Chapter 1 - Jericho

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The space known as Jericho's office was barren. His mahogany desk was glistening in the light pouring down from the flickering bulb overhead. His curtains were shut, scratch marks littering them, tiny holes allowing drips of sunlight to peek in and say hello. Golden flakes were etched into the cream colored wallpaper hung up. There were portraits of each leader strung to the walls. They descended until they reached Jericho, him remaining seated even after hearing the voices outside.

Chairs were set up in front of him, but both were void of life. Both had tears and dust that mimicked the particles littering the corners of the room. There was only one source of color in the vicinity that wasn't faded. And it came in the form of a photo resting in a small frame on Jericho's desk. It was next to his laptop, the two men in the image grinning as if they were victorious. At the time, they were. Jericho wished he could say the same now.

Seconds later, a knock sounded off. The single rap reverberated across the solitude of Jericho's office before he granted permission for entry. In came a man as tall as the door frame. Almost as wide, too. His shoulders gave him an appearance of superiority, and his hands were tied behind his back as he entered. Out of courtesy, he let the door click shut behind him.

"Sir," he said, his voice carrying an edge that left cuts on Jericho's skin. "Mr. Belmour called."

"Did he confirm our appointment?" Jericho asked, his chair squeaking as he sat back.

"Yes sir. The leader of Hakai is ready to meet with us."

Jericho toyed with his next words in his mouth, rolling them around the buds of his tongue before spitting them out. "Years of rivalry. And yet in those years, not once have we identified their leader. Why does he want to come out now?"

"We've been advancing on their territory, sir. If I were to guess, he wants a peaceful solution before our war gets worse."

"Peace in the mafia," he mumbled, scratching his chipped nails against the surface in front of him. "Prepare an escort. I don't trust this isn't a trap."

"Sir, if they go against their word, they'll be killed. They have no reason to lie." When Jericho, glared, Mr. Spade bowed. "I'll prepare an escort, sir."

"Can we be ready in 10 minutes?"

The corners of Mr. Spade's lips spread up into a smile. "How about 8, sir?"

"Good. Keep up the good work, Mr. Spade. You'll make an excellent leader some day. More so than you already are."

"Thank you, sir," Theo said, and he left right after.

As soon as the door shut, Jericho got up and pressed his hands against his desk. The photo taunted him. Screamed at him. But he didn't give it the attention it craved. He closed his eyes and imagined a world where this meeting would go well, where his problems would be solved in an hour just by talking to the shadow that had been haunting him for years. Deep down, he knew his fantasy was just that. A fantasy.

His eyes opened again, and he went toward the window and grabbed the curtains. He opened them, staring out at the setting sun. By the time they arrived, it would most likely be nightfall. Or maybe it would rain. It rained and snowed often in New York, particularly in the city. He hoped it wouldn't disturb his sleep tonight.

After years of leading Unmei, Jericho often pondered if this was the right career path for him. He didn't have much of a childhood, and the streets were his primary friend other than one other who eventually left him like the rest. The thought plagued his mind over and over again, jabbing at the wrinkles of his brain until he had a headache. Was he in the right place?

His answer ended up being no.

~~~

Jericho was right. It did end up being nightfall by the time they arrived at the estate. The meeting location they agreed to. They had backup waiting for them to call them in if necessary, but Jericho left that to his right hand, Theo Spade. Speaking of, Theo opened the door for him. Jericho told the driver to wait for them, and he departed the vehicle only to be met with a mansion that appeared more like a castle not too far away.

If this were a horror movie, mist would float around the top of the monstrous abode. It was as impressive as it was terrifying that the mansion was gigantic. More so than Jericho's by a landslide. The worst part was that it was a Gothic style, dark color palettes and gates being the two features that stood out the most.

The gates blocking them from the front door were not far, so Jericho started his trek with Theo behind him. Brick walls surrounded the perimeter, making it impossible to see each crevasse of the area. It'd be nice to have had a layout before entering, but Jericho supposed it was something he'd have to deal with, and he got over it as fast as he could. Despite that, he found himself leaning closer to Mr. Spade.

"Do you think anyone's watching us?" he asked, dropping his tone to a whisper.

"Cameras," Theo replied, motioning to the devices tied up on the tops of the walls. Jericho grumbled a few curses as they went. The more distance they put between their car and themselves, the more Jericho felt himself gaining a bounce in his step. He pretended it wasn't there and continued their journey.

The moon wasn't quite out and bright yet, but it had a small shine that glimmered off the polished metal of the gates. Right as they approached, Jericho went to the intercom and scanned over it, noting the way it had not a single mark of dust on it. No grime, no fingerprints. It was almost too clean, and the same applied to the rest of the building.

Jericho stepped away and pressed his back against the wall, feeling his side for his holstered pistol. At his actions, Theo went in front of him and drew his weapon, glancing at Jericho for permission of some kind. Jericho granted it without thinking much of it, and Theo peeked out from behind the wall.

While he was checking their surroundings, Jericho went back to trying to solve the mystery that was this mansion. There were windows covering almost every inch of the outside, yet Jericho couldn't see in a single one. The enormous front yard the gates were blocking him from had no guards scattered around. Not even any plants. There were no decorations outside, and it reminded Jericho of his own office and home. He pulled his mind away from those thoughts, gripping the butt of his gun a bit harder than before.

"Mr. Spade, do you think our rival is actually here, or is it a decoy?" Jericho asked, Theo not taking his eyes off the sidewalk leading up to the gates. They were isolated from much of the world. In any other universe, this would appear as though it were the dumbest plan in existence. However, both parties gave their word to Mr. Belmour that they wouldn't harm each other. They were savages, but they had rules. If only Jericho could admit just how contradictory that statement was.

"I'm more of a glass half empty kind of guy, but I think so, sir."

Jericho felt his heart slow by a few beats thanks to Theo's words. He couldn't express his thanks, so he hoped the way he didn't reply showed it. He doubted it did, but his tongue was too swollen to say anything more.

The intercom shimmered as the light hit it more, and Jericho went over, placing his hand on the side of it and observing each button. One would hopefully lead them inside and to their rival for the first time. The one who was killing Jericho's men, taking his businesses down, stealing his corners of the grid. Yet something still itched inside his gut telling him that this was a mistake. Showing up to meet his rival wasn't the mistake, no. What felt like a mistake was the idea of going against his rival at all. But it wasn't because his rival was intimidating. Jericho couldn't quite put his finger on why his gut was so against this whole territory war, but he didn't get a chance to continue pondering it.

Before he could press any buttons, a gunshot followed by a shriek rang out. Theo snapped back behind the wall, panting, but unharmed. He grunted and slid down the wall, clicking off the safety to his weapon. Jericho dove over to his side, swiping his pistol out of his holster and mimicking Mr. Spade's actions.

"Lying bastard," Theo said with his teeth gritting together, more gunshots bouncing off the side of the brick wall.

They had no time. Within a minute, whoever was shooting at them would come around and fire away, blowing their cover. Jericho shoved Theo behind him, firing without sticking his head out from the wall. He was amazed when no shot came to take off his hand. He knew his luck would run out, so he threw his hand back behind the wall and checked how many rounds he had left. Enough. Barely enough, but enough.

"Call for backup," Jericho said, and Theo was on it in a flash, his phone pressed against his ear while several shots came toward them.

There was more than one person shooting at them. So that meant this was an organized effort, not something thrown together. Jericho wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse. The obvious answer was worse, but one option meant he was deceived, and the other meant someone went against their boss. Jericho preferred the option where this was a misunderstanding, but that didn't seem to be the case.

Another shot popped off the side of the wall, ringing Jericho's ears from the intensity of it. He poked his tongue against his cheek and waited for backup to come. He hated this powerlessness. If there was one thing he hated most, it was powerlessness. And here he was, powerless to the current that was his attackers. He was at their mercy. The thing he hated second most was someone or something hurting his ego. This whole event was making him feel powerless and hurting his ego. It brought nausea to the abyss called his stomach, and a pounding sensation came alive inside his head. Jericho pushed it aside. Or he tried to.

Theo was speaking in a shout to whoever was on the other end of the line, and Jericho had to duck out of terror that a shot would hit him. Footsteps approached, and Jericho and Theo backed away. Jericho knelt, Theo pressing the phone on the ground and standing so he could shoot over Jericho's head.

The silence was deafening, Jericho's pulse pumping against his ears. A single figure stepped out of the shadows and into the light, standing only 5 five away from Jericho and Theo. However, before they could shoot, blood splattered on the sidewalk. A hole ripped itself through the figure's head, and the masked man slumped to the ground, dropping his pistol.

Jericho jolted back, nearly crashing on Theo's leg. The man was covered in gear, knives on his utility belt and ammo strapped around his body. Jericho assumed the other attackers were the same way. But none of the others ever had a chance to reveal themselves.

"Mr. Seong!" a female voice shouted, and it felt like the world halted for a moment. "Stand down right now before I put a bullet in you too!"

Theo grabbed his phone and told their backup to wait, but Jericho didn't lower his weapon. It was quiet for too long, then, a male's voice echoed throughout the air.

"This is our chance, we can't back down now!" the male, who Jericho assumed was Mr. Seong, replied.

"I don't care, you don't act alone!"

"To be fair to myself, this was Mr. Armani's idea, not mine! I can't disobey him. He's got a point, y'know. Eliminate our rival right here and now."

Jericho's throat closed at the mention of the name Armani. Mr. Armani. How many people in New York had that name? Jericho swallowed to add moisture to his mouth and body, but no relief ever came. Mr. Armani. Jericho knew not many had that name, and by extension, he knew what that meant for him. He was back. And the odds were that soon enough, Mr. Armani would be back in Jericho's life. The face he hadn't seen in 5 years. The face who seemingly ordered others to kill Jericho. Yet another betrayal he'd have to face.

"Stand down, now! You know the consequences. If we kill Mr. Novak, suddenly we have yet another war. I won't ask again, stand the fuck down! I don't care about our history, I'll kill you if I have to," the woman said.

Jericho and Theo exchanged a glance when no answer came. Footsteps sounded off. They got closer and closer, Theo and Jericho raising their weapons as a result. The sounds stopped right before the wall, and Jericho narrowed his eyes on the bricks.

"Mr. Novak, Mr. Spade. I'm coming out now, I holstered my weapon. I apologize for the actions taken by my underboss. Please do not associate his mistake as my true intentions. I keep my word. I don't want you harmed," she said.

Jericho kept his weapon high, but this time not with the intent to kill. Theo was the same way. But who was she? She couldn't be his rival, could she? After years and years of hunting only to find out Jericho couldn't even get the gender of his rival right. It was mortifying, but something about it intrigued him. Curiosity killed the cat, didn't it? So Jericho attempted to regain focus. To his surprise: he did.

The woman came out of the shadows, her in formal wear with sneakers that contrasted the dark palette she was donning. Her light hair was let loose and covering her slim face. Navy eyes awaited him, and they shone in the dim lighting. Jericho lowered his weapon without meaning to. Theo didn't lower his though.

"My sincerest apologies for the actions taken by my underboss, Mr. Seong," she said, holding her hands up as if to show her defeat. Theo called off the backup, Jericho rising to his feet and staring at her with his eyes widening more by the second. He couldn't stop himself from scanning her up and down, doing his best to assess if she was a threat or not. His body shook when he couldn't gain a straight answer.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice teetering on a whisper.

She stepped closer, and her thick lips spread into a smile that had Jericho's skin forming goosebumps. "My name is Charlotte Evermore." She lowered her arms, several guards appearing behind her with their weapons holstered. Then, she chuckled. "Welcome to Hakai."


~~~

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