Chapter 237: Masked Stakes
The vehicle finally began to slow, pulling off the highway and into a wide, open lot. Max watched through the tinted window as the SUV rolled toward what appeared to be an abandoned ice rink venue.
There was a single, long building surrounded by a cracked, weed-split car park. Above it, a faded sign clung to rusted poles, once proudly displaying a swirling ice skate, now barely legible under the streaks of time and weather. The letters were chipped and crooked, and a massive billboard stood nearby with a simple, clear message: CLOSED.
If someone were just driving by, they’d easily assume the place had been out of business for years.
But of course, like most things with gangs and shady dealings, the truth was hidden in plain sight.
Anyone looking closer might’ve noticed the scattered cars lined throughout the lot, dozens of them, all expensive, glossy, and clearly not the kind of vehicles ordinary folks drove. Some had drivers waiting patiently inside, others had guards posted nearby. A few sat empty, but all radiated money and power.
Eventually, the SUV pulled into one of the front parking slots, perfectly reserved like it was expecting them.
Max glanced around as the engine cut off.
VIP treatment? Or just making sure we’re in the spotlight? he wondered.
’The fact that this "special event" is happening in a place like this... I can’t tell if that’s clever or a red flag,’ Max thought to himself. ’The White Tiger Gang never messed with stuff like this. Too chaotic. Too many risks. Too many unknowns.’
They made their way toward the front entrance. One of the thugs accompanying them produced a key and inserted it into the rusted lock. With a sharp twist, the door creaked open.
Once Max and Chad stepped inside, the thug immediately turned and locked the door behind them with the same casual precision.
It took a moment for their eyes to adjust.