It was always going to be a risk, buying up real estate and setting up shop in a city owned by not one, but two gangs. But so fucking what? My entire life had been about taking risks. From the moment I'd struck a deal to eliminate my father and half of his disgusting, corrupt, immoral gang, until today.

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I'd keep taking those risks as long as I could keep backing myself with bigger balls than anyone else in the room. It was what had seen me succeed this far, and it was what would keep me alive for many years yet.

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Except the latest incident on one of my newly-acquired properties wasn't something I could hand off to my employees. No, this one had come far too fucking close to my own interests to ignore.

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So, I'd called a meeting.

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I showed up late--because fuck them, I was in charge--storming into the meeting room and letting the doors bang loudly behind me. Six sets of eyes followed my every movement as I made my way to the head of the table and sat heavily.

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Zane D'Ath and Charon D'Ath, leaders of the Shadow Grove Reapers and Wraiths respectively, were the only ones seated. Each had brought two men to act as security, and those punks were all but ignored as they stood silently against the walls.

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I didn't ignore anyone, though. That was a sure fire way to wake up with a knife in the back and I sure as fuck didn't get to my position by napping on the job. My eyes ran over the gangsters critically.

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Charon--or as he liked to be called, The Ferryman--had brought his second, Skate, and another high-ranking Wraith called Snakebite. He suited his name, too. All poison and slimy bullshit.

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Zane had opted for lower ranking members, and ones I already knew he was having issues with in his gang. Smart man. Apparently he learned a hell of a lot faster than Charon.

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"Gentlemen," I said in a voice that could freeze hell over. "Would someone like to explain to me why my newest venue--one that I haven't even begun renovations on--was all over the news last night?"

Neither one of them spoke. Maybe Charon wasn't as dense as he seemed.

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"Perhaps you could tell me what the fuck you were thinking, conducting a meeting on my premises? I think I've made my rules abundantly clear. Along with the consequences of breaking them." My voice was low and calm, but only a fool would miss the underlying threat there.

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Charon cleared his throat. "If I may?" He offered a tight smile and I just raised a brow. "It was a mere coincidence we were there at the same time."

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Zane scoffed, but didn't interrupt. He just sat back with his arms folded and waited for Charon to hang himself.

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"Both Zane and I wanted to show our support for Archer's win. The meeting was an impromptu thing, and broke none of your rules." His smile was slick, and my fingers twitched on the knife in my pocket.

I drew a breath, letting silence ramp up the tension a few notches. I hadn't come here to argue, I'd come to spark fear and keep these two piss-ants in line.

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"Someone fired a weapon inside my venue. Who was it?" My tone brokered no further conversation.

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Zane continued glaring but now his smirk was totally smug. Which told me this was a Wraith's fuck up. I leveled a hard glare at Charon.

"I'm waiting."

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The Wraith's leader clenched his jaw and his pale blue eyes flickered with anger and resentment. Yeah, nothing new there. He thought when my father was slaughtered he'd only need to scrap with Zane over territory? Well, tough shit. This power struggle had been going on for years but it was getting progressively worse now that I was expanding my operation into Shadow Grove.

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"It wasn't my men," he told me in a bare-faced lie.

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I didn't hesitate, pulling my Desert Eagle from my shoulder holster and putting a huge ass hole through Snakebite's head. Blood decorated the wall he'd been standing against and his lifeless body slid to the floor with a sickening thud.

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Neither of the men sitting at my meeting table said a word, but Charon's eyes tightened.

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"Lie to me again and the next bullet goes in you," I told him, keeping my words slow and clear in case he was suddenly hard of hearing. "You have until midnight to deliver me whatever reckless fool broke the rules of my establishments."

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Charon jerked a sharp nod, but wisely waited to see if I was done before moving.

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"You can go."

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Both gang leaders started to push their chairs back, but I wasn't done just yet.

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"Zane, stay a minute. I have another matter to discuss with you." Because, straight up, Charon was one wrong move away from me dismantling his entire shit show gang and handing it over to someone better suited to leading.

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The Reaper leader sank back into his seat and I waited in emotionless silence until the Wraiths had left the room, dragging their fallen member with them and leaving a massive streak of blood and brain matter across the carpet. Fuck's sake, that'd never come out.

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I turned my cool glare to the two shit-kicker Reapers Zane had brought with him. "Wait outside."

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They did as they were told, no questions asked. Good. I'd hate to have more blood to clean up later.

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"Zane, tell me why I'm hearing about one of your girls getting her throat slit on my property?" I leaned forward, resting my face on my chin like I was interested in his response and not simply testing him.

His face clouded with frustration. "I believe Drew was playing a dangerous game with my little brother's new toy. She lost."

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"I see," I murmured. "And this incident with Archer's girl being drugged and dumped in the trunk of a car? What do you know about that?"

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Zane's eyes flickered away from mine for a moment, betraying his unease. "Nothing," he said, and I sensed he might be lying. "But I'm looking into it."

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I held his gaze for an uncomfortably long time, then gave a short nod. "Keep me informed with what you uncover, Zane."

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His eyes narrowed briefly. "Why don't you ask Archer yourself? You two have always been so close."

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"That's right, we have," I commented, flat as ever. "You'd do well to remember that next time you try to test his limits."

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Zane blanched. "Does this mean you're allying yourself with my little brother? He's a pathetic three man operation who gets off on controlling--"

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"I'm not your fucking therapist, Zane. If you have problems with your brother, go cry to someone else. Now fuck off out of my sight before I decide the Reapers need a lesson in not pissing me off." I sat back in my seat, staring him down as his jaw clenched in anger, then his better judgment kicked in. He jerked a short nod to me, then left my meeting room quickly.

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When he was gone, I let out a heavy sigh and leaned my forehead on the smooth, polished wood of the table.

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"Fuck’s sake," I muttered.

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A click echoed through the room as my hidden panel opened and Zed, my 2iC stepped into the room with his AR-15 still in his hands. If any of the meeting attendees had tried to start shit, not a single one of them would have left the room alive.

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"You shouldn't get involved," he told me in a quiet voice. "That fucking family is nothing but trouble."

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I lifted my head from the table, throwing him a grin. "People used to say that about my family too."

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"And look where that ended up."

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He had a valid point. But still...

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"I owe Archer for Seph's life, Zed. If there's something I can do to help him..." I gave a shrug and my old friend sighed.

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"Fine," he muttered, knowing damn well I'd do what I wanted anyway. "Reach out to him, if you must. But keep it under the guise of business transactions, yes?"

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I smirked at him, standing up from my chair and holstering my gun. Everything I did was business, even when it involved friends I owed the world to. Strict rules between business and pleasure were what kept me on top. And really, it was simple enough. Everything was business and nothing was pleasure.

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Stepping over the patch of blood on the carpet, I made my way out of the meeting room with Zed on my heels. Every fucking meeting these days seemed to end in bloodstains that were increasingly hard to wash away.

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Then again, by bringing so much death to the gangs of Shadow Grove, I was simply reinforcing my name. Hades.