The Memory Broker

Chapter Three: Shadows of Power

The low hum of conversation filled the dimly lit room as smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling. Riva leaned against the wall, eyes scanning the crowd of sharp-dressed men and women, their faces hidden in the flickering half-light of expensive chandeliers. The place reeked of wealth and danger—the perfect lair for two of the city's most notorious figures: John Crawford and Calvin Melville.

Crawford and Melville were legends in the underworld. Each controlled a different piece of the city's criminal empire—Crawford, the dignified kingpin who ran the high-end smuggling operations and illegal tech trades; Melville, the ruthless enforcer who held dominion over the streets, with his hand in everything from drugs to underground memory trafficking. Together, they owned half the city, and their uneasy alliance was held together by a fragile web of greed and fear.

Tonight, though, their truce was about to be tested.

John Crawford sat at the head of the long oak table, his hands steepled in front of him, fingers adorned with gold rings. He was a tall man, well-dressed in a tailored suit, his silver hair slicked back in a way that made him look more like a CEO than a criminal. His eyes were sharp, calculating every detail of the room.

Opposite him, Calvin Melville leaned back in his chair, a glass of whiskey cradled in his tattooed hand. Melville was a towering figure, built like a brawler, with a wild mess of dark hair and an air of barely-contained violence. His reputation as the enforcer was well-earned—he could tear a man apart with his bare hands if it suited him.

"John," Melville said, breaking the tense silence, his voice low and gravelly, "I don't appreciate being summoned."

Crawford smiled, the corners of his mouth curling upward, but his eyes remained cold. "Calvin, it's not a summons. It's a business meeting. We need to talk about the future."

Melville took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving Crawford's. "We already have a deal. I run the streets, you run the high-end stuff. Everybody gets their piece. So why the sudden need for a 'chat'?"

Crawford leaned forward slightly. "Because things are changing. You've heard about the disappearances."

Melville's eyes narrowed. "People vanish all the time in this city. It's the business we're in."

"Not like this," Crawford said, his tone serious. "These aren't just regular hits or people going off-grid. These are high-level operatives, people from both our organizations—vanishing without a trace. No bodies, no evidence. Just... gone."

Melville set his glass down with a loud clink. "And you think that's my problem because...?"

Crawford's smile faded. "Because it's not just a turf war. It's something bigger. I've been hearing rumors about a new player in the city—someone who's working off the grid, erasing people, erasing their memories. They're taking people who know too much, people who've seen something they shouldn't. It's starting to affect my business."

Melville stared at him for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "You're telling me you believe in those memory-wipe fairy tales? That some bogeyman's out there erasing people's minds?" He shook his head. "You've lost your edge, John."

"I don't care what you believe," Crawford said sharply. "I'm telling you this is real. And it's coming for both of us."

Melville leaned forward, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Let them come. I'll deal with it the same way I deal with every problem. With force."

Crawford raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose to deal with something you can't see? Someone who's rewriting reality around you?"

For the first time, Melville seemed to hesitate. He didn't like to admit it, but Crawford was right about one thing: something strange had been happening in the city. He had lost contact with some of his best men—loyal soldiers who would never just disappear without a word. And yet, they had.

"So what's your plan?" Melville asked, his voice tense.

Crawford leaned back, smoothing his suit jacket as if the weight of the conversation had finally settled on him. "There's someone new in town, a broker. She's been asking questions—digging into things no one else has dared touch. Word is, she's stumbled onto the same trail we have."

"A broker?" Melville snorted. "What's some lowlife dealer got to do with any of this?"

"She's more than just a dealer," Crawford said. "She's in contact with the underground memory forgers, the ones who work outside the system. If anyone knows how to get to the bottom of this, it's her."

Melville's gaze darkened. "You're talking about Riva."

"That's right," Crawford replied, his eyes locking onto Melville's. "And if she knows something, we need to get to her before anyone else does."

For a long moment, Melville was silent, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the table. Finally, he leaned forward, his expression cold and unreadable. "So what do you want? You want me to help you track her down? Bring her in?"

"I want you to work with me, Calvin," Crawford said. "If we're going to survive whatever this is, we need to put our differences aside. You control the streets, I control the high-level contacts. Together, we find out who's pulling the strings. And we stop them."

Melville smirked. "For how long, John? Until you see an opportunity to stab me in the back?"

Crawford smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That depends on you, doesn't it?"

Meanwhile, Riva sat in a quiet corner of the room, observing the two mob bosses from a distance. She had arrived unnoticed, blending into the crowd with the ease of a professional. She had been tracking Crawford and Melville for days, knowing they were her best shot at getting deeper into the conspiracy she and Kellan had uncovered.

Now, watching them spar over their fragile alliance, Riva knew one thing for certain: whatever was coming, these two were just as afraid as she was. And if she didn't act soon, she might find herself caught between two of the most dangerous men in the city—both of whom now knew she held the key to a secret that could destroy them all.

She slipped out of the room, unnoticed, her mind already racing with what she would tell Kellan. The game had just become far more dangerous, and the stakes were higher than ever.