Chapter 7 - The Ambush Reversed
We moved quickly and silently through the subterranean tunnel.
By the time Marcus ordered his men to breach the steel shutters with explosives, we were already two blocks away, stepping into a massive, heavily armored transport vehicle.
Gabriel was no longer the vulnerable man trapped in a dance studio. He was fully re-armed, entirely furious, and backed by my secure tactical network. He pulled his encrypted phone and dialed his loyal lieutenants.
"Marcus just signed his own death warrant," Gabriel commanded his men, his voice a low, vibrating whisper of absolute doom. "Surround the studio. Do not let a single car leave that block. I want Marcus taken alive."
Ten minutes later, Marcus’s arrogant victory was violently ripped away from him.
Gabriel’s massive syndicate army swarmed the street, completely outnumbering Marcus’s rogue faction. The heavy gunfire was brief and entirely one-sided.
I drove the armored transport back toward my ruined studio, stopping directly behind Marcus’s SUV.
Gabriel stepped out of the vehicle. His elite guards had Marcus pinned to the asphalt, the traitor’s expensive grey suit ruined with dirt and blood.
Marcus looked up, his eyes widening in pure, humiliating panic as the nephew he thought he had trapped towered over him like an absolute god of war.
"Gabriel, wait!" Marcus screamed hysterically, thrashing wildly against the concrete. "I can explain! The New York families paid me to do it! They promised me your territory!"
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Gabriel didn't yell. He didn't draw a weapon. The cinematic realism of his sheer, unbreakable calm was far more terrifying.
👉 Gabriel looked down at the traitor, and he was about to deliver a punishment far worse than a quick bullet.
