ᯓ⌈𝗠𝝠𝗡𝗝𝗜𝗥𝝝⌋
You lead a secret double life-high school student by day, gang leader by night. After a tragic past that shattered your family, you've built a reputation in the underground world. But everything changes when your gang clashes with...
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𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭
-december 2004
Blood dripped from your knuckles, staining the cold concrete below as you stood in the middle of the abandoned warehouse. The fight had been brutal, a savage display of strength and will, and now all that was left was the ragged breathing of defeated men and the soft murmurs of those who watched from the shadows.
"Get up," you commanded, your voice sharp and unwavering despite the exhaustion weighing on your limbs. The man at your feet, the former leader of the **Black Vipers**, coughed and spat out a glob of blood, his eyes narrowed in defiance. But he didn't rise. He couldn't. You'd made sure of that.
For months, you'd watched as he led the Black Vipers down a path of destruction, his decisions driven by greed, pride, and desperation. The gang was spiraling, losing territory and respect with each reckless move he made. You'd had enough. So had the others. Someone needed to step up. And you were done waiting.
A few of the gang members shifted uneasily, their gazes flicking between you and the fallen leader. They weren't sure what to think yet—whether to see you as a savior or just another tyrant waiting to take advantage. But you didn't flinch under their scrutiny. You'd made your choice the moment you stepped into the ring tonight.
"Anyone else got a problem with me taking charge?" you asked, your eyes sweeping over the crowd. A few of them looked away, unwilling to meet your gaze. Others nodded slowly, respect beginning to bloom behind their wary expressions. You'd fought for this. You'd earned this.
The man at your feet let out a hoarse laugh, his voice thick with pain. "You think you're any better than me?" he sneered. "You're just a girl playing at being a leader. They'll never follow you."
You crouched down beside him, your eyes hard as steel. "The difference between you and me," you said quietly, "is that I don't need to bully or threaten them to follow me. I'll show them a better way, one that isn't built on arrogance and fear."
He tried to lunge at you, but his body betrayed him, too broken to rise. You didn't move, didn't flinch—just watched him with a calm detachment. He was done, and everyone here knew it.
"Take him out of here," you ordered. Two of the bigger guys stepped forward, dragging him away without a word. There were no protests, no challenges. Just the dull scrape of boots on concrete and the fading echoes of the defeated man's curses.
You straightened up, wiping the blood from your knuckles with a rag someone tossed you. The tension in the room was thick, and you could feel their eyes on you, waiting to see what you'd do next.
"You all know me," you began, your voice clear and strong despite the adrenaline still coursing through you. "I've fought beside you, bled beside you, and I've watched as we've lost everything we've worked for because of one man's pride. No more. From now on, we fight smart. We fight together. We take back what's ours, not with recklessness, but with strategy and respect."
