When Kylo Johnson - an aspiring dancer and college students finally gets the opportunity of a lifetime to attend his dream school in the bustling city of New York City. After a night of unfortunate events he finds himself in the hands of the city's...
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"YOU FOUND ANYTHING"
As I enter the building I can hear gunshots coming from upstairs, a few cries for help followed by more gunshots. I adjusted the phone in the crook on my neck trying to tune out the ruckus happening above me so I could hear Maurice better in my ear. I can make out the sounds of him typing away on his keyboard, lips smacking together and I know he's making that dumb concentrated face of his where the veins on his forehead start to show.
"I've looked all over the world at all the intimates being released within the next ninety days and none of these names seem to stand out to me," he answers, a low sigh coming from him shortly after. "the most interesting person on this list is this rapper I listen to but that's about all I can find for now. What about the address I sent you? Did you find something there?"
"The only thing I found here was more mess to clean up," I tell him as I make my way up the stairs of the building, a couple of my men leading the way as we pass the lifeless bodies of the men who were staking out here in the building. Their blood smeared the walls, the bullet holes in their bodies dripping more onto the ground and I had to watch my step so it wouldn't get on my shoes.
I entered a room that had already had the door burst off the hinges. My men began ransacking the place, overturning furniture, and tearing through drawers in search of any information. Blood. Thick and crimson, spreading wetly across the tile flooring of the room. The scent, sharp and sweet, is almost overwhelming, catching in my throat like a bitter bite of an ancient iron sword. I look to the left to see one of my men firing off another round into one of the bloodied men on the floor, his fragile body sprawled across the polished flooring, blood from the jagged, flesh-torn hole in his head seeping into his clothes and staining the white-blonde curls in his head.
I removed the phone from my ear before turning to the rest of the men in the room. "Anything?" I asked aloud getting everyone's attention.
"Not yet sir."
I couldn't withhold the eye roll that came over me, pupils rolling to the damaged ceiling before returning to the phone in my hands. "I thought you said this place would have something?" I said to Maurice.
"I said it may . . ." he corrects and there's another roll from my eyes. "this little hideout is just a place where associates of that guy your dad killed. There was a fifty-fifty chance there could be some variable information there. I don't know why you're so strung up on this."
"Because my father is hiding something and it's not like it's some irrelevant little piece of information," I tell him as I pace through the chaos. "he knows something important and he doesn't want me to know."
"That might be for a good reason Stone, have you ever thought about that?"
"No. I haven't."
I walk around the dimly lit room of the building, watching as one of my men fixated on one of the ornate paintings in the room. As his clothes grazed the frame, I saw a subtle shift. Curiosity piqued. "Wait," I tell him, inspecting closer. "think you might have spoken too soon Maurice," I say into the phone as I remove the painting from the wall discovering a hidden safe nestled behind the artwork.
"What have you found?" his voice was like gravel, tinged with suspicion.
"It's a safe. Behind a painting." I tell him eyeing the lock in the safe.
Without a word, I withdrew my gun, the metal glinting ominously in the low light ready to aim and take fire. The gunshot echoed through the room as the lock shattered into pieces. The safe door swung open, revealing its contents: stacks of cash, jewels, and a vanilla folder filled with a few papers. I felt my steely gaze softened slightly as I surveyed the items within.
"Wait FaceTime me, lemme see," Curiosity overtook Maurice's voice and I drowned him out, holstering my gun. I reached inside the safe and grabbed the folder with the papers inside. Upon opening it I'm met with a discarded check. Eight million dollars were made out to an unknown receiver because the name had been scratched out with black ink, purposely so. I look at the top to see who wrote the check and my eyes widen at the words before me.
Mayor Adam Chambers.
"You are not gonna believe this," I felt a chuckle leave me as I spoke into the phone. "I'm gonna send you this picture. See if you can decipher who was receiving this check from Mayor Chambers."
"Chambers!?" Maurice repeats, before letting a laugh of his own fly out. "Oh, I gotta see this shit. Old sleezy ass I knew he was no good."
I took a picture of the check and sent it to Maurice ending our call as the rest of my men took the rest of the things from the safe. The discovery of the check deposit slip with the mayor's name on it to a scratched-out person's bank account could potentially lead to significant leverage over Chambers. He's been very in the business of what goes on underground as of late. Providing the NYPD with more equipment and money, installing more security cameras around the city, and everything else to make it seem like he's trying to put an end to the shit show that is this city. Mayor Adam Chambers, a supposed ally, was clandestinely funding rival gangs, fueling chaos within the same city he claims to be helping.
I could use this for blackmail, coercion, or to manipulate Chambers for my own benefit. However, it also poses risks, as it could attract unwanted attention from law enforcement or political rivals if mishandled. I felt a bit of rage ignite within me as I processed the idea. The mayor, the very figurehead of New York is the reason my grip on the city was slipping.
Who the hell could he be sending money to, and what about it is so important that he felt the need to hide it out in this run-down building with these weak excuses for gangsters keeping guard? Pathetic.
Walking through the dimly lit alley, my mind swirled with frustration and confusion. Approaching the gleaming Rolls Royce parked at the end of the alley, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The weight of my father's distrust hung heavily on my shoulders. Despite the successful efforts I've proven to him over and over again, he still regards me with skepticism, withholding information and doubting my ability to lead the family.
I climbed into the back seat, the scent of leather enveloping me as I sank into the plush interior. Turning the key in the ignition, the driver glanced at my reflection in the rearview mirror, his sharp features illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights. He started the engine and pulled out onto the deserted street, the purr of the car echoing off the empty buildings. As we navigated the winding roads of the city, my thoughts drifted back to my childhood, to the days when my father had been my hero, my mentor.
But now, as I wrestled with the complexities of power and loyalty, I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever earn his trust. As the city skyline loomed in the distance, I knew that the path ahead would be fraught with danger and betrayal. But I'm determined to prove myself to him, to carve out my own legacy in this ruthless world, even if it means defying my father's expectations and doing my own thing my own way and that's all gonna start when I have a little chat with Mayor Chambers.
