Sinful Alliance

Chapter 15

The scent of burning tobacco lingered in the air as Vincent leaned back in his worn leather chair, a smug smirk playing on his lips. The haze of smoke clouded the dimly lit room as he exhaled, his cold blue eyes glinting with unrelenting ambition.

"Sir, we've got him cornered," one of his men reported, standing nervously by the door.

"Excellent," Vincent replied, taking another drag from his cigar. "Dominic won't know what hit him."

Vincent's rise to power hadn't come easily. Born into poverty and raised amid violence, he'd learned from an early age that only the strong survived. From petty crime to organized chaos, Vincent had climbed the ranks of the city's underworld, fueled by an insatiable hunger for revenge and retribution. His father had been betrayed by those he trusted most, and now it was Vincent's turn to make them pay, one step at a time.

"Get everyone ready. Tonight, we make our move," he commanded, crushing the remnants of his cigar into the ashtray.

"Of course, sir," the henchman nodded before leaving the room.

Dominic had always been the thorn in Vincent's side, the last obstacle between him and total control of the city. They'd clashed numerous times over the years, each encounter more violent than the last. It all began when Dominic had thwarted Vincent's attempt to assassinate a high-ranking member of the rival family. From that day forward, their bitter rivalry had only grown fiercer, neither man willing to back down.

Vincent closed his eyes, replaying their last confrontation in his mind. He could still hear the metallic clang of their weapons colliding, feel the sweat and blood dripping from his brow, taste the bitterness of defeat. But not this time; this time, Dominic would fall. He'd finally have his revenge, and with it, the city would be his to rule.

"Sir," the henchman returned, interrupting Vincent's thoughts. "Everything is ready."

"Good." Vincent rose from his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "Tonight, we end this."

As he followed his men out of the room, Vincent couldn't help but revel in the anticipation that coursed through his veins. Despite the darkness that surrounded him, he felt alive, more so than ever before. Soon, the city would bow to him, and Dominic would be nothing more than a memory.

"Remember," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible above the sound of the wind whipping through the streets, "only the strong survive." And Vincent intended to prove that he was the strongest of them all.

The wind whispered through the narrow streets, carrying the scent of rain and an undercurrent of danger. Sarah hurried through the shadows, her heart pounding in her chest as she clutched the leather-bound book she'd borrowed from Dominic's library. She adored the tales of love and adventure it contained, but tonight, the words blurred together, her thoughts consumed by the growing tension between Dominic and Vincent.

"Sarah!" a voice called out, and she turned to see Anna jogging to catch up with her.

"Anna," she breathed, relieved. "Have you heard anything?"

"Nothing since yesterday. Dominic is trying to keep me out of it, but I know he's worried."

Sarah bit her lip, worry etching lines across her forehead. She and Dominic had been friends for years - their bond forged in the fire of shared loss and mutual understanding. He was her rock, her protector, and now that Vincent threatened everything they held dear, she couldn't help but feel responsible.

"Maybe we should just leave," she whispered, her eyes darting around the dimly lit street. "Start fresh somewhere else."

"Are you serious?" Anna scoffed, her dark eyes narrowing. "You know he'll never go for that."