Chapter 224: Debts and Betrayals
Chad Stern had always believed he could talk, or party, his way out of anything. Tonight, that illusion cracked like glass.
Chrono’s promise still echoed in his ears: Five minutes, Chad. That’s all you’ve got before the Black Hounds arrive.Chrono never bluffed, never padded the truth, never gave more time than he said. The moment the words left the fixer’s mouth, Chad had understood there would be no miracle exit.
Five minutes shrank to four, then three. Now, every second felt like a hammer blow. The private K-TV suite, its velvet couches littered with empty soju bottles and glitter-dusted champagne flutes, suddenly seemed airless, claustrophobic, a glittering cage with neon-pink bars. There was literally nowhere to run. Chad had tried once already, sprinting through back alleys until his lungs burned. The Black Hounds found him in an hour.
He hadn’t even been able to keep quiet long enough to board a train out of the city.
So, he knelt. Right in the center of the karaoke room’s lacquered floor, knees bruising against the cheap parquet, forehead pressed to the ground, lungs quivering like kicked dogs. Through the curtain of his sweat-slick hair he peeked up at the man who had just entered with two shadows at his flanks.
"D-Darius," Chad whispered, voice hoarse, "you have to understand. I want to pay you back, every last credit. But Chrono’s cut me off. If he won’t work with me, how am I supposed to, "
A boot heel clicked. Two men and one women filled the doorway now, blotting out the corridor’s neon. They wore matching black trench coats that brushed their ankles like ink spills. The two in back studied the room with predator casualness. The one in front was unmistakable.
Darius Vale.
Leader of the Black Hounds, the most feared organized crew in Notting Hill City. Rumor painted him as ex-military, special forces maybe, the kind who carried secrets heavier than their own rifles. A jagged scar slashed across his right eye, testimony to some story no one dared to ask about. His coat’s fur trim framed a face carved from stone, all sharp angles and colder resolve.