Steam curled from repaired carts like victory smoke, but Alex felt the noose of rumor tightening. The gym's ring, once a relic, now hosted impromptu workouts—Scarface shadowboxing, his pals lifting crates, Rico spotting with grease-smeared enthusiasm. "Builds loyalty, Boss," Rico said, grinning. "Next, we ink tattoos."Alex tuned out, elbow-deep in the journal. Uncle Vinny's scrawl: Blood calls to shadow. Never trust the elders. Cryptic nonsense—or bad poetry? A thud yanked him back. Jax the taco guy slumped against the door, lip split, clutching a crumpled menu. "They jumped me, Kane. Vipers crew. Said Harbor's theirs now."Scarface growled. "Vipers? Those Undercity rats? Led by Razor—Tongues says he carves smiles on snitches."Mrs. Patel peeked in, rolling pin ready. "My nephew saw 'em marking turf. Snakes on walls. You fix this, Shadow Don?"Alex rubbed his temples. Shadow what? But eyes bored into him—hopeful, hungry. "Show me."The alley behind Jax's truck reeked of wet asphalt and fear. Graffiti hissed: Vipers own this. Kane bleeds. Fresh. Alex traced the paint—still tacky. "Amateurs. Tracks from their ride lead that way." He followed bootprints to a storm drain, prying it with a crowbar. Inside: a dropped switchblade, engraved Razor.Rico whistled. "Baiting you. Smart.""Not smart—sloppy." Alex pocketed the blade, mind racing. Confrontation meant escalation; ignoring it invited more. He rigged a quick trap: tripwire to a steam vent from the bakery exhaust. "Passive defense. They come back, they cook."Night deepened. Whispers buzzed Harbor chats: Kane's hunting Vipers. Lena Voss tailed from shadows, recorder live. From fixer to enforcer overnight?Rustle in the alley. Three Vipers slunk in—leather vests, snake tats, Razor's sneer lit by phone glow. "Kane's turf? We claim—" Tripwire snapped. Steam erupted, scalding yelps echoing. They bolted, singed and swearing.By morning, Vipers' hideout graffiti read: Kane's ghosts burn. Rico laughed. "Poetic. You're a natural, Don."Alex pocketed the journal tighter. Ghosts? Maybe. But as Lena's scooter hummed away, notepad filling with Syndicate escalates, he wondered if normalcy was already ash.End of Chapter 3
