Scene 1: The Money Machine

  Time: 11:00 PM. Location: The Exchange.

  The machine was running perfectly.

  Inside the VIP lounge, the air smelled of success—a mix of expensive perfume, aged cognac, and the crisp scent of fresh banknotes.

  Moon was sitting with Councilman Miller. She wasn't touching him, but the way she leaned in, whispering about "urban zoning laws," made the bloated legislator feel like he was the smartest man in the room. He was spilling secrets about the next highway project just to impress her.

  Cara moved through the floor like a silent hawk. She spotted a waiter holding a tray incorrectly. One sharp look from her, and he straightened his posture instantly. Efficiency was at 99.8%.

  In the back office, Daniel was practically swimming in cash. "Solomon!" Daniel cheered, throwing a stack of bills into the air. "Look at this! Cash Flow is positive 300%! We are printing money! I can buy my dad's Bentley back!"

  I sat at my desk, watching the numbers on my laptop. "Don't get drunk on revenue, Daniel," I said, though I permitted myself a slight nod. "Allocate 40% to the Reserve Fund. We are expanding."

  Meanwhile, down in the underground garage, Gara was covered in grease. He was lying under my Cadillac, swearing at a bolt. "Come on, you stubborn piece of..." CLANK. "Ah! There we go." He slid out from under the car, wiping his hands on a rag. He patted the chassis lovingly. "Boss wants safety?" Gara muttered to himself. "I gave him safety. Level 1 Bulletproof glass. Reinforced door panels. And I just tuned the V8 to outrun a police interceptor. Now, if only he’d let me install the flamethrower..."

  Scene 2: The False Sense of Safety

  Time: 2:00 AM. Closing Time.

  The lights dimmed. The staff went home. The Core Team walked out the back exit into the cool night air of The Bronx.

  We were relaxed. Too relaxed.

  Niko had already hopped on his black Ducati motorcycle. He revved the engine, drowning out the silence. "See you later, losers!" Niko yelled, putting on his helmet. "I’m going to find a poker game. I feel lucky tonight!" He sped off down the alley, leaving us behind.

  Benny walked behind me, carrying a large pepperoni pizza box. He opened it, grabbed a slice with his massive hand, and shoved it into his mouth. "Good cheese," Benny grunted, distracted by the food.

  Daniel and Gara were bickering by the Cadillac. "I'm driving!" Daniel insisted. "I'm the CFO!" "You scratch the rim last time!" Gara argued. "I built this car, I drive it!"

  I walked out the door, stopping under the yellow glow of the streetlamp to check my phone. I pulled a cigarette from my case, tapping it against my wrist.

  Internal Monologue (Solomon): "Revenue is stable. Personnel is stable. But something feels... loose. Archibald’s guards wouldn't be eating pizza. They wouldn't be arguing about who drives. We are merely amateurs with a high-limit credit card. Wealth without security is just a slow-motion bankruptcy."

  I brought the cigarette to my lips, the ritual of logic about to begin.

  Scene 3: The Incident

  THWIP.

  It wasn't a bang. It was the sound of air being torn apart.

  A spark erupted from the metal pillar right next to my head.

  CRACK. The side mirror of the Cadillac exploded.

  My glasses slipped off my nose from the sudden flinch, clattering onto the asphalt. A sharp sting burned my cheek where a shard of glass had sliced the skin.

  Time seemed to slow down.

  I didn't scream. I didn't freeze. My brain processed the data in milliseconds: Suppressed round. High velocity. Missed by 2 centimeters.

  I dropped to my knees instantly. I grabbed my glasses blindly from the ground and rolled—getting grease on my suit—behind the rear tire of the Cadillac.

  "CONTACT!" I hissed, pressing my back against the rubber tire.

  THWIP. THWIP.

  Two more shots.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The sniper realized he missed the primary target (me), so he adjusted for the biggest target available. Benny.

  Benny was mid-chew. But the moment the first bullet hit the car, the "Beast" inside him woke up. Just like that night in the rain with Niko (Chapter 9), his instincts took over before his brain could process.

  Benny twisted his massive torso to the left with unnatural speed.

  RIP.

  The bullet meant for his heart tore through the shoulder padding of his suit jacket, grazing the skin underneath. Blood blossomed on his white shirt.

  "RAAAAGH!" Benny roared. He dropped the pizza. He didn't run away. He ran forward. He stood in front of the Cadillac, using his gigantic body as a human shield to cover me.

  "BOSS! DOWN!" Benny screamed, eyes scanning the darkness like a furious bear.

  Gara, seeing the holes in the car, grabbed his head. "NO! NO!" Gara wailed, tears actually forming in his eyes. "My paint job! I just waxed it! Who shoots a Cadillac?! Are you animals?!"

  Niko came roaring back. He had heard the thwip sounds—his ears were tuned for gunfire. He skidded the bike to a halt, using the engine block as cover. He looked up at the warehouse roof across the street.

  "11 o'clock! 600 meters!" Niko yelled. "He's gone! I saw the muzzle flash fade! Professional! Judging by the sonic crack and the impact crater on the Cadillac... that's heavy artillery! .338 Lapua Magnum or something close!"

  Silence returned to the alley. The assassin hadn't stayed for a gunfight. It was a hit-and-run.

  Scene 4: The Aftermath & Reflections

  Time: 2:45 AM. Dispersed Locations.

  I had dismissed them coldIy. Now, they were alone with their thoughts.

  Daniel (In his apartment): He poured a whiskey, his hands shaking so hard the bottle clinked against the glass. Internal Monologue (Daniel): "I stood there. I just stood there like a statue while Solomon rolled on the ground. If he died... If he died, I go back to being a loser. I go back to my dad's lectures. I can't lose him. I need to buy him a better car. I need to pay for better glass. Money... money is useless if you're dead."

  Gara (In the garage): He was scrubbing the bullet hole on the Cadillac door, muttering furiously. Internal Monologue (Gara): "Stupid Gara. Stupid. Level 1 glass? Should have been Level 3. Why did I save budget on the tires? I told myself it was fine. It wasn't fine. I almost got the Boss killed because I wanted to save $5,000. Never again. Next time, I build a tank."

  Benny (In the gym): SLAM. Benny punched the heavy bag so hard the chain snapped. The bag hit the floor with a heavy thud. He looked at the graze on his shoulder. Internal Monologue (Benny): "Too slow. Pizza makes me slow. Karate cannot punch a bullet. Need to be faster. Need to be... wall."

  Niko (On his rooftop): He was disassembling his rifle, his usual grin replaced by a scowl. Internal Monologue (Niko): "Sayeret Matkal elite? Ha. I'm a joke. I let a shooter set up 600 meters away and I didn't smell him. I got comfortable. I got arrogant. 'Nobody touches us.' Idiot. Today, I wasn't the hunter. I was the prey."

  My Phone Rang.

  It was Moon. "Solomon?" Her voice was soft, laced with genuine worry, not her usual charm. "I heard from Gara. Are you hurt? Do you need... company? Or a doctor?" "I am fine, Moon," I replied, staring at the mirror. "Don't lie to your Intelligence Officer," she whispered. "Please... wear the vest tomorrow." "Noted. Go to sleep." I hung up.

  Thirty seconds later. Cara. "Report," she said. No hello. "Minor laceration. Asset secure," I replied. "Security protocols were insufficient," Cara stated flatly. "I will redraft the perimeter roster. Benny is too big, he draws fire. Niko is too distracted. You need a dedicated detail." "I'm handling it, Cara. Goodnight." "Stay alive, Sir." Click.

  Scene 5: The Market & The Broker

  Time: 3:30 AM. Solomon's Office.

  I sat alone. The anger in my chest was a cold, hard knot.

  I opened my laptop. Tor Network. The Black Market.

  I searched: "High-Value Asset Protection."

  I scrolled past the SEALs (Too moral). I scrolled past the Cartels (Too dirty).

  I found the file. "THE GEMINI TWINS." Luciela (Black Mamba) & Raphaela (Red Centipede). Price: $1.5 Million USD (Discounted).

  Reason for Discount: "Executed previous 2 owners due to payment delays of 48+ hours."

  I smirked. "Perfect."

  I clicked [PURCHASE NOW]. I transferred the $1.5 million in crypto-currency immediately.

  Time: Same moment. Location: Unknown (Deep in the Amazon Jungle).

  In a humid tent filled with servers, a middle-aged Colombian man—The Broker—stared at his screen. A notification blinked red.

  "UNIT SOLD."

  He spat out his cigar. He typed into the encrypted chat.

  Broker: "Confirm transaction? You realize there is a 'No Refund' policy on these two? They are monsters. They killed my cousin last week because he looked at them wrong."

  Solomon_Gats: "I am aware. Do they kill if the paycheck clears on time?"

  Broker: "No. They love money. But they are crazy. Good luck, Gringo. You just bought a hurricane."

  Solomon_Gats: "Ship them. Express delivery."

  I closed the laptop.

  The transaction was done. The "Crazy Sisters" were coming to New York.

  I touched the crack in my glasses.

  "Let the hurricane come," I whispered. "I have work to do."

  End of Chapter 27.

  For my Strategic Investors (Patreon supporters): Thank you for keeping our liquidity high. I’m currently working on adding even more "Insider Intelligence" (Advanced Chapters) to the tiers to ensure your ROI remains top-tier.

  Board of Directors yet, a Rating or Follow is a perfect way to support our hostile takeover of the rankings.

  Stay solvent. ????

  Copyright ? 2026 by Gats VII. All rights reserved. This story is officially published only on Royal Road, Scribble Hub, and Patreon. If you are reading this elsewhere, it has been stolen.