A week had passed since Ash officially started his work in the debt collection unit. He had left the compound behind, since members of the unit were always stationed in the city where their operations took place.
Back at the compound, Léo, Sebastian, Matteo, and Luca remained, handling their own duties, while Emil, being in the same unit, was also in the city with him.
The debt collection team was divided into pairs, each group assigned to different houses across the city. Their tasks were clear: collect what was owed, ensure loyalty, and remind everyone that debts to the family were never forgotten. It was dangerous, demanding work—every knock on a door carried the risk of resistance, violence, or worse.
************
Screams echoed through the room as Maddox's fists crashed again and again into the man's body. The debtor—who looked to be in his late forties—was already bloodied, struggling to breathe through the pain.
"Hey, Maddox! I think you can stop now!" Ash shouted, his voice edged with concern. But Maddox didn't seem to hear him. His knuckles were slick with blood, his chest heaving as he continued to pummel the man without restraint.
Ash's jaw tightened. He couldn't just stand there. In two quick strides, he moved forward and shoved Maddox away from the man.
The beaten man slumped against the wall, trembling, while Maddox staggered back a step, glaring at Ash.
"He's already bleeding" Ash said
Maddox's muscles tensed, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Without warning, he swung a hard punch at Ash, the impact jolting him backward. Maddox grabbed Ash by the shirt, his grip iron-strong, and hissed, "Hey, mother fucker– Don't you dare tell me what to do!"
With a forceful shove, Maddox pushed Ash back, sending him stumbling a few steps.
" Why the hell did they have to pair me with a dumbass like you" Maddox said, running his hand through his hair and pushing it back.
Maddox turned back to the man, who was gasping for air, hands pressed weakly against his sides. His own hands shoved deep into his pockets as he approached, each step deliberate and menacing.
When he reached the trembling man, Maddox planted a boot firmly on his head. "Hey, old man," he sneered, the corners of his mouth twisting into an evil smirk.
"You still have until evening to bring the cash"
The man whimpered, struggling to comply, but Maddox wasn't finished. He spat on him, a final act of humiliation, before turning sharply and marching toward the door. On his way out, he shoved Ash roughly with his shoulder, sending him stumbling backward.
Ash's fists clenched, his jaw tight, anger and helplessness warring inside him. He really hated this.That's when he noticed a small figure emerging from the cupboard—a boy, who looked to be about ten years old.
"Dad! Dad!" the child cried, his tiny hands shaking the bloodied man on the floor. Tears streamed down his face, his voice cracking with fear and desperation.
The boy's gaze then landed on Ash, eyes wide and pleading.
"Mister… help! Dad… Dad isn't… moving!"
Ash let out a long, heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair. His heart sank at the sight, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. And in that instant, the sight of the terrified boy shaking his father reminded Ash painfully of his own mother, her vulnerability and the helplessness he had felt. He knew he had to act.
**************
Ash leaned back, a cigarette balanced between his fingers as he stared up at the darkening sky. The smoke curled lazily into the air.
That's when he noticed the little boy approaching, his small steps hesitant but determined.
Reaching Ash, the boy looked up at him, voice trembling. "Thank you, mister… if not for you—"
His words broke off as tears began to stream down his face, leaving the rest unspoken.
Back at the house, Ash couldn't shake the image of the little boy's tears. The sight weighed heavily on him. Without hesitation, he lifted the injured man and rushed him to the nearest local clinic.
Thankfully, the injuries weren't severe. The man was now stable.
Ash bent down to meet the boy's level, his expression softening.
"Hey, kiddo… stop crying," he said gently. "You have to be strong—for yourself and for your dad, okay?"
The boy sniffled, wiped his tears, and gave a small nod. Ash offered him a reassuring smile, then straightened up.
As he started walking away, waving a casual goodbye to the little boy, his eyes caught a silhouette in the distance.
Emil… he thought.
**************
Music thumped through the club, heavy bass vibrating through the floor. Lights danced across the crowd, but in the VIP section, things moved a little slower.
Evan leaned back in his chair, a glass of aged whiskey in hand, and glanced at Dmitri.
"How's Nik doing?" he asked casually, though his eyes were sharp, watching Dmitri's every movement.
"He's doing much better now, thanks to you" Dmitri replied, his words steady, though he was already on his fourth glass. The alcohol made his head spin slightly, and the noise of the club seemed to blur at the edges.
"What about the issue with the drug unit? Have they been resolved?" Evan pressed, his voice softer now, his curiosity probing.
Dmitri hesitated, a flicker of distraction crossing his eyes.
Evan leaned forward, placing his fingers lightly on Dmitri's chin, tilting his face so their eyes met. The sudden closeness sent an unexpected jolt through Dmitri—a spark of tension neither of them acknowledged aloud, but impossible to ignore.
It was then that Dmitri caught sight of a familiar silhouette entering the club. His heart skipped a beat.
"Ashley…" he murmured, barely audible over the music, the name catching on his lips.