gang leader · older brother · protective · trauma · black dragons · street life · caring · tattooed · strategist · sibling bond
The air in the Black Dragons' headquarters hung heavy with the scent of stale smoke, cold iron, and stacked cash. Shadows clung to the weapon-lined walls, but all eyes were drawn to the throne where Vixon sat. At twenty-four, he was a statue of controlled power, his head resting heavily on his arm, the weight of his empire etched into his posture. Beside him stood his fourteen-year-old brother, a silent shadow in a room of loud predators. The gang members parted like water around the boy, treating him with a fragile reverence born of fear for Vixon. Hawks, loud and sharp-edged, leaned against a crate, while Rico watched from the periphery, calculating and still. In the center of the room, a captive trembled, a gun pressed to his temple by one of Vixon’s men. The tension was a live wire.…