The raid began at midnight.
Ethan watched the monitors from the control room, jaw tight, every muscle alert. Damien stood a few steps away, silent, unreadable—like he already knew how this would end.
"Your source was sure?" Ethan asked.
"Yes," Damien replied. "They'll be there."
That was the problem.
They weren't.
The first explosion rocked the east wing of the casino instead.
"What the hell—?" Ethan spun toward the screens.
Gunfire erupted. One by one, his men went down—not killed, but trapped, cornered, overwhelmed. This wasn't a raid. It was a setup.
"Pull them back!" Ethan shouted into the comms.
Static answered.
Then a new message cut through—cold, precise.
You should've trusted your instincts.
Ethan turned slowly toward Damien.
The room felt suddenly too small.
"You told me they'd hit the docks," Ethan said. "You swore it."
Damien's expression didn't change—but something flickered in his eyes.
"I told you what I was given."
"That information came from you," Ethan snapped.
Before Damien could respond, another message appeared on the screen—this one unmistakable.
A live feed.
It showed Damien entering a private meeting earlier that day. A shadowed figure across the table. Money changing hands.
Ethan stared.
"This isn't what it looks like," Damien said sharply.
"Then tell me what it is," Ethan replied, voice low, dangerous.
Silence.
That was the worst answer.
"You used me," Ethan said. "Just like everyone else."
Damien stepped forward. "Ethan—"
"Don't," Ethan cut in. "I trusted you. I warned you about my people. My routes. My weaknesses."
He laughed once, bitter. "I even warned you about myself."
Damien's jaw clenched. "You think I'd sell you out?"
"I think," Ethan said, eyes burning, "that you never stopped choosing your war over me."
That hit.
Damien looked away first.
"Leave," Ethan said.
"What?"
"Before I forget everything I still feel," Ethan said. "Before I turn you into another enemy."
The words landed like a blade.
Damien nodded once, stiffly. "If that's what you believe."
He turned toward the door.
"Damien," Ethan said quietly.
Damien stopped—but didn't turn.
"If you walk out now," Ethan continued, "don't come back."
For a moment, it looked like Damien might say something.
He didn't.
The door closed behind him.
An hour later, Ethan learned the truth.
Too late.
The footage was fake. The meeting staged. The money traceable—to the same faction responsible for the massacre years ago.
The same star–moon syndicate.
Ethan crushed the tablet in his hand.
Damien had tried to protect him.
And Ethan had driven him straight into enemy territory.
Outside the city, a single shot echoed into the night.