Villain Origin : Every Crime I Commit Helps Me Level Up-Chapter 21: Unspoken Deals

Andre maintained his composure as he watched the room's energy shift. The alliance was sealed, but tension still hung in the air like smoke. Zaria dismissed her crew with a subtle nod, leaving just her, Andre, and Hawk in the dimly lit room.

"So," she said, leaning back against the edge of the table, "enlighten me. Why exactly are you building this little empire of yours?" Her fingers resumed their casual dance with the knife. "I would've thought a man like you had better things to do than play gang leader."

Andre raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd already know. Isn't that your specialty? Information?"

A smirk played across her lips. "Ah, right. Must have slipped my mind." The sarcasm in her voice was thick enough to cut. "Humor me."

Andre studied her for a moment, weighing his words carefully. Trust was a luxury in this world, but sometimes transparency was the best strategy.

"Solar Shade," he said finally.

The name hung in the air, heavy and ominous. Even Hawk shifted his weight uncomfortably.

Zaria's smirk faltered, genuine surprise flashing in her eyes. "You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Solar Shade," she repeated, incredulous. "One of the top five gangs in the city? That Solar Shade?"

"The same."

She let out a low whistle. "That's... ambitious. Even for someone calling themselves 'Atlas.'"

"Can't take down a giant alone," Andre said, his voice even. "Hence the recruitment drive."

Hawk coughed into his fist. "I thought he was crazy too." He exchanged a look with Zaria. "Still do, honestly. But the man's determined, I'll give him that."

Zaria pushed herself off the table, circling Andre slowly. "It's even more shocking coming from you." Her eyes narrowed. "You really want to go against one of the big five? Most people with your... talents... would be trying to join them, not fight them."

Andre's expression darkened. "I have my reasons."

"I bet you do," she murmured, stopping directly in front of him. "Well, this should be entertaining, if nothing else." She extended her hand again. "To new beginnings, boss."

Andre took it, his grip firm. "To new beginnings."

---

The car hummed softly as they cruised through the night-shrouded streets. Andre kept his eyes on the road, while Hawk gazed out the passenger window, watching the neon lights blur past.

"So," Andre broke the silence. "Why'd you do it?"

Hawk turned. "Do what?"

"Become a gang leader. The Red Hawks. Why start it?"

Hawk was quiet for a long moment, the question hanging between them. Finally, he sighed.

"Wasn't always the plan," he said, his voice lower than usual. "Used to be military. Special forces. Was good at it too—damn good. Enlisted right after you would've been starting high school. But then..." He trailed off.

Andre waited, giving him space.

"Operation went south. Bad intel. My squad got hit hard." Hawk's jaw tightened. "I was the only one who made it back. They hung me out to dry, said it was my call that got everyone killed."

He flexed his scarred knuckles, a nervous habit.

"Dishonorably discharged. No benefits, no support, nothing. Just dumped back into civilian life with skills that don't exactly translate to a resume." A bitter laugh escaped him. "Started doing security work. Bouncing at clubs, escort duty for rich assholes who think they need protection."

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Andre nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes.

"Then I met Cole. Smart kid, tech genius. Had a sister who got hooked on Nova—that designer drug Solar Shade was pushing a few years back." His expression hardened. "She OD'd. Cole wanted payback, had this whole plan. Needed muscle though."

"So you stepped up," Andre supplied.

"Yeah. Recruited a few guys I knew from the service who were in similar boats. Called ourselves the Red Hawks, after our old unit insignia." Hawk's voice grew distant. "Cole didn't make it. Hit gone wrong. But by then, we'd made enough noise, gained enough territory that there was no going back."

The car stopped at a red light, bathing them both in crimson glow.

"That's why I fight the way I do," Hawk continued. "Military training, plus a few dirty tricks picked up along the way. Not much use for rules on these streets."

The light turned green, and Andre accelerated smoothly.

Hawk leaned back in his seat, exhaling slowly. "Not gonna lie, I never saw myself making it this far. Figured I'd be dead by now."

A pause. Then, quieter: "Sometimes, I still do."

Andre kept his gaze on the road, but his next words were deliberate. "So why are you still here?"

Hawk blinked, the question catching him off guard. He didn't answer right away.

"Why tell me all this?" he asked instead. "Why trust me? How do you know I won't bail when things get tough with Solar Shade? Or worse, sell you out?"

Andre drove in silence for a few blocks before answering.

"That fight we had," he said finally. "You gave everything you had. I respect that. And when you lost, you kept your word despite how much it must have stung." He glanced briefly at Hawk. "That's a man of honor, if I can say so myself. Besides," he added with a slight smile, "seems like we have some things in common now."

Something shifted in Hawk's expression—respect, perhaps. Maybe even something like loyalty.

"What about Zaria?" Hawk asked, his tone cautious. "You trust her too?"

Andre's expression closed off, his focus returning to the road ahead. He remained silent, hands steady on the wheel as they continued through the shadows of the city.

---

The dim glow of city lights painted the lavish penthouse bedroom in shades of gold and silver. Marcus Vale lay stretched across the massive bed, his shirt unbuttoned, a satisfied smirk lingering on his lips. His lean, sculpted frame was defined but not overly muscular—built for speed and precision rather than brute strength. A black sun tattoo wrapped around his wrist, its intricate rays extending toward his fingers like creeping shadows.

Three women lounged beside him, their bodies barely covered by delicate lace panties, their forms draped lazily over the silk sheets. The scent of expensive perfume and lingering heat filled the air.

The door creaked open, and Marcus barely shifted his gaze as Zaria stepped inside. Without a word, he flicked his wrist, a silent signal. The women, well-trained in his moods, gathered their scattered clothes and slipped away without complaint, brushing past Zaria as they exited.

She watched them go, then raised an eyebrow. "Another set already? You're consistent, I'll give you that."

Marcus chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair before standing. The low light caught the ink on his wrist as he flexed his fingers. "What can I say? A man in my position needs ways to unwind." He smirked as he buttoned his shirt, his tone laced with amusement.

Zaria rolled her eyes, though the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at her lips. She crossed her arms as Marcus walked past her, making his way toward the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The city stretched out before him, a glittering sea of power and corruption. His reflection in the glass was sharp, predatory.

"He finally showed up to recruit me, like I predicted," she said, leaning against the back of a chair.

Marcus took a slow sip of whiskey from the glass on the side table. "And?"

She smirked, stepping forward. "And what?"

"Did you accept?" he asked, finally turning to face her. His dark eyes held an amused challenge. "Or did you let him walk away empty-handed?"

Zaria studied him for a beat, then tilted her head slightly. "What do you think?"

Marcus exhaled a quiet chuckle, setting his glass down. "I think you love playing the long game, but you also know a rising force when you see one." His gaze sharpened. "So, tell me, Zaria—are you his now?"

Her smirk widened just a fraction. "He's my new boss now."

Marcus lifted his glass again, swirling the amber liquid inside. "Interesting."

Zaria moved to stand beside him at the window, their reflections overlapping in the glass.

"I need you to keep an eye on him for me," Marcus said, his tone smooth but firm.

Zaria's expression remained neutral. "Like I said, he's my new boss now." She met his gaze unflinchingly. "But one thing is for sure—I'm not fully in support of anyone. That's why I named my group the Stray Dogs."

Marcus's lips curled into an amused smile. "Playing both sides?"

"I'm going to help both parties and see where this battle goes," she added, holding his stare.

"You really think he has a shot at us?" Marcus asked, closing the distance between them. His lips found her neck, trailing upward to her jaw.

Zaria allowed it for a moment before stepping back. She reached for her coat, slipping it on with practiced elegance.

"One thing is for sure," she said, adjusting her collar, "don't underestimate him."

Marcus watched her, desire and calculation warring in his eyes. "And you? Should I be underestimating you?"

She smiled, a dangerous thing that didn't reach her eyes. "That would be your second mistake." She moved toward the door. "I'll be in touch."

"You always are," Marcus replied, picking up his glass again. "Until next time, then."

Zaria paused at the door, glancing back. "Next time," she echoed before disappearing into the night.

Marcus turned back to the window, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. The ink on his wrist caught the glow of the city lights.

'So Atlas wants to challenge Solar Shade,' he thought. 'The boss will want to hear about this interesting development.'

As Marcus swirled the whiskey in his glass, the city lights casting sharp reflections across his features, elsewhere, Andre leaned back in his seat, his fingers drumming idly against the wheel. His phone buzzed.

A single message.

A thumbs up

Andre stared at it for a moment, then smirked, tucking his phone away as the engine hummed beneath him.