Building The Strongest Family
Chapter 150: Sharks In Velvet Waters

The Obsidian Room – Aegis District

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As you step into the private lounge known as The Obsidian Room, the air envelops you like a velvet cloak, rich with the aromas of aged wine, fragrant cigars, and a whisper of expensive cologne.

This is no ordinary venue; it's The Gilded Mirage, an elite establishment where the titans of the Aegis District's underworld converge to discuss business,and sometimes settle scores,over glasses of liquor that cost more than most people earn in a year.

Tonight, the room buzzes with the true power players of the district. Not your run-of-the-mill street thugs or mid-tier enforcers,but the Big Dogs.

These are individuals who don't just play the game; they own it.

At the head of this gathering sits Damien Crowe, known far and wide as the "Iron Baron."

A formidable figure in his mid-50s with broad shoulders and slicked-back silver hair, he bears a jagged scar that snakes from his left eyebrow to his cheek,a grim reminder of a failed assassination attempt.

His empire thrives on weapons smuggling and private militias, bolstered by the old-money Crowe Family's political connections in the Senate.

To Damien's left is Selene Gold, aptly nicknamed The "Silk Queen."

In her late 40s and always impeccably dressed in a tailored white pantsuit, she exudes elegance with her porcelain skin and raven-black hair styled in an elegant chignon.

Her operations revolve around prostitution, blackmail, and high-end human trafficking,all backed by her shadowy Loke Consortium.

On Damien's right sits Roland Lawrence, infamously dubbed The "Phantom Banker."

In his early 60s with round spectacles perched on his nose and a perpetual smirk playing on his lips, he navigates money laundering and corporate espionage while representing Mercer Group,a so-called legitimate finance empire known for making dirty money vanish without a trace.

Across from Damien is Kain Vex, the enigmatic figure referred to as The "Cleaner."

Proficient in assassinations and body disposal, Kain keeps his background shrouded in mystery. Rumor has it he has connections within medical examiner's offices.

Lean and cold-eyed at nearly 40 years old, he wears black gloves at all times,a signature look that adds to his chilling presence.

Finally, beside Selene is Lucian Moon, the ever-smooth The "Fixer." With expertise in information brokering and political manipulation through his Drake Media Empire (because controlling news means controlling narratives), Lucian sports a salt-and-pepper beard paired with turtlenecks that scream sophistication.

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The atmosphere crackles with low conversation, laughter echoing off plush walls amid clinking glasses,at first glance resembling a reunion among old friends.

Selene exhaled a thin stream of smoke, her dark eyes sweeping across the room. "Ah, these little reunions are a rare delight," she mused. "It's not often we get to enjoy each other's company without someone plotting a backstab."

Damien chuckled, swirling his whiskey like a seasoned connoisseur. "Oh, I'm betting at least two people in this room have already thought about it tonight."

Kain didn't crack a smile but replied coolly, "Three."

A beat of silence hung in the air before Roland burst into laughter, slapping his knee. "God, I missed you psychopaths!"

Lucian smirked as he sipped his martini. "Speaking of stabbing,has anyone else caught wind of that upstart in the Red Sector? What's his name… Malik?"

Damien scoffed dismissively. "That gutter rat? Please. He's just a street thug who stumbled upon some luck."

Selene arched an impeccably sculpted brow. "Five gangs in five nights isn't luck, Damien."

Roland waved a hand nonchalantly. "Gangs? Come on! Those Silver Strings idiots were barely above common thieves, and the Serpents? They were already on their last legs."

Kain swirled his absinthe thoughtfully. "He's wielding military-grade hardware,Exo-suits and neural disruptors. That's not your average street-level firepower."

Lucian leaned forward, intrigued by the conversation's shift. "So who's backing him?"

Damien shrugged with indifference. "Does it really matter? If he dares step into our territories, we'll squash him like a bug."

Selene smirked playfully. "Spoken like someone who's never had to deal with a rabid dog before."

Roland chuckled again, shaking his head. "Oh, I don't know; it's kind of cute,like watching a little fish try to swim with sharks."

Kain set down his glass with a soft click that echoed through the tense atmosphere. "That 'little fish' just turned the Red Sector into a graveyard."

A pause settled over them as the mood shifted ever so slightly.

Then Lucian grinned mischievously. "Well then! Maybe we should invite him to our next dinner party."

Laughter erupted once more,but this time it was sharper and edged with something darker.

Lucian then glanced at everyone in the room and chuckled softly.

His cane tapped a soft rhythm against the Versian rug. "The question isn't the weapons. It's who gave them to him."

Another pause. Longer this time.

Damien set his glass down with deliberate force. "If some upstart thinks he can play in our league, we remind him what happens to strays."

His scar twisted into something resembling a smile. "Violently."

Selene examined her nails. "Already tried that, darling. My people haven't reported back."

The fire crackled in the hearth. Somewhere in the building, a clock chimed midnight.

Kain rose smoothly, adjusting his cuffs. "If you'll excuse me. I have a surgery scheduled."

As the door closed behind him, the remaining occupants exchanged glances that spoke volumes in the language of the truly dangerous.

Roland broke the silence first. "Shall we place bets on how long until this Malik problem resolves itself?"

Lucian smiled, swirling his drink. "I give him forty-eight hours."

Damien's laughter boomed through the room. "I'll take that action. Twenty says the body's never found."

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That same night!

Kain's limousine glided through the rain-slicked streets, the partition firmly up. He tapped a secure frequency into his comm.

"Clean-up crew to my location. Full containment protocol." A beat. "And send the twins to handle this Malik situation."

The voice on the other end hesitated. "Sir, the last team we sent...."

"Are you questioning me?" Kain's voice dropped to a whisper colder than the grave.

"N-no, sir."

"Good. The twins don't fail."

As the car turned a corner, Kain allowed himself a rare moment of unease. Whoever was backing Malik had resources.

Real resources. And in their world, that meant either a rival syndicate... or something far more dangerous.