The Atlas Lyons Club: Roaring Ambitions

Blood and Business

The night outside The Atlas Lyons Club had grown colder, and the streets were nearly empty, save for the occasional flicker of headlights as cars passed through the wet, rain-slicked streets. Oren and JDoms stood in the alley for a moment longer, their breath visible in the crisp air. The weight of the night still clung to them, like a fog they couldn't quite shake.

"Marcus and Holmes... they're not going to be easy to deal with," JDoms said quietly, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat. "Fifty's slippery too. We've got more eyes on us than I like."

Oren's jaw tightened. He had known from the beginning that taking control of the club wouldn't be clean. Nothing ever was in a place like this. But the deeper they moved into the inner workings of The Atlas Lyons Club, the more it became clear just how entrenched the old power structures were.

"Nothing we didn't expect," Oren muttered, glancing toward the narrow street that ran parallel to the alley. "We'll handle it."

But as they turned to head for the waiting car, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Tall, lean, and dressed in a long coat that seemed to merge with the darkness, Jonny Thornton moved with a confidence that marked him as more than just another Board Member. He'd been watching. Always watching.

"Mr. O," Jonny said, his voice smooth, but with an edge that hinted at his years spent managing the club's finances from behind the scenes. "Heard you made quite an impression tonight."

Oren stopped in his tracks, turning to face Jonny. "That's the idea."

Jonny took a step closer, his eyes flicking between Oren and JDoms. "Marcus and Holmes, they've been around too long. They know how to survive... how to stay on top." He paused, his gaze narrowing. "You're not here to survive, though. Are you?"

Oren's eyes locked onto Jonny's. There was something in his tone—a quiet acknowledgment that the stakes had just gotten higher.

"No," Oren said calmly. "We're here to run this place. And we're not waiting for permission."

A slow smile crept across Jonny's face. "Good. Because Marcus... he's already making moves. Same with Holmes. They don't waste time. Neither should you."

JDoms, standing just behind Oren, stepped forward. "You've got something to say, Jonny?"

Jonny shrugged, hands slipping into his coat pockets. "Only that Marcus has his own game going. Holmes too. They've been leveraging certain... assets. Quietly, of course. You didn't think they'd just sit back and let you two walk in without a fight, did you?"

Oren's eyes narrowed. "What assets?"

Jonny gave a small laugh, shaking his head. "If I told you that, where's the fun? But let's just say it's not money they're playing with. It's people. People who owe them. People who move the pieces when no one's looking."

The car's engine purred behind them, waiting to take them deeper into the night. Oren knew what Jonny was saying without needing to hear the details. Marcus and Holmes weren't just Board Members—they had networks. Hidden strings they pulled without ever stepping out of the shadows.

"What's your play, Jonny?" Oren asked, his voice low, but steady.

Jonny's smile faded slightly, and for the first time, his eyes softened. "I've been with this club longer than most. I know its pulse. You two? You've got something different. You're not like them. You don't wait for the right moment—you make it. And that's why I'm telling you this."

Oren exchanged a quick glance with JDoms. Jonny had always been good with numbers, with risk management. But this was something else—something deeper. A shift in allegiance, or at the very least, a willingness to make sure Oren and JDoms didn't fail before they even got started.

Jonny took a step back, nodding once more. "Don't wait too long to act. Because Marcus? He's already ahead."

With that, he disappeared into the shadows of the alley, leaving Oren and JDoms standing in the cold.

The drive back to Oren's office was silent. JDoms stared out the window, his thoughts elsewhere, while Oren's mind turned over Jonny's words. People. Assets. Marcus had his fingers in something beyond simple investments—something more dangerous. And if Jonny was right, whatever it was had the potential to cripple their hold on the club before they even had the chance to secure it.

As the car rolled to a stop outside the office building, Oren exhaled slowly, his breath fogging up the glass. "We can't wait."

JDoms turned to him, brow furrowed. "You're thinking of moving on Marcus? Now?"

"Not now," Oren said, his voice steady but cold. "Tonight."

Back inside the club, Scotchy Buchanan was behind the bar, wiping down the gleaming surface of the counter as the last of the night's patrons trickled out. His eyes flicked up as Oren and JDoms entered the room. Scotchy had been with The Atlas Lyons Club long enough to know when to stay quiet, and tonight, he didn't say a word.

"Two whiskeys, neat," JDoms said as they approached the bar.

Scotchy nodded and turned to prepare the drinks, but as he poured, his voice dropped low. "Word's been spreading, boys. Heard about Marcus too. Just watch your backs."

Oren's eyes remained locked on the amber liquid as Scotchy set the glasses in front of them. "You know something we don't, Scotchy?"

Scotchy gave a short, dry laugh. "I know Marcus doesn't like to lose. Neither does Holmes. And they're already talking to people who don't like change."

JDoms raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

The bartender's eyes flicked to Oren. "Not sure who yet. But I'll find out."

Oren's fingers tightened around the glass as he lifted it to his lips. "Do that. And let me know the second you hear anything."

Scotchy nodded once, his expression serious. "You'll be the first to know."

As the drinks went down, the air between Oren and JDoms grew heavier. Marcus was making moves, and they weren't just about money. The Atlas Lyons Club was shifting under their feet, and if they didn't act soon, Marcus would consolidate power before they even had the chance to break the old foundations.

JDoms set his empty glass down with a soft clink. "We're doing this tonight?"

Oren stood, his voice firm. "We don't wait."