Elias's body ached, the wound in his side pulsing like a second heartbeat. His fingers curled weakly against the floor as he forced himself to stay conscious, his mind racing for a way out.
The man in front of him stepped closer, the dim glow of his cigar casting flickering shadows across his sharp features.
"Since you're about to die," he said, voice smooth and almost amused, "I might as well tell you who I am."
He took another drag, exhaling slowly, letting the smoke curl between them.
"My name is James Devlin Cade. You can call me Dave." He smirked. "Son of Victor Cade."
Elias's breath hitched.
Victor Cade.
The name sent a shiver through his already-weak body. Cade had been a legend—a power broker in the city's underbelly. Feared. Respected. Untouchable. And then—just like Victor Crane—he was gone.
Murdered.
Elias studied the man in front of him. The same sharp features. The same ruthless glint in his eye.
Dave took a step closer, crouching until they were nearly eye level.
"I was in prison," he continued, "for a murder I didn't commit. Spent years rotting in a cell while my father was butchered like an animal." His voice turned sharper, edged with something dangerous. "Then, a month ago, I got out. And I started looking for answers."
He flicked his cigar into a nearby ashtray and leaned forward, locking eyes with Elias.
"And guess what? Turns out I'm not the only one."
He gestured toward Elias's bloodied shirt.
"A random man—half-dead, barely standing—also looking into my father's death." He shook his head, still smirking. "You have no idea what kind of storm you just walked into, do you?"
Elias clenched his jaw. His vision swam slightly, but his thoughts were clearing.
Dave wasn't the enemy. Not yet.
He was looking for the same thing.
"I didn't come for your father," Elias said, voice rough. "I came for Victor Crane."
Dave's eyes darkened. "And that's where our paths cross."
Behind them, Evelyn let out a soft noise of protest—still held at knifepoint by one of Dave's men.
Dave held up a hand. "Relax," he said. "If I wanted him dead, I wouldn't be wasting my breath talking."
He stood, pacing slowly. "The thing is, Voss—I've been pulling at this thread for weeks, and all it's done is tighten around my neck." He glanced back at Elias. "You want to know who killed Crane? Who killed my father?"
Elias nodded once.
Dave's smirk returned.
"Then you and I are going to have a little talk."
Elias exhaled slowly, his body still weak, but his mind sharp.
The game had changed.
And now, he had an unexpected ally.
For better or worse.