2025-03-22 04:19:27
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The shadow in the hospital A Visit to Ramirez’s coward partner
The car door swung open, and Ramirez stepped out, his polished boots slamming onto the pavement with firm authority. He was a man of presence—tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding the kind of honor that made him stand out even in a city like New York. His jet-black hair, neatly combed back, glistened under the streetlights, and his sharp brown eyes carried a depth of experience that few could comprehend. At 33, Ramirez was a man built for resilience, a man who had seen too much yet carried himself with dignity. His chiseled jaw, accentuated by a slight five o'clock shadow, gave him a rugged appeal, and his tailored black suit hugged his frame perfectly.Tonight, he was on Madison Avenue, not far from NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital—where Oscar was recovering. As he pulled up, his mind raced with memories. He and Oscar had been through everything together. From the cold streets of the Bronx to high-stakes busts in Brooklyn, they had always had each other’s backs. Sure, Oscar had his moment
The shadow in the hospital Where does Svet belong?
Something about the truck driver was off.Walker noticed it the moment Svet shrugged off his coat and settled into the waiting room chair. The dim hospital light cast soft shadows over his frame, highlighting the marks that crept up his neck—tattoos, but not the casual kind. Some were shaped like stars, others like half-moons, blending into the wrinkles of his aged but still intimidating physique.Then there were his arms.Walker had seen tattoos before—who hadn’t?—but the ones on Svet’s hands were different. His left forearm bore the inked silhouette of a scorpion, its tail curled upward in a striking green hue, as though ready to strike. The details were sharp, intricate, as if the creature itself had been burned into his skin rather than merely inked. It was mesmerizing, dangerous-looking, almost alive.This wasn’t just body art. This was a mark of belonging.Walker’s gaze shifted to Svet’s right arm, where a serpent-like dragon coiled in emerald and black, its fierce eyes seeming
The shadow in the hospital Daad Intercontinental Supermarket
The revolving glass doors parted, and Walker stepped into Daad Intercontinental Supermarket—a retail empire owned by the prestigious Daad family. It was more than just a supermarket; it was a symbol of luxury, the epitome of affluence, where only the wealthiest could afford to shop. Everything inside shimmered under golden-hued chandeliers, from polished marble floors to elegantly arranged aisles stocked with imported goods. Each item carried a price tag that could make an average man weak in the knees.Walker was not an average man. He was far below that today.His clothes were crumpled, the same ones he had hurriedly thrown on when the truck driver took him and his wife to the hospital. He had no time to go home for a change. His wife had just given birth, but complications had kept her in the hospital. Now, she needed urgent supplies—things for herself and their newborn.As he scanned the aisles, feeling out of place among the elite customers dressed in tailor-made suits and design
The shadow in the hospital No One Is Coming For You
Jett jerked awake to the sharp sting of ice-cold water slamming against his face. His body convulsed from the shock, lungs seizing as the freezing liquid soaked into his torn clothes. The world was a blur—shadows moving, voices laughing, his breath coming in ragged gasps.Then, the fist came.A brutal strike to the ribs. Then another. Jett groaned, head lolling forward, but the pain snapped him awake. His wrists burned from the ropes cutting into them, his legs bound so tight he could barely feel them anymore.A boot slammed into his gut.He would’ve doubled over, but the ropes held him upright."That woke him up," one of the guards sneered, rolling his shoulders. The red scarf around his neck was stained with dried blood—maybe his, maybe someone else’s. Didn’t matter. These men didn’t care.Jett spat blood onto the floor.The laughter around him was casual, like they were playing cards instead of torturing a man. He could barely lift his head, but he caught glimpses—rifles slung lazi
The shadow in the hospital Looks like you owe this man an apology
The security office was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of coffee and stale authority. Walker sat in the interrogation room, his wrists still stinging from the tight handcuffs. His jaw clenched as he watched the security officers whisper among themselves, throwing him the occasional glance like he was some street rat caught in the wrong place.Outside, in the loading bay of Daad Intercontinental Supermarket, a massive steel door groaned open—the supplier's entrance, a passage reserved for trucks delivering goods straight from the seaport and airport. Svet had just finished his delivery.He stepped down from his truck, stretching his back with a groan before heading toward the security department to finalize his clearance. He wasn’t in a hurry. His work here was done, and all that remained was getting the final stamp on his delivery papers before driving off.Whistling softly, he knocked once on the security office door, then pushed it open.Inside, he slid in casually, humming
The shadow in the hospital Final Wreck for his courage
The entire police department was in chaos.A cop had been beaten, humiliated, and left for dead in the middle of the street. The video was everywhere—circulating online, played repeatedly on news channels, dissected frame by frame by both law enforcement and the public. The image of Officer Oscar struggling, then collapsing, played like a stain on the department’s reputation.A prisoner had escaped, not just slipping through their fingers but taking a patrol car and making a mockery of them. It was a slap to the face.Inside the precinct, tempers flared.“We have checkpoints all over the city, CCTV surveillance, and an entire force dedicated to tracking this guy down!” Ramirez slammed a file onto the desk. “And yet, nothing?!”Another officer, jaws clenched, shook his head. “He’s like a damn ghost. We traced the patrol car—found it abandoned near an uncompleted building. No fingerprints, no leads, nothing.”The NYPD’s higher-ups were livid. The escapee’s face was everywhere, plastered
The shadow in the hospital The Reckoning at Daad Intercontinental Supermarket
Walker stepped out of the supermarket, his arms laden with the items he had picked up for his wife in the hospital. The revolving glass doors whispered shut behind him as the cool evening breeze brushed against his face. He still couldn't wrap his head around the turn of events—one moment, he was just another customer; the next, he was humiliated, then compensated, and now, walking away with unpaid-for goods. It didn’t sit right with him, but Svet had insisted.Just as he exhaled, trying to clear his thoughts, he heard hurried footsteps behind him. A feeling of unease crept up his spine. Someone was following him.He stopped and turned.There she was.The same woman who had falsely accused him earlier, standing a short distance away, hands trembling, rubbing them together in a nervous plea. Her lips quivered, and tears streamed down her face.Walker’s expression darkened. His fingers clenched around the grocery bag."You again?" His voice was cold, edged with suspicion. "If you’re her
The shadow in the hospital The reconnection
The car screeched to a halt. Jett barely felt the force of the stop—his body was too battered, too numb to register anything but exhaustion. The doors unlocked with a mechanical click, and one of the men in the front seat turned around, his cold, dead eyes drilling into Jett’s.“Get out.”Jett didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed the door open, dragging himself onto the pavement, his legs wobbling beneath him. He felt the weight of eyes on his back as he staggered forward, nearly falling but catching himself at the last moment. The car didn’t linger. It roared off into the night, leaving behind nothing but the acrid smell of burning rubber.He forced himself toward his apartment, each step a reminder of what he had just survived. His ribs jutted out beneath his torn shirt—he hadn't eaten real food in days. His body was an empty shell, but his mind… his mind was a storm.Jett fumbled with the key, his fingers trembling as he jammed it into the lock. The door creaked open, and he all
Latest Chapter
PENTHOUSE–FORTY-THIRD Floor
Penthouse, 2:17 A.M.Outside, Manhattan pulsed—wet streets, blinking signs, garbage trucks grinding somewhere far below. Inside, the hallway outside the main chamber felt like a mausoleum—quiet, cold, and waiting.Riven leaned against the wall, fidgeting with a lighter he didn’t know how to use. “You think he ever sleeps?”Dax didn’t look up from his phone. “The boss?”“No, Santa Claus.”Dax’s mouth twitched—almost a smile. “If you gotta ask, you’re not ready to meet him.”Riven glanced at the thick steel double doors ahead. “Think he’ll like me?”Dax finally looked over. “No.”Riven paused. “What if I brought donuts?”Now Dax did smile—barely. “He doesn’t eat sugar. Says it fogs the kill switch.”“What’s the kill switch?”Dax tapped his chest. “The moment you hesitate.”Before Riven could reply, the doors clicked open on their own. No creak. Just smooth, mechanical surrender.“Guess that’s our cue,” Dax said, already walking.Inside the Domain.It felt more like a fortress than a hom
The Day Of Departure
Paris, 5:26 a.m. – The Day of DepartureA gray hush hung over the apartment like a veil. Outside the window, the streets of Montparnasse were slick with rain, streetlamps still glowing, casting long yellow reflections across the pavement. Inside, the kitchen smelled of dark roast and quiet dread.Elizabeth stood barefoot by the stovetop, wrapped in one of Walker’s old cotton shirts—navy blue, frayed at the cuffs. She cradled a white mug in both hands, staring blankly at the French press slowly dripping behind her. The overhead light hummed, a faint contrast to the rhythmic patter of drizzle tapping the windowpanes.Walker entered the kitchen already dressed—charcoal jeans, black boots, and a fitted dark jacket zipped halfway. His duffel bag was slung over his right shoulder; a small black carry-on rolled behind him.“You’re early,” she said without turning.“I couldn’t sleep.”She reached for a second mug and poured. “You want one for the road?”He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”They sipped
You will stay here tonight
A dusty taxi creaked to a halt by the side of an empty stretch of road. Jett stepped out first—broad shoulders wrapped in a black leather coat, hood drawn, his jaw clenched beneath a well-groomed beard. His mirrored sunglasses caught the glow of the streetlight, making him unreadable.Without a word, he circled to the other door, yanked it open, and dragged Anita out. She stumbled. Her face was veiled beneath a grey scarf, pulled tight. Her wrists were tense under his grip.The taxi disappeared into the fog. Another whizzed past, not even slowing when the driver caught a glimpse of the strange duo. Jett knew better than to head home. Surveillance was real. Patterns get you caught. And tonight, he wasn't just a hacker — he was judge, jury, maybe more.He hissed into Anita’s ear, the barrel of a pistol poking under her rib cage. “One sound, and I turn your insides into fog. Got it?”She nodded slowly, eyes wet, throat stiff.When a second cab finally pulled over, Jett shoved her inside
Walker's Next Move
Paris, 2:47 a.m. The yellow nightlight near the crib cast a soft oval glow across the cream-colored walls. Outside, a light drizzle tapped the glass window rhythmically. But Walker lay wide awake, his back pressed flat against their queen-sized bed, arms folded behind his head. His eyes had been locked on the ceiling for hours. He didn’t move until he heard the soft snore from Elizabeth—steady, shallow. Then, slowly, carefully, he turned and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “Lizzy…” His voice barely escaped his lips. She groaned softly and stirred under the weight of the duvet, one leg peeking out. “Mm?” “I need to talk to you.” She rolled to face him, her long hair spilling onto the pillow. Her voice cracked with sleep. “Now?” “I can’t keep it in anymore.” Elizabeth sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with both hands. “Alright. Talk.” Walker inhaled sharply. “I think it’s time we move back to the US.” Elizabeth blinked at him, confused. “What?” “I’m serious.” Sh
Anita the Stripper
The stripper hit the floor hard, stunned. Her mouth opened to scream—but Jett was faster. He clamped his hand over her lips and shoved her against the wall.“Where is she?” he growled. “The one with the yellow short hair. Lip piercing. Tribal mark. The one who sold me out.”She gasped, struggling under his grip. “I—I don’t know who you mean—”Wrong answer.Jett’s grip tightened around her throat. Her eyes bulged, bloodshot and watering. Her heels scraped against the floor. He leaned in, voice colder than steel.“When you get to hell, tell them I send my regards.”He released her. She collapsed, coughing, trying to breathe—but Jett wasn’t done.He drew the pistol, cold and black, and pressed the barrel to her lips. Slowly. Deliberately.“Talk. Or I blow your teeth through the back of your skull.”Her eyes filled with panic. She coughed, choked, shook her head. “I—I can’t…”He shoved the barrel deeper.“You will.”Finally, she broke.“Anita,” she wheezed. “Her name is Anita.”“Where?”“
Jett’s next move
Jett could finally rest now. Ramirez—the man he was assigned to watch like a hound on a scent—was locked up. Prison steel swallowed his old target. Jett wasn’t bitter anymore. Not exactly. If he hadn’t heard about how Ramirez’s wife and kid were kidnapped, he would’ve thought Ramirez had sold him out. But Jett knew betrayal. This wasn’t it.He had a new life now. One with the possibility of something like peace. Marriage? Maybe. But he knew how his world worked. People he crossed through his dark trade—hacking, digital theft, surveillance—if they couldn’t reach him, they'd go after the ones he loved. Just like Ramirez.That’s why he never married.That’s why tonight he carried a pistol in his back pocket and a black ski mask folded tight inside his duffel. It was 8 p.m. The club would be starting to heat up. If he waited too late, she’d be gone—dancing on another pole, working another poor bastard.She. The stripper who sold him out.Tonight, she dies.Jett covered the hole behind him
Lizzy, Pasta & The Snake-Bitten Husband
Elizabeth stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, one eye on her baby monitor and another on her phone screen. Her thumb hovered over the call button. There was only one person she could call right now. Someone who always had an annoying answer but always showed up when it mattered—Svet.She dialed.It rang once.Twice.Nothing.“What?!” she gasped out loud, glaring at her phone like it just cheated in Monopoly. “Svet NEVER ignores my calls. That man picks faster than Google Search!”She stomped to her room, still in her house robe—a faded pink monstrosity with “Best Wife Ever” peeling off the front. Her hair was in a bun so messy it looked like a raccoon had made a nest and abandoned it mid-morning. Inside the room, little Seth, her twelve-month-old heartthrob, was babbling to himself, a plush toy of a yellow duck clutched in one chubby hand.He was mumbling gibberish with a sense of purpose, like he was explaining blockchain to the duck.“Ba ba goo…noo noo waba…”Elizabeth stared
You’re using criminals to catch cops now?
Ramirez crept forward on aching elbows, the metal biting into his skin with every inch he advanced. The stale air of the ventilation shaft was thick with grime and rust, the silence broken only by the faint groans of the prison’s ancient structure. His heart pounded in his ears as he reached a long shaft stretching over the highest-security wing—the place they called The Pit.This has to be it, he thought. Javier Montoya’s cage.But as he crawled closer, his gut twisted.The shaft above this particular section wasn't like the others. It was reinforced with iron bars, thick and welded to an inner frame—an iron lattice designed to block even the smallest object from falling through. Someone had gone to great lengths to seal this section off from above. Not because of an escape risk—but because of rescue attempts. They had sealed it like a vault.They knew his men might try this. They thought of everything.Ramirez pressed his face to the narrowest gap in the ironwork. He couldn’t see mu
Memory Loss
Tiny flickers of light danced before his eyes. His vision blurred, unfocused. He groanved, trying to move, but his body felt weighted, sluggish. Panic clawed at his chest as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings."Where... where am I?" His voice cracked, dry as desert air.The sound of hurried footsteps. A soft gasp. Then, warmth—a gentle hand brushing against his cheek. "Walker! Oh my God, you're awake!" A familiar voice. Comforting. Shaky with emotion.He tried to lift his head, but the effort was exhausting. Squinting through the haze, he could barely make out the silhouette of a woman. His heart told him it was Elizabeth, but his mind refused to connect the dots."I’m here," she whispered, her fingers tracing his face as though confirming he was real. "It’s me, Elizabeth."Walker’s breath came out in short puffs. "What happened to me? Why can’t I see properly?" He reached up, his fingers brushing against bandages wrapped tightly around his hands and arms.Elizabeth sque