KINGPIN’S PRIVATE TOWER – NIGHT
The upper floors of the Fisk Tower were a fortress—gleaming glass windows, cold marble floors, and a silence heavy with power. The city below was chaos. But up here, it was order. Control.
Kingpin—Wilson Fisk—stood near the window of his penthouse office, arms clasped behind his back, the veins on his bald head tense with restrained fury. His massive fra was silhouetted by the city lights behind him, a towering figure dressed in an immaculate white suit, as motionless as a statue.
The silence was broken by the echoing footsteps of a man approaching, breath uneven.
"Sir," the man said nervously, not daring to et Fisk’s gaze.
Fisk didn’t turn.
"Well?" he asked, his voice deep and calm—too calm.
The man swallowed hard and held out a digital tablet. "Thirty-two n. Hand-picked. Trained. Ard. Not one of them has reported back."
Fisk’s brow twitched ever so slightly. "Not one?"
"No, sir. We lost contact an hour ago. Drone surveillance caught flashes of movent, but the feed went dark before anything clear could be seen."
Fisk finally turned. His expression was unreadable, but the air in the room seed to drop a few degrees.
"Who did I send them for?" he asked.
"Alex, sir. The doctor."
"The doctor," Fisk repeated, as if tasting the word. "The sa man who’s been treating wounded vigilantes... harboring fugitives... and walking free in my city."
The ssenger didn’t reply.
Fisk’s eyes narrowed, his voice lowering to a growl. "And you’re telling ... thirty-two professionals... ard to the teeth... didn’t return from killing one man?"
"We believe he wasn’t alone," the man said quickly. "The reports say he has a creature with him. Sothing... inhuman. The n referred to it in earlier surveillance as a shadow or a demon. One said it looked human until it didn’t."
Fisk stared at him in silence.
Then he walked back to his desk, slowly, heavily. He placed a hand on the surface, fingers tapping lightly.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The room felt like it would explode at any mont.
Finally, Kingpin spoke, voice low and heavy with realization."This... Alex... is not just a street doctor."
"We believe so, sir," the man replied nervously. "Our latest intel shows he had so sort of skirmish with mbers of The Hand. And... two of their leaders are now missing."
Kingpin’s eyes narrowed. He turned slowly, the full weight of his glare landing on the man."Two leaders? The Hand’s leaders are powerful. Deadly. And you’re saying they’re dead... at his hands?"
The man nodded shakily, taking a step back as Kingpin’s massive form lood closer.
Bang!
Crack!
The man was slamd backward into the steel filing cabinet behind him. Papers flew. Blood dripped from his mouth as he slumped to the ground, dazed but conscious.
"Why didn’t anyone tell this earlier?" Kingpin demanded, stepping over the fallen man. His voice trembled with controlled rage. "I’ve fought The Hand. I’ve killed their warriors. And those bastards... they don’t stay dead."
He turned toward the window, breathing hard now.
"And you’re telling this doctor—this nobody—took down two of their elite... permanently?"
The silence in the room was suffocating.
Kingpin clenched his fists. The leather of his gloves creaked."Damn it," he growled. "I should’ve seen it sooner."
He slamd his hand down onto the arm of his chair with enough force to crack the wood.
"Send word. I don’t care what it costs—kill him. Use everything. Call in rcenaries, bounty hunters, hell—burn the block if you have to. No more gas."
He sank into his chair, face dark, voice like thunder.
"Because if he lives... then I don’t."
The man staggered to his feet, wiping a trail of blood from his mouth. His ribs throbbed with every breath, but he didn’t dare stay a mont longer. Nodding quickly to Kingpin, he turned and exited the office, the heavy doors shutting behind him with a final thud.
Out in the hallway, he lit a cigarette with trembling fingers, the fla flickering as his hands shook from adrenaline and pain. Smoke curled up around his bruised face as he muttered bitterly under his breath.
"Damn that bastard doctor... Why the hell did you have to co here? Couldn’t you have just stayed so back-alley healer sowhere else?"
He exhaled sharply and pulled out his phone, already composing a ssage. A new wave of killers was going to be mobilized—and this ti, Kingpin wasn’t aiming to threaten.
He was aiming to end.
ANWHILE – ALEX’S APARTNT
Alex had no idea the kill order had just been signed.
He wasn’t thinking about assassins. Or enemies. Or anything remotely close to bloodshed.
Not right now.
Because right now?
He was busy.
The low lighting of the apartnt cast a warm, golden hue over the bedroom. Sheets were tangled. Breaths heavy. Skin glistening with sweat.
Alex was in the center of it—his body pressed between two familiar ones, and another straddling his lap. Colleen’s lips traced along his collarbone. Sue’s fingers raked through his silver hair. Maria, bold as ever, whispered sothing wicked in his ear.
This wasn’t a fight of fists or flas—it was passion, pure and raw, unfolding in waves that had nothing to do with battle and everything to do with need.
A night of temptation. Heat. Connection.
Their bodies moved like a slow, burning dance—synchronized not by rhythm, but by instinct and craving.
Colleen’s breath was warm against his neck, her teeth grazing his skin just enough to make him shiver. Her hands road his chest, possessive yet gentle, fingers tracing the scars that told stories only a few were allowed to know.
Sue, ever the elegant one, moved with practiced grace, her touch electric. She kissed down the line of his jaw while her legs tangled with his beneath the sheets, her voice a low hum of desire in his ear.
Maria—wild, untad—sat atop him, eyes locked with his, hips rolling slow and deliberate. Her lips curled into a daring smile as she leaned down, pressing a kiss to his mouth that deepened into sothing ssy and desperate.
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