, Luis could see the whole expanse—his empire. But its weight pressed down on him. Every building, every street, every deal made in dark alleys was a piece of the puzzle he and Maria had put together.And now, it felt fragile, like the wrong move could shatter everything.Maria joined him, her silhouette sharp against the backdrop of the city. She leaned on the railing, eyes scanning the skyline. There was no satisfaction in her gaze, only calculation. They had fought too hard to get here, and she knew just as well as Luis did that the fight was far from over."Volkov's people are scattered," she said. Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. "We've taken them down, piece by piece."Luis nodded, though his mind was elsewhere. They had crushed Volkov’s network, wiped out his loyalists, and dismantled his empire. But something about it all felt unfinished. Volkov’s dea
The air felt heavy. Tense. The city held its breath.Luis and Maria stood together in the penthouse, their eyes scanning the streets below. Everything was quiet, but they knew it wouldn’t last. Volkov’s final move was coming, and it wouldn’t be subtle. He had gathered his forces and brought in mercenaries, and now it was only a matter of time before the fight came to them.Luis checked his weapon for the third time that night. The weight of the gun in his hand felt reassuring, but there was an edge to his thoughts that couldn’t be shaken. This was the moment they had been preparing for—a final, bloody confrontation. And while they had won every battle so far, Luis knew this one would be different.“He’ll come with everything,” Maria said, standing beside him. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were sharp. “Volkov won’t leave anything to chance. He can’t afford to.”Luis nodded. They had hit Volkov hard, taken out his resources, and crippled his network. But now, backed into a corner, Vo
The city was a battlefield, and now, with Nicholas Volkov in the mix, the stakes had grown even higher. Santiago had been a local threat, a power player on the Westside, but Volkov was something else entirely—an international force with resources and connections that extended far beyond the city’s limits. And now he had set his sights on the Borsens’ empire.Luis stood on the balcony of his penthouse, the cold night air biting at his skin as he gazed out over the city. Volkov wasn’t just here to make money—he was here to take control. Santiago had been smart to ally with him, but it wouldn’t be enough. Not with Luis and Maria ready to strike back.Maria joined him on the balcony, her eyes sharp as she stared at the skyline. “Volkov thinks he can just walk into our city and take what’s ours.”Luis nodded, his expression hardening. “We’ll show him he’s wrong.”The war for the city was about to enter its most dangerous phase. And Luis and Maria were ready.The city hummed with dangerous