Jillian had just finished settling her grandmother into Adelaide Carter's home, making sure she was comfortable and safe. But safety was temporary—she knew that. Victor had already made one move against them, and if she didn't act fast, he would strike again.
With her jaw set in determination, Jillian climbed into the old pickup truck where Leo was already waiting behind the wheel. Dante sat in the passenger seat, silent but alert, as if he were expecting trouble on the way. The drive to the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town was tense, the hum of the engine the only sound between them.
As they approached, Jillian glanced around, making sure they hadn't been followed. The warehouse had once been a supply storage facility, but now it was nothing more than a forgotten shell of its former self—a place perfect for planning what came next.
Leo parked near the entrance, and they all stepped out cautiously. The warehouse smelled of dust and old metal, the moonlight casting long shadows through broken windows. Inside, crates and rusted machinery littered the space, remnants of an industry long gone.
Dante grabbed a lantern and set it on an overturned crate, illuminating their makeshift meeting spot. Jillian paced, her mind racing.
"Victor won't stop," she finally said, breaking the silence. "We all know that. The fire was just a message. If we let this slide, he'll come back with something worse."
Leo sat down on a crate, running a hand through his hair. "I hate to say it, but you're right. He's got the upper hand right now. He's controlling everything from the shadows, while we're reacting to his moves."
Dante folded his arms. "Then we stop reacting. We go after him first."
Jillian met his gaze. "How?"
Dante smirked. "By cutting off his power. His men, his resources, his leverage over this town. We start small—take away his control piece by piece until he has nowhere left to run."
Leo whistled. "That's risky. If we go after his men, they'll come back swinging."
Jillian exhaled sharply. "Then we make sure they don't get back up."
For the first time in a long while, she felt something stir within her. No more hiding. No more waiting for the next attack. It was time to strike back.
Dante nodded, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Then let's get to work."
The dim light flickered in the abandoned warehouse as Jillian, Dante, and Leo stood over a crude map spread across an old wooden table. Dante tapped a marked location with his finger—a small auto repair shop on the outskirts of town.
"This is where Victor's men operate when they're not causing chaos," Dante explained. "It's more than just a business—it's one of his main outposts. They use it to launder money, store weapons, and regroup after their jobs."
Leo crossed his arms. "Taking it down would send a message, but it won't be easy. It's always guarded."
Jillian's eyes narrowed. "Then we don't go in head-on. We hit them when they least expect it."
Dante smirked. "I like the way you think."
She leaned forward, pointing to a small service road behind the shop. "This alley here. It's where they receive supply shipments. If we can sabotage their next delivery, we'll cut off their resources and cause panic."
Leo nodded. "And if we get lucky, we might even find something that could expose Victor."
Dante cracked his knuckles. "Alright then. We move at midnight. Get ready."
Jillian felt the weight of the moment—this wasn't just a fight anymore. This was war.
The night air was crisp, carrying the distant sounds of crickets and rustling leaves. Jillian, Dante, and Leo crouched behind a rusted chain-link fence, watching the dimly lit auto repair shop in the distance. The building sat at the end of a dirt road, its only signs of life being the occasional flicker of a cigarette ember from the guards stationed outside. A single truck was parked near the back, its cargo still untouched.
"That's our target," Dante whispered, motioning toward the truck. "If we can disable it, we'll cripple their next supply run."
Leo checked his watch. "Delivery is in fifteen minutes. If we're doing this, it has to be now."
Jillian exhaled sharply. This was it—the first real move against Victor Holloway. No more running. No more hiding.
They moved quickly and quietly, sticking to the shadows as they approached the truck. Jillian's pulse pounded in her ears as she crouched near the wheel well, reaching into her pocket for the small knife Dante had given her earlier.
"Slash the tires, cut off their escape," Dante had told her. "Be fast, be quiet."
She pressed the blade into the rubber, feeling the resistance before it gave way with a soft hiss. One tire down. Three to go.
Meanwhile, Dante and Leo worked on disabling the engine. Leo popped the hood, his fingers moving swiftly as he pulled out essential wires. Dante kept watch, a knife in his grip in case things went south.
Just as Jillian moved to the next tire, she heard voices. Loud. Close.
"Shit," Leo muttered. "They're coming."
They barely had time to react before the back door of the shop swung open. A tall, burly man stepped out, followed by two others. They were laughing about something, completely unaware of the three figures crouching by their truck.
Jillian held her breath. If they got caught now, everything would be over before it even began.
Dante motioned for them to move—slowly, carefully. They backed away, creeping along the side of the building toward a pile of discarded tires. Just as they ducked behind it, one of the men stopped and sniffed the air.
"You smell that?" the man asked, his laughter fading.
"Smell what?" one of the others grumbled.
"I dunno. Just feels off." He turned toward the truck. "Something's wrong."
Jillian tensed as the man walked over, his boots crunching against the gravel. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her knife. If he saw the slashed tire, they were dead.
The man paused by the truck, squinting in the darkness. Then—
A shout from inside the shop.
"Yo, get in here! We got a problem!"
The man hesitated, glancing back at the door before shaking his head. "Damn it. This better be important." He turned and jogged inside, leaving the truck behind.
Jillian exhaled slowly, her body still rigid with adrenaline.
Leo leaned close. "That was too close."
Dante smirked. "But it worked. Truck's useless now."
Jillian nodded, but she knew this was just the beginning. Victor would know someone had sabotaged his men. And when he found out, he wouldn't just sit back.
The war had truly begun.
The trio didn't stop moving until they were well beyond the repair shop, slipping through the darkened streets and back toward the abandoned warehouse that had become their base. Jillian's heart was still pounding as she replayed the close call over and over in her mind. They had succeeded in disabling the truck, but the uneasy feeling in her gut wouldn't go away.
Victor would find out. It was only a matter of time.
Dante pushed open the warehouse's heavy metal door, and the three of them stepped inside. The dim glow of a hanging bulb flickered overhead, casting long shadows against the dusty concrete floor. Leo dropped into one of the old chairs, running a hand through his hair.
"We got lucky," he muttered. "If that guy had looked down…"