Submitting to my Ex Uncle-Chapter 239

The city looked quieter at night. The glass walls of the penthouse caught the reflection of the skyline.

Carlos sat on the edge of the sofa, with a tumbler of whiskey resting loosely in his hand. His gaze was fixed on the night outside, watching the faint drizzle run down the window. His suit jacket was tossed over the armrest, his tie loosened, and his patience stretched thin.

Landon entered without knocking. He was dressed in black. He looked so carefree, stupid, young, and dumb.

Carlos didn’t turn. "You’re late."

Landon poured himself a drink before answering. "I’m still here. Aren’t I?"

"Here," Carlos repeated under his breath, the word dripping with quiet disdain. "That’s what people say when they’ve lost their edge."

Landon took a slow sip, ignoring the jab. He leaned against the counter. His gaze flicked briefly to the monitors on the far wall. They were security footage of the city streets, traffic loops, and people who didn’t know they were being watched.

"You’ve got your men circling Amara’s place," Landon said. "That’s a mistake."

Carlos’s jaw flexed. "It’s me being ten steps ahead."

"It’s a bit stupid. She isn’t the main target, just a bait to get the fishes swimming out," Landon corrected. "And messages get intercepted. Dominic won’t let it slide."

Carlos went silent. His silence was heavy.

Landon moved closer, lowering his voice. "You wanted my help because I think differently from your men. So, let’s start thinking differently."

Carlos turned finally. The years of power sat heavily on him. His stare was sharp enough to cut through the smoke that lingered between them.

He took another drag from his cigarette, before dumping it on the floor, and burying it beneath his feet.

"You don’t know Dominic. Stop being arrogant about it." Carlos said.

Landon smiled faintly. "I do. I grew up watching him. I watched him. His precision. His control, and the way he protects what’s his. It’s not power that drives him. It’s possession."

Carlos set his glass down, a small clink echoing through the room. "And that’s why we’ll take it all from him. Piece by piece."

The sound of thunder rolled distantly.

Carlos stood and crossed to the bar, refilling his drink. His movements were calm, but his voice wasn’t. "Dominic built an empire on fear and silence. You know what men like him forget?"

Landon raised a brow. "What’s that?"

"That everything breaks," Carlos said. "All it takes is one person to start talking."

Landon watched him carefully. "You mean Celeste." He scoffed after his words.

Carlos didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

Landon straightened. "You can’t touch her."

"Can’t?" Carlos turned, his tone cutting. "Or shouldn’t?"

Landon’s voice was low, deliberate. "If you touch her, Dominic will burn down half this city to find you. And if you think you can win that kind of war, you’re delusional."

Carlos smiled, slow and measured. "Then we won’t start a war. We’ll end one before it begins."

Carlos pressed a button on the table, and one of the screens flickered to a different feed of grainy surveillance footage.

It was a building. A familiar one. Dominic’s office tower.

Landon’s eyes narrowed. "What is this?"

"Information," Carlos said. "We have someone inside his office. Someone who knows his schedule, his movements, and his weak spots at work."

Landon’s tone sharpened. "You’re lying."

"Am I?" Carlos tilted his head. "Someone’s been feeding us intel for weeks. Someone close enough to know when he leaves the city. When he sleeps. When he doesn’t."

Landon studied the screen, his mind moving quickly. "Who?"

Carlos didn’t answer right away. He watched the monitor, and watched the small blinking dot that tracked movement across the map.

"It’s someone he trusts," Carlos said finally. "Someone who doesn’t even realize they’ve already betrayed him."

Landon stepped closer. "You’re something else."

Carlos’s gaze flicked up. "So are you."

Landon set his glass down. "If you want my advice—"

"I don’t." He cut him off.

"You’ll need me," Landon finished, unbothered. "He’ll strip everything that makes you a man of influence before he spills a drop of blood."

Carlos leaned back. He parted his lips to reply but from the corner of the room, a phone buzzed once on the table. Carlos picked it up, listened in silence, and then ended the call.

He looked at Landon. "The girl’s not home."

"Amara?"

Carlos nodded. "Not since last night. But Dominic has eyes there. Someone, or should I say people are watching her for him."

Landon swore under his breath. "Then that means he already knows we’re circling."

Carlos dropped the phone back onto the table, his fingers tapping twice against the glass surface. "He’s not clueless, then," he said finally. "He knows."

Landon moved closer, his jaw set. "Then we need to pull back from Amara’s street. You’ve got too many men in one place."

Carlos didn’t blink. "No one pulls back. Not yet."

"Carlos—"

"I said not yet." His tone cut through the room, steady and final. "He’s watching, yes. But that’s good. Let him. He thinks he’s seeing everything. That’s the only way we’ll get him to make a mistake."

Landon ignored the jab this time. He poured another drink but didn’t touch it. "You’re playing too close, and Elias has been shaky lately. He’s already under pressure. The last thing we need is him slipping. If Dominic’s men corner him—"

"Elias won’t slip," Carlos interrupted calmly. "He knows who keeps his name clean."

Landon frowned. "He’s not stable. You’ve seen it yourself. He was in love with that girl."

Carlos finally turned fully toward him, eyes sharp, calm, and cold. "Elias isn’t just another man under me, Landon. He’s mine. I know how far I can push him."

Landon crossed his arms. "You trust him too much."

"No," Carlos said evenly. "I control him too well."

Landon exhaled sharply through his nose. "So that’s your plan? Keep the board spinning and wait until he trips?"

Carlos looked at him. "Everything that’s about to happen is already in motion. Dominic doesn’t know it yet, but he’s surrounded by his own undoing."

Landon frowned. "You mean Elias."

Carlos didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Landon gave a dry laugh. "If he cracks, he’ll take half your cover with him."

"Then I’ll handle it," Carlos said quietly. "Personally."

"Tell me what you really want out of this," Landon said after a moment. "You’ve got men, money, power. What’s left that you’re this desperate to break him for?"

Carlos looked out toward the skyline again. "It’s not about breaking him. It’s about reminding him that the empires he built were all from me. Me! He used to understand that."

"And Celeste?" Landon asked carefully. "Where does she fit into your reminders?"

Carlos’s jaw tightened once. "She doesn’t." Carlos finally turned back toward him, his voice even again. "Focus on your job, Landon. Make sure the accounts move as planned. Keep the feeds running, and don’t interfere with Elias."

Landon didn’t move. "I—"

"I said don’t worry about him." Carlos’s tone left no space for argument. "Elias won’t crack. He owes me too much to even breathe without my permission."

Landon stared at him for a long moment before stepping back. "Then I hope your leash holds."

Carlos’s gaze was fixed on the screens again. He watched the blinking dots, the faint outlines of cars circling Amara’s neighborhood, and the ghostly shapes of men walking under streetlights. "It will," he said.

The door shut behind Landon.