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Chapter 16 - The Blood Feud

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The concrete tunnel was thick with smoke and the metallic smell of blood.

The Croft forces were entirely decimated. Bodies littered the damp ground. Arthur walked slowly through the carnage, his rifle lowered but ready, his gray eyes scanning the shadows for the architect of his misery.

“Malcolm!” Arthur roared, his voice cracking with raw adrenaline.

A gunshot rang out from behind an overturned maintenance cart. The bullet grazed Arthur’s shoulder, tearing through his tactical vest, but he didn't even flinch.

Arthur marched toward the cart, ignoring the pain. He kicked the metal cart aside with brutal force.

Malcolm Croft was sitting on the ground, clutching a bleeding wound in his stomach, his gun empty. The older man looked pathetic, his aristocratic arrogance completely stripped away by the reality of his defeat.

“You think killing me changes anything?” Malcolm spat, coughing up blood. “The Commission will never accept a waitress as your queen. They will come for her, Arthur. They will always come for her.”

“Let them come,” Arthur said softly, his voice a lethal, terrifying whisper. “I will build a mountain of their corpses to keep her safe.”

Arthur raised his sidearm, pointing it directly at Malcolm’s forehead.

“This is for poisoning the wine,” Arthur stated coldly. “And this is for threatening my child.”

Before Arthur could pull the trigger, Leo burst through the smoke, his face pale and panicked.

“Boss!” Leo shouted, grabbing Arthur’s arm. “We just got a transmission from the penthouse. It’s Chloe. She’s gone into early labor. The stress triggered it. She’s in the underground clinic right now.”

Arthur froze. The bloodlust in his eyes vanished, instantly replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror.

He looked down at Malcolm Croft, who was laughing a wet, sickening laugh.

“Looks like you might lose everything after all,” Malcolm sneered.

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Arthur didn't shoot him. He turned to Leo. “Keep him alive. Let him suffer.”

Arthur dropped his weapon and sprinted toward the tunnel exit, abandoning the war to fight for the only thing that actually mattered.

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