Victoria Island
Red Bandits Headquarters
Kola leaned back in his chair, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the table.
"I hate this," he said. "If Adam was still running things, nobody would dare breathe wrong around us. Now look at us. Government pets."
Across from him sat Musa, older, heavier, scars lining his arms like old handwriting. He was once called Iron Jaw, Adam's frontline enforcer, the man who never backed down in a street clash. Now his eyes carried more bitterness than fire.
"He wasn't just feared," Musa said quietly. "He was respected. That man kept everything tight. No drugs on kids. No random killings. No loose mouths. The whole city knew his name, and the government hated him for it."
He gave a short laugh. "They didn't kill him because he was weak. They killed him because he was winning."
