The room reeked of smoke and stale whiskey. Cards scattered across the dented poker table, and laughter echoed between the rusted metal walls of the COUPS hideout. The boys were in rare spirits tonight.
Wyatt leaned back on the creaky couch, nursing a half-empty bottle of bourbon. Rat sat cross-legged on the table, picking tobacco flakes from his teeth while Axel shuffled a new round of cards.
Smoke lit a blunt with his signature flair, taking a long drag before glancing sideways at Lucien who sat a little removed, sprawled on a worn armchair, legs apart, expression unreadable.
"Yo," Smoke said lazily, "I've been thinking… that Montclair guy. Was it really just 'cause he tried to snitch?"
The table quieted. Even the smoke seemed to hang heavier in the air.
Lucien didn't answer right away. He tilted his head, eyeing the glowing ember at the tip of his cigar like it held the truth.
Axel frowned. "I mean...don't get me wrong. Dude had it coming. But we've had louder mouths off the streets. If we smoked everyone who said too much, half the city'd be ashes."
Rat raised a brow. "You saying we overreacted?"
"No, man," Smoke cut in. "Just saying it felt… personal. Like something more."
Lucien exhaled slowly, smoke trailing from his mouth like a coiled secret.
"He didn't just snitch," he said finally. His voice was low, deliberate. "The Montclair bastard stole something."
The gang went still.
"From who?" Wyatt asked, brows furrowed.
Lucien's gaze darkened. "From the boss."
Now that got their attention.
"What the hell did he take?" Rat asked, sitting up straighter.
Lucien leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His voice dipped into a near-growl.
"He intercepted a deal that wasn't his. A shipment of data flash drives meant for the boss. Information on high-ranking officials, dirty transactions, and the identities of our allies in law enforcement. Montclair got greedy, thought he could sell it to another crew for double."
Smoke whistled. "Shit…"
"But that's not the worst part," Lucien continued. "He kept a copy. And he wasn't just gonna sell it...he was going to leak it anonymously. Full exposure. You think we've got half the police force on our leash now?" He looked each of them dead in the eye. "We'd have none if that man got his way."
Axel's mouth hung slightly open. "So the boss ordered his whole bloodline dead."
Lucien leaned back, eyes cold. "He wanted an example made."
Silence followed. Then Wyatt murmured, "That's why you hesitated, isn't it?"
Lucien's jaw tensed.
Smoke watched him carefully. "You left someone alive."
Lucien didn't blink. "Watch your tone."
"I'm just saying," Smoke said, raising his hands. "We're loyal to COUPS. But if there's any unfinished business..."
Lucien stood. "I said, watch your tone."
The room went dead quiet.
He tossed his half-smoked cigar in the ashtray and turned for the door.
"Boss knows it's unfinished," Rat muttered under his breath, just barely loud enough for Lucien to hear.
Lucien paused at the threshold, hand on the door. He didn't turn around when he said:
"Let him think what he wants. Some ghosts need to stay breathing… until they're ready to haunt."
The door shut behind Lucien with a low, metallic clunk, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.
For a moment, none of them spoke. Smoke tapped ash into the tray. Wyatt refilled his glass. Rat stretched his legs and muttered something about needing air.
Axel remained silent, watching the door with something unreadable in his eyes.
"You okay?" Smoke asked, squinting at him.
Axel blinked. "Yeah."
He stood up slowly, reaching for his jacket. "Need a smoke. Be right back."
He walked out casually, heading down the corridor and around the back of the hideout, where shadows clung to the crumbling brick. He pulled out his phone, checked behind him, then dialed a private number burned into his memory.
One ring. Two.
"Axel," came the voice on the other end. Deep. Gruff. Boss.
"I confirmed it with my own eyes," Axel whispered. "Lucien left her alive, again. The girl. I followed him yesterday boss, he walked right into her house. After he left, the light of a room came on revealing she was left alive"
Silence.
"You were right Boss. He's going soft. He's not denying it anymore, and he's acting strange. Slipping up. He had the chance to end her yesterday but didn't." Axel admitted.
The boss exhaled like he'd been expecting this.
"Good work," he said. "Keep him close. Don't spook him yet."
Axel hesitated. "You want me to handle it?"
"No," the boss replied coldly. "Lucien needs to learn the consequences of disobedience. And she..."
There was a pause.
"She'll die when I say so. Not a moment sooner." Dominic concluded.
The line went dead.
Axel pocketed his phone slowly, then looked up at the stars,dull and half-hidden behind smog.
He'd known Lucien too long, fought beside him, bled beside him. But this was bigger than loyalty. This was COUPS. And no one no one got away with betrayal.
Not even Lucien.
Axel had always played the loyal dog, sharp teeth, sharper instincts, and an almost obsessive devotion to the COUPS. But beneath the surface of his unwavering allegiance, there festered a quiet storm. A slow-burning hatred he kept on a leash, masked with grins and brotherhood.
It all started the night of the Montclair massacre, two years ago. Orders had been clear. Wipe them all out. No traces. No names left to whisper in the wind. Everyone had followed through, or so they thought.
And then he found out by chance, or maybe by fate that Lucien, the boss's golden boy, had left someone alive. Eleanor Montclair. A name that should've been buried long ago. And yet she breathed. She lived. Because Lucien let her.
Axel saw red. To him, this wasn't just a mistake. It was blasphemy. An insult to everything the COUPS stood for. He thought: If I had done that, I'd be rotting in the ground by now. But Lucien? Lucien could get away with it. Because he was Dominic Ashford's son.
That was the thing.
Lucien didn't need to claw for power, he was born into it. Axel, on the other hand, had bled, broken bones, and burned bridges to even be seen in the room.
Every time the boss spared Lucien's recklessness, every time he got away with doing the opposite of orders, Axel's envy carved itself deeper into his chest.
He hated it. He hated him.
But he hid it well. Covered it in jokes, in punches to the shoulder, in shared smokes.
Still… he vowed that this time would be different.This time, Lucien wouldn't walk away unpunished.
Axel believed in justice not the kind the world peddled, but the brutal kind the COUPS upheld. If Lucien was allowed to break rules and leave a Montclair alive, then the very structure of their brotherhood was crumbling.
So, he snitched.
He whispered to the boss. Not for loyalty, but for vengeance. If Lucien fell, Axel could rise. Maybe even be favored. Maybe even feared.
He wasn't just overzealous. He was calculated, resentful, and dangerously ambitious. And beneath all his grins, he was waiting for Lucien to slip...
Just once more.