Chapter 6 THE SHOT THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING

Kelvin's POV

The gunshot echoed through the dock like thunder cracking the night in half.

For a moment, the world froze.

I didn't feel pain.

I didn't fall.

But I saw blood.

It sprayed across the wooden platform, soaking into the planks beneath Beatrice.

And then, Rico staggered.

Not me.

Not Beatrice.

Rico.

He dropped to one knee, clutching his side. Blood oozed between his fingers.

Sampson's smug expression twisted into confusion. "What the?"

That's when I realized: Rico had shifted at the last second.

He wasn't betraying me after all.

He had taken the bullet meant for me.

"Rico!" I shouted, rushing toward him, but before I could take more than two steps, three guards raised their rifles and pointed them straight at my chest.

"Don't move!" one barked.

Lord Sampson raised a hand, stopping them. His eyes were locked on Rico, whose breathing grew shallow, lips trembling as he leaned against a rusted container.

"You..." Sampson growled, taking slow steps toward him. "You were supposed to bring him here. Unarmed. Alone. That was the deal!"

Rico coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "I... brought him... but I never promised... I'd let you kill him."

Beatrice sobbed from the chair. Her eyes were wild, filled with panic, her mouth gagged now by a fresh strip of black cloth.

Sampson turned toward me, face twisted in disgust. "This ends tonight."

But something inside me had already snapped.

I wasn't the same boy who cried beside his mother weeks ago.

I wasn't the terrified son.

I wasn't the hunted anymore.

I was the fire.

Sampson raised his hand to signal the kill shot.

But before he could bring it down, a blast shook the dock.

Boom!

Smoke erupted near the far end of the container yard. Shouts. Footsteps.

Sampson spun around, confused. His men tightened formation.

A second explosion followed, this one closer.

It was Darius.

He had triggered the emergency response plan, a distraction protocol we had created just in case something went sideways.

And everything had gone sideways.

As the chaos erupted, I lunged forward, kicking one guard straight in the gut. His rifle fell. I grabbed it, turned, and shot the second man in the knee before he could fire back.

Beatrice was screaming through her gag.

I reached her, yanked the cloth from her mouth, and untied the ropes around her wrists.

"You came," she whispered, voice breaking.

"I always will."

She grabbed the dropped pistol from the floor and stood behind me as we searched for cover.

Sampson was gone.

Vanished in the smoke.

But Rico... he was still slumped on the ground, motionless.

We ran to him.

His eyes fluttered open as we crouched.

"Did it... work?" he whispered.

"You saved me," I said, gripping his hand.

He tried to smirk but winced instead.

"I've made... a lot of wrong choices. But this one... felt right."

Beatrice knelt beside him, tears streaming. "We need to stop the bleeding"

"It's too late," he said, voice faint. "Kelvin..."

"I'm here."

He pressed something into my hand.

A silver key.

"It's in the warehouse. The files. The safe behind the crates. Everything... everything Sampson's been hiding. You'll need it."

His grip weakened.

And then... his hand slipped from mine.

Rico was gone.

We didn't have time to cry.

Not there.

The docks were on fire now, real flames rising from one of the containers. Darius emerged from the fog with Mikel, both bloodied but alive.

They had arrived just in time to cause chaos but not without a cost.

"We need to go," Darius shouted. "Now!"

Mikel and I lifted Rico's body into the back of a black van we had hidden behind a stack of tires. Beatrice climbed in after him, wiping tears furiously from her cheeks.

As we sped off, I looked behind through the shattered window.

The docks faded behind us.

So did the last piece of Rico's loyalty.

We buried Rico in the quietest place we knew, a patch of land outside the city near the cassava fields where my father once worked.

No priest.

No ceremony.

Just us.

Us and the silence.

Beatrice placed a rose on his grave. "He saved you. He didn't have to."

"I know," I whispered. "He bought us time. I won't waste it."

We left nothing behind. No nameplate. No date. Nothing to mark it in case the enemy ever came looking.

But I would remember.

Rico would live in my war.

Two days later, I used the silver key.

We raided the warehouse near Brooklyn, just after midnight. The guards were minimal, clearly, Sampson had pulled most of them into his secret operation.

Behind three layers of crates, we found the safe.

Inside... were documents that could burn empires.

Trafficking routes. Bank transfers. Political bribes. Hit lists. A map of the city with red pins on strategic control points.

Everything.

And at the center of it all, an envelope sealed in black wax.

Inside, a photograph.

A much younger Lord Sampson.

And beside him... my father.

My heart nearly stopped.

On the back of the photo were just five words.

"You were never meant to know."

I showed it to Beatrice.

She stared at it for a long time.

"My father... lied about everything," she whispered. "They were friends?"

I nodded. "More than friends. Partners."

"But... then why"

"Something went wrong," I said. "Something tore them apart."

Beatrice shook her head. "This changes everything. My father didn't just kill your father... he betrayed him."

Her voice grew colder.

"I want to see him fall."

I looked at her, eyes hard. "Then you'll need to go back."

"What?"

"You're the only one who can walk freely inside his mansion. He trusts you. Even now, he's probably watching to see if you run or stay. You need to stay. And lie."

Beatrice's jaw clenched. "You're asking me to spy on my own blood."

"I'm asking you to help stop a war. Before more blood spills."

She didn't reply right away.

Then she nodded.

"Tell me what to do."

That night, Beatrice returned to her father's mansion.

We watched her from a distance.

And then she was gone.

Back into the lion's den.

I didn't know if she'd survive.

But I knew this...

The war had begun.