BONDED BY HATE

The tension in the underworld was suffocating. Every criminal syndicate, every underground broker, every hired gun knew something big was about to happen. The Martin brothers were at war, and the city was holding its breath.

Dylan sat in the back of his black SUV, his expression unreadable as Jayden drove through the dimly lit streets. His men had already spread out, tracking Richard's movements, gathering intel.

"We found him, boss," Jayden finally said, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Richard's at the old shipping docks. Looks like he's making a deal."

Dylan smirked. "Then let's crash his little meeting."

---

At the Shipping Docks

Richard stood in the middle of an abandoned warehouse, surrounded by crates of illegal weapons. Across from him was a man in his late fifties, a powerful arms dealer named Ivan Petrov.

"Your offer is interesting, Mr. Martin," Petrov said in a thick Russian accent. "But I don't work with men who don't have full control of their territory."

Richard clenched his jaw. "Dylan won't be a problem for long."

Petrov chuckled. "That's what they all say, boy. Yet your brother is still king."

Before Richard could respond, the air was suddenly filled with the roar of engines. Black SUVs screeched to a halt outside, and men in suits and bulletproof vests spilled out, weapons drawn.

"What the hell?" Richard hissed.

A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the warehouse.

"Oh, little brother… You didn't actually think I'd let you do business on my turf, did you?"

Dylan stepped out of the shadows, flanked by Jayden and several armed men. His smirk was sharp, dangerous.

Richard's men immediately raised their guns, but Dylan's men outnumbered them. Petrov, amused by the sudden turn of events, simply watched.

"So dramatic, Dylan," Richard sneered, though his grip on his gun tightened. "I see you still love making grand entrances."

Dylan tilted his head. "And I see you still make stupid decisions. Do you really think you can steal from me and walk away unscathed?"

Petrov took a slow sip from his flask, enjoying the show. "This is entertaining. Two brothers fighting like rabid dogs. Perhaps I should sell tickets."

Dylan's eyes never left Richard. "I'm going to give you one chance to walk away, Richard. Leave my territory and never come back."

Richard laughed coldly. "Or what? You'll kill me?"

Dylan's smirk vanished. His tone turned icy. "If you force my hand, I will."

For a moment, silence stretched between them. The tension was thick, the kind that only ended in bloodshed.

Richard weighed his options. His men were outgunned. If he fought now, he'd lose. But surrendering wasn't an option either.

He took a step back, smirking. "This isn't over, big brother."

Dylan didn't blink. "It never is."

Richard signaled his men to lower their weapons. "Enjoy your temporary victory. Because next time, I won't be so polite."

He turned and walked away, his men following.

Dylan watched him go, his expression unreadable.

Jayden stepped closer. "You let him walk?"

Dylan exhaled. "For now. But make no mistake, Jayden… This is only the beginning."

As Richard disappeared into the night, Dylan clenched his fists.

The next time they met, one of them wouldn't be walking away.