Me: Find someone who can cover 100 walls this ugly. Fast.
Fred: 100 rooms?
Me: Did I stutter?
Fred: Is this a trick question…
Me: Do it or I’ll let Wells redecorate your life ??
Fred: Damn. Brb.
I kept snapping pictures. Every hallway we passed screamed potential. Bloodstains on tile. Bolted doors. An old padded cell. The ghosts here didn’t scare me, they whispered.
I sent the guys our location.
Briggs arched a brow. “Is it just you two today?”
“No,” I said, right as I heard engines growl like a pack of wolves rolling in. “That’s them.”
Karter, Wells, Onyx, and Dash stormed in a second later. No hello. No questions. Just that look in their eyes like they already knew this place would bleed for us.
“We’re turning this asylum into a fortress,” I announced, arms spread. “This is where we outlive every enemy, every betrayal, every fucking war that’s coming.”
Dash grinned. “And the mill?”
“Still the playground,” I said. “But this? This is the heart.”
Wells ran his hand over the moldy banister. “It’s got a pulse.”
“Let’s wake it up.”
Because when the world came hunting for us, and it would, this place wouldn’t be a hiding spot.
It would be the battleground where The Devils of Cliffside made our last stand.
And I promise you… We never fucking lose.
Hours later, my signature bleeds across the final line of ink-stained contracts. The deal is sealed. The asylum is ours.
The birth of a kingdom. The bones of a war machine.
Briggs clasps my hand with a smirk too practiced to be genuine. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Wyck. You won’t regret this property, she’s got character.”
“Rotting walls and screaming ghosts?” I say, matching his grin. “Just my type.”
“If anything’s out of order, you’ve got my number.”
“I’ll be in touch.” And if he gave me a shit deal? He’ll answer to more than just my number.
He disappears down the drive, tires crunching over the gravel like a countdown. I watch him go, keys cold in my palm, heavy with promise.
Behind me, the Devils wait.
I turn. “You boys ready for the next phase of our empire?”
“Hell fucking yes,” they answer in perfect unison.
Good.