The room was silent — only the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the air, but even that felt heavy under the weight of what was about to be born.
The map of Daniel's empire lay across the table — a tangled network of smuggling routes, political pawns, bloodied money trails, and hidden names.
This was the map of the underworld itself. And tonight, it belonged to four men.
At the head of the table stood Faisal, his fingers pressed into the map, his eyes scanning every line like a general memorizing a battlefield.
On either side sat Rayyan, Malik, and Ameer — the four brothers, no longer boys.
Faisal's voice was steady, but there was something underneath it — something burning.
"We don't attack Daniel first," Faisal said, his voice like a slow knife cutting through the silence.
"We cut off his hands. One finger at a time."
The brothers didn't need long speeches — they needed precision, strategy, and ruthlessness.
Malik's Role - The Street Hand:
Malik knew the shadows better than anyone. His network ran from the docks to the luxury clubs where dealers, enforcers, and fixers whispered Daniel's name but never dared to say it loud.
His job: Dig into the dirt, pull out every worm, and make them beg for a way out — or bury them in silence.
Ameer's Role - The Ghost Eye:
Ameer didn't fight in the streets. He fought in the airwaves, in whispers, in coded messages exchanged between corrupted cops and greedy politicians.
His job: Trace Daniel's money flow. Every dirty dollar, every weapon shipment, every fake company — find the strings that Daniel pulled and expose them one by one.
Rayyan's Role - The Tactical Mind:
Rayyan believed war wasn't about bullets — it was about fear, confusion, and making your enemy doubt his own people.
His job: Turn Daniel's empire against itself — plant rumors, make Daniel's own men suspect each other, and poison the loyalty that kept Daniel safe.
Faisal's Role - The Clean Face:
Where his brothers worked in shadows, Faisal would stand in the light.
He would become the face of power — opening legitimate companies, winning government contracts, shaking hands with ministers and presidents.
The world would see a rising young businessman.
But behind the suit, he would carve Daniel's empire into bleeding pieces.
"No one can fight a ghost," Faisal said.
"And that's exactly what we'll become."
The First Target - Viktor Kolchev
The name hung in the air like a curse.
Viktor Kolchev — Daniel's weapons broker, running arms deals from Eastern Europe to the Middle East. Untouchable for years under Daniel's protection. A monster in his own right.
But tonight, Viktor would be the first message.
Ameer's Ghost Network found Viktor's hidden supply routes — airstrips, ports, and unregistered warehouses.
Malik's street hands spread a rumor — Viktor was selling information to Daniel's rivals.
Rayyan designed the perfect trap — Viktor would think he was walking into a routine shipment deal. Instead, he would walk into his own execution.
The abandoned airstrip was silent — the perfect hunting ground.
Faisal stood in the dark, his hands in his pockets, waiting for the prey.
Malik crouched behind a stack of crates, his blade glinting under the weak moonlight.
Ameer was perched in a control tower, feeding live intel into Rayyan's earpiece.
Rayyan stood on the roof, sniper rifle resting easy in his hands — not to kill, but to control.
Viktor's convoy arrived — armored SUVs, headlights cutting through the dark like searching eyes. He stepped out, his thick hands clutching a cigar, his bodyguards fanning out in a loose circle.
Viktor was cautious — but he was only prepared for enemies he could see.
The moment Viktor's phone rang, Rayyan's bullet shattered it in his hand. The bodyguards flinched, but Malik was already moving.
His blade slid into the first guard's throat before the man could even scream. Blood sprayed across the tarmac.
The guards panicked — firing into the shadows, wasting bullets on ghosts.
Ameer cut the lights, plunging the entire airstrip into darkness.
Fear filled the air — and in that fear, the brothers moved like predators in their own jungle.
Malik broke spines and shattered knees.
Ameer sliced throats and punctured lungs before they could even shout.
Rayyan's knife found its way into the spines of men who had no time to beg.
Viktor, trembling, ran for the SUV — but Faisal was there, standing in front of the car, unmasked.
"You don't know me," Faisal said softly, "but your king does."
Viktor froze — and in that hesitation, Rayyan's blade pinned his coat to the car door, trapping him.
They didn't kill Viktor fast.
They broke each of his fingers one by one, carving Daniel's secrets out of his trembling mouth.
Names.
Deals.
Safehouses.
Codes.
Every whisper was paid for in flesh and bone.
Viktor begged for death — but Faisal's voice was cold.
"You don't deserve death."
He leaned close.
"You deserve to feel the same fear my family felt before they died."
The last thing Viktor saw was Faisal's cold smile before Malik's blade cut his throat wide open.
They hung his body from the airstrip tower — a message no one could ignore.
One Finger Removed — Four Left.
Back at the safehouse, the four brothers stood around the table.
"No one leaves," Faisal said, his voice calm but absolute.
"We started as four. We end as four — or not at all."
Malik and Ameer slammed their fists down.
"Agreed."
Rayyan hesitated, just for a heartbeat. He had seen something — the coldness in Faisal's eyes, the thrill in his smile.
The man who once cried for his father was learning to enjoy control.
"Agreed," Rayyan said — but the seed of doubt was already planted.
In a penthouse far away, Daniel stood at his window, looking out at the city.
A photo lay on his desk — Viktor's body hanging from the tower, the message carved into his chest.
Daniel smiled faintly.
"The mice think they're lions."
He turned to his advisor.
"Let them come. I'll see if they survive long enough to sit at my table… or if they end up being the meal."
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End of Chapter 32