Building The Strongest Family
Chapter 147: The Offer

Arthur set down his drink, laughter bubbling in his chest. "That's perfect! So when Raven dug into Christopher's files..."

"She uncovered genuine evidence of his plot against Veyne, cleverly hidden beneath our fabricated ties to the Consortium's failure. The coincidence was simply too glaring to ignore."

Arthur stood up, pacing toward the window. The sprawling city before him resembled a chessboard, each piece moving exactly as he had orchestrated.

"Let me make sure I've got this straight: One, Christopher actually wanted Veyne dead for his own reasons. Two, the Consortium really tried to eliminate Veyne around the same time. And finally,

we just connected the dots for Raven?"

Evolon's blue visage pulsed with satisfaction. "Precisely! The most elegant deceptions are built upon truths. Now both the Campbells and Consortium believe Christopher interfered in their operations because, in a way, he did."

Arthur exhaled slowly, watching his breath fog up the glass. "And nobody will ever look twice at the Osborn family."

"Unlikely," Evolon replied smoothly. "You remain beneath their notice... for now."

Arthur turned back to the holograms flickering in front of him. "What's the fallout?"

"Projections suggest: Campbell-Consortium War: Escalating strikes between the two (Duration: 6-18 months). Neo-Luminara: Both factions will temporarily withdraw assets to focus on core conflict. Raven remains loyal to Consortium but now harbors doubts about their intelligence apparatus."

Arthur's fingers tapped rhythmically against the window as he processed this information. "Keep monitoring Raven; that seed of doubt could be useful later."

"Already tracking her movements," Evolon confirmed. "Though I must caution you,the Campbells may eventually trace that fabricated evidence back to its source."

A grin spread across Arthur's face. "By then, we'll be ready."

"Oh! By the way, how is Jax doing with that assignment I gave him?"

"Sir, he has already started executing it!" Evolon replied enthusiastically.

"Good!" Arthur nodded with a satisfied smile.

Outside, the city lights twinkled like stars,each one a piece on his board, waiting patiently for its next move.

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Aegis District-Downtown

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The neon sign of The Rusty Nail buzzed erratically, casting a flickering crimson glow over the cracked asphalt of the parking lot.

This bar was a relic from another time,its peeling paint and barred windows whispered tales of forgotten nights, while the perpetual stench of spilled liquor and cigarette smoke clung stubbornly to its walls.

Suddenly, a sleek black Veyron M7 glided to a stop outside, its matte finish absorbing the dim light like a shadow come to life.

The engine cut off with a quiet purr as the door swung open effortlessly.

And then he stepped out.

Jax Krayne.

Tall and broad-shouldered, his face looked like it had been sculpted from granite, sharp angles, cold eyes, and a scar that traced an unsettling path from his temple to the corner of his mouth.

Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit with no tie and the top button undone, he walked toward the entrance with deliberate confidence; each click of his shoes against the pavement echoed through the night air.

Inside, The Rusty Nail was half-empty. A few hardened regulars nursed their drinks, their eyes darting toward Jax before quickly averting them,like moths drawn to flame yet wary of getting burned.

The bartender,a grizzled man adorned with a spiderweb tattoo crawling up his neck,paused mid-wipe of a glass, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

But Jax didn't sit at the bar.

He strode straight to the back, past worn pool tables and a dartboard boasting three knives still embedded in it.

He stopped before a guarded door where two enforcers,thick-necked brutes who looked like they could bench press cars,blocked his path.

"Private," one grunted.

Without flinching, Jax replied coldly, "Tell Malik that Jax Krayne is here to discuss his future."

A beat of silence hung in the air before one enforcer muttered into his earpiece. With an audible click, the door swung open.

Inside was starkly different from the dive bar outside: plush leather couches lined one wall; polished oak furniture gleamed under soft lighting; expensive whiskey sat in crystal decanters on display.

Behind an imposing desk sat Malik Voss,the self-proclaimed "King of the Underground."

Or at least he used to be.

Now Malik appeared as if he hadn't slept in weeks; his once-pristine suit was wrinkled and disheveled while dark circles under his eyes told stories of sleepless nights spent poring over maps of territories slipping through his fingers.

He didn't stand when Jax entered.

"Krayne," Malik rasped, voice roughened by fatigue. "I didn't realize Crimson Blood would send its attack dogs to slum it in my bar."

Jax flashed a sly smile, just a hint of mischief dancing at the corners of his lips. "I'm not here for the Crimson Blood," he declared, his tone cool and confident. "They're dead to me."

Malik drummed his fingers against the desk, curiosity piqued. "Then why exactly are you here?"

With a deliberate motion, Jax reached into his jacket.

The enforcers tensed, hands inching toward their weapons,but all he produced was a sleek silver case.

He snapped it open, revealing a solitary data chip that glimmered under the dim light.

"Your organization is bleeding out, Malik," he said matter-of-factly. "The Silver Strings have taken your docks. The Red Circle has gutted your protection rackets. And the Black Hand? They're circling your last few blocks like vultures eyeing their next meal."

Malik's jaw tightened in annoyance. "I don't need a recap of my problems."

"No," Victor chimed in smoothly. "What you need is a solution."

He placed the chip on the desk with purpose. "My boss is offering one."

Malik didn't even glance at it. "Who's your boss?"

Jax tilted his head slightly, an enigmatic glint in his eyes. "Someone who doesn't tolerate loose ends, someone who can turn your little predicament into an opportunity."

Malik's gaze darted between the chip and Victor's unwavering expression. "What's the catch?"

"Loyalty," Victor replied softly but firmly, as if each syllable carried weighty significance. "You keep your title, your men, even your pride,but from now on, you answer to him."

Malik let out a harsh laugh that echoed through the room like thunderclaps in an empty sky. "So what? I trade one leash for another?"

Jax's smile turned razor-sharp; it didn't quite reach his eyes this time. "No, Malik, you trade a noose for a shield."

Silence hung thick in the air as tension crackled like static electricity.

Finally, Malik reached for the chip.

As he activated it, a hologram flickered to life above the desk showcasing three crucial elements:

A list of names,every rival gang leader gnawing away at Malik's territory.

Detailed schematics, security layouts and patrol routes highlighting weak points.

And at the bottom? A single word: "Choose."

Malik's breath caught in his throat as realization dawned on him: This is...

"A gift," Jax interjected smoothly before leaning forward slightly to emphasize his point. "A show of good faith."

He added with conviction, "My employer doesn't demand blind loyalty; he earns it."

Malik hesitated over the hologram's enticing display and asked cautiously, "And if I say no?"

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