Submitting to my Ex Uncle-Chapter 196

Jim looked around the place.

His breath misted in the cold air of the warehouse. The building was large, and high and forgotten. Drops of water leaked from some unseen leak in the ceiling.

Crates stacked one after the other, and other more filled the corners, with abandoned goods left to rot. Dust clung to them, cobwebs lined the edges, but inside those crates weren’t useless relics, they were treasures. The kind men killed for. The kind men died for.

And tonight, he and his men were standing guard over them. The traitor had been killed but before he died, connections were made.

Dominic had given the order himself. He told them the hour the people would arrive, who they were, and exactly the amount of crates they’d carry. He asked Jim to stop them. To simply stop them, with no blood bath.

Jim knew what that meant. Dominic wasn’t asking for slaughter. He wasn’t asking for the kind of bloodbath these crates could provoke. He only wanted a message delivered. Just a sharp message, clean enough to avoid unnecessary deaths.

Jim adjusted the grip of his tie on his neck, and his eyes scanned the dark expanse of the warehouse. The night stretched long. His men stood scattered, some were hidden behind crates, and some were crouched by the pillars. Every tick of his watch was a countdown to the inevitable.

11:59.

His gut tightened.

12:00.

The sound finally came.

Boots began to walk around. The boots were quiet, but there were plenty of them. Shadows spilled in from the broken doors.

Jim raised his hand, and made a silent order. His men lifted their rifles, but no one fired. Dominic’s voice stayed fresh in his mind.

"Don’t start the war. Just stop them." Dominic had warned.

"Not one step further," Jim called, his voice booming across the hollow space. His men shifted in unison, stepping out from the shadows, with their weapons aimed, and ready. "These goods aren’t yours. Leave them where they are and walk away." 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

He never thought he’d one day do Dominic’s bidding. However, that was just the way life goes. He needed to survive.

The intruders froze for a heart beat. Their eyes darted, counting numbers, and measuring strength with the men before them. Then, slowly, wicked grins stretched across their faces.

One of them spat on the ground. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Jim’s jaw locked. "The man telling you to leave alive." He warned. Though he might be advanced in age, and bankrupt, he still knows who he is. He’s still a Lord in the underworld.

Chairman’s men weren’t built for mercy. They weren’t men who backed down when threatened. They were demons who bred on violence.

The first trigger was pulled from one of them.

The shot rang in the hollow warehouse. One of Jim’s men dropped instantly, blood painting the floor beneath him. Then another shot was fired again, that hit straight in the chest before he could even return fire.

"Fire!" Jim yelled, his voice ripping from his throat.

The warehouse exploded with chaos. Bullets broke the silence, and sparks flew as lead tore into steel crates, ricocheting into the walls.

The air was suddenly filled with the stench of gunpowder and blood. Jim ducked behind a stack of crates.

His heart pounded. Yes, Dominic would kill him for even raising a gun, but this was necessary.

Two men were lost already. Two he’d have to carry back to Dominic’s name.

"Push left!" Jim roared, signaling with his hand. His men flanked wide, spraying suppressive fire. Chairman’s men screamed as bullets ripped through them, and their bodies hitting the concrete with sickening thuds. Still, they kept coming, wild, and reckless, laughing as they got shot, as if the bloodlust made them stronger.

Jim’s men returned every bullet, cutting them down one after another. The screams grew louder, then fewer, and then turned to groans.

Jim’s arm burned, but he kept firing. His eyes turned sharp, and his teeth clenched. He wasn’t going to lose more men tonight.

The firefight stretched like forever, then ended in a breath.

Silence fell upon the place, as if the world paused.

The acrid haze of smoke and gunpowder hung heavy in the air. Bodies littered the ground. Chairman’s men, most of them, lay still, riddled with bullets, and blood pooling beneath them.

Only a handful remained. They were panting, and trembling, with their guns hanging loose. Their eyes flickered between Jim’s steady rifle and the corpses of their comrades.

Jim stood tall. His chest heaved, but his hands were still steady on his weapon. He spat blood to the side, wiped the sweat from his brow, and stepped forward.

"You think this was yours for the taking?" Jim’s voice cracked through the silence, sharp and commanding. His boots splashed through blood as he moved closer. "You think you can just walk into my Dominic’s city, touch his goods, and walk away alive?"

The surviving men scoffed, while some chuckled, but none dared move.

Jim stopped. His glare burned into them. He lifted his gun, then lowered it with slow, deliberate control. His voice dropped.

"Dominic Cross sent me here! Dominic sent me, you idiots!" He yelled, hitting his hand on his chest like a beast. "Now go back and tell your Chairman this. Dominic knows about his little illegal business. He knows every route. Every deal, and every hand in his pocket. He knows. And if your boss doesn’t stop, the next time—" Jim kicked one of the crates hard. The sound disturbed the temporary peace of the place. "—he won’t just lose men. He’ll lose everything."

The surviving men breathed in. Their eyes widened, and their shoulders stiffened as ambition twisted inside them. Dominic’s name was a curse and a crown.

For a long, heavy moment, they stared at Jim and his men with that hunger for blood still burning in their eyes. It was madness to want more after the slaughter they’d just survived. It was more madness to look at Jim and think they could still take him. For they know who he is, even without the influence of Dominic.

However, self-preservation was stronger.

One of them tapped the other on the shoulder, muttering low. Then another tapped on the man close to him. Slowly, they shifted back, step by step, retreating while they still had breath in their lungs.

Jim watched until they disappeared into the night. Only when the warehouse settled again into silence did he exhale, the fury still boiling in his veins.

Two of his men were dead. More were bleeding. But Dominic’s message had been delivered. And it would reach the Chairman’s ears.

Now, he can collect his full payment.