The air in the makeshift command post smelled of stale nicotine, damp concrete, and the metallic tang of high-end server racks. Tucked away in an abandoned brick warehouse three miles outside the eastern boundary of the Reed estate, I waited with anticipation with Boris. . I have waited patiently for this moment for a very long time.
I leaned back in my leather chair, swirling a glass of expensive, amber whiskey, watching the bank of glowing monitors with a cold, triumphant smile. Next to me, Boris was hunched over a tablet, his thick, scarred fingers tapping impatiently against the glass. He was a brute, a Russian bear who only understood brute force, but tonight, even he was forced to admire the sheer elegance of my design.
For years, I had lived in Asher's shadow. I had been the discarded brother, the one they looked past, while Asher took the crown of the Reed empire and ruled like an undisputed god. But tonight, the god was going to bleed!
