Chapter 3: Blood and Splinters**
Lily scrambled behind a stack of weathered timber pallets just as the corrugated iron doors groaned open. Sunlight pierced the gloom, silhouetting two burly men carrying crowbars and a heavy canvas bag. It was Vince and Sal, two of underboss Dominic’s most ruthless hitters.
"Look at the big bad wolf," Vince sneered, tossing a crowbar casually onto the concrete. The metallic clatter echoed sharply. "Still breathing, Marcus? Dominic wants to make sure your final moments are slow and instructional."
Sal chuckled, unzipping the canvas bag to reveal a set of heavy pliers. "Should’ve never skimmed from the boss's cut, Marcus. You got soft."
Marcus said nothing. He kept his eyes locked on Vince, calculating the distance, the slack in the rope, and the position of the crate hiding Lily. If they found her, they wouldn't hesitate to eliminate a witness. A savage surge of adrenaline flooded his veins—not to save his own miserable skin, but to protect the child breathing softly in the shadows.
"Dominic is a coward," Marcus stated flatly, his dark eyes burning with deadly focus. "And you two are just dogs waiting for scraps."
Enraged, Vince stepped forward and swung a vicious backhand across Marcus’s jaw. Marcus took the impact deliberately, twisting his torso with the momentum and throwing his entire weight sideways. The rustic wooden chair cracked against the concrete floor, splintering violently under his massive frame.
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The sudden fracture loosened the rope binding his left wrist. In a heartbeat, the ghost enforcer was reborn.
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