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Whisper's of the Past
In the dimly lit depths of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, Deyonjay Stone sat at a makeshift desk, surrounded by his most trusted lieutenants. The news of his supposed demise had spread like wildfire through the underworld, serving its purpose well. But now, as he watched the chaos unfold from the shadows, his mind was already several steps ahead. “They think am dead,” Deyonjay mused aloud, his voice a low rumble that cut through the tense silence. “Fools. They believe they’ve won, that they can now carve up my empire amongst themselves.” His right hand Marcus, nodded eagerly. “They’ll never see us coming, boss. Deyonjay’s gaze narrowed, his mind calculating the next move. “Krissan Jarrett is a formidable opponent,” he admitted, his voice tinged with respect. “But s
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