Although Aron no longer shadowed Max every weekend the way he had back in school, he hadn’t stopped watching over him entirely. Things were different now, there were no more classrooms, no more excuses to hover nearby, but Aron had found other ways to keep track of him. Sometimes he sent Na to follow discreetly. Other times he came himself, making sure Max was never truly alone.
It just so happened that tonight was one of those times when both Aron and Na were out together. The two had seen Max leaving the Billion Bloodline building and had silently trailed his steps, following from the shadows. Every move he made was monitored, every turn of his head, every stop at the crossing.
They had their reasons. The danger hadn’t passed. Not when someone from the Stern family could still be plotting against Max’s life. That reality was burned into Aron’s mind. He had nearly failed once already, nearly allowed Max to be killed. He swore never to fail again. That was why he always ensured someone knew where Max was, no matter the time of day.
Of course, Max was aware of this. He had sensed Aron’s presence more than once, and he had guessed Na’s role as well. That was why he had tried to warn the attackers earlier, it was never going to be a fair fight for them.
Aron moved first. Swiftly, almost too fast for the eye to follow, his baton clashed against the metal pipe of one of the bikers. The crack of impact rang sharp through the street. The man’s arm jolted back violently, the sheer power of Aron’s strike making him stumble.
Aron didn’t let up. He stepped forward with ruthless precision, his baton snapping down against the knuckles of the man’s hand. Once. Twice. A third time. The repeated blows forced the man’s grip to loosen until, with a clatter, the pipe dropped to the ground.
Desperate, the attacker swung a bare fist in retaliation. But Aron had already moved inside his reach. He slid close, his body tilting just out of the fist’s path, and with a swift motion of the baton’s back end, he struck upward. The blow landed squarely beneath the man’s chin. His head snapped back, his eyes rolled, and his knees buckled as he collapsed to the pavement.
On the other side, Na was already finishing his fight. His fists struck like hammers, each blow precise and powerful. Two heavy punches landed clean against the second man’s stomach, driving the air from his lungs. He gagged, doubling over, before he shoved him aside. He too dropped to the ground, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.
In seconds, both men were down. The sound of their pipes rolling on the asphalt was the only thing left echoing in the silence.
Aron stood tall, twirling his baton once before letting it rest at his side. His sharp eyes studied the groaning attackers. "I thought someone might try something in broad daylight, but these two... they’re confusing."
Max tilted his head. "Confusing how?"
"He means they’re better than we thought and worse at the same time," Na answered flatly, his arms crossed as he stared at the man he had knocked down. "They’re not just ordinary thugs. They can fight, and they can take a beating. But if they were truly after you because of who you are, they would have done their homework. They would have known Aron was your guard. They would have realized this wouldn’t be enough to take him out."
His words left Max thoughtful. He ran through the possibilities in his mind. If these men didn’t even know about Aron, then who had sent them?
Two options stood out.
The first was the Stern family. Someone in his bloodline still wanted him dead. That was no secret.
The second was Anton. The man had plenty of reason to hold a grudge, and he wasn’t above hiring muscle to do his dirty work.
"Rather than waste time guessing," Aron said, his gaze never leaving the two groaning men, "there’s one simple way to find out." He turned his head slightly toward Na. "Let’s drag them off the road. I’ll have answers soon enough."
Before Max could even object, Na was already moving. he seized one of the attackers by the collar and began dragging him toward a wall at the edge of the courtyard. Aron did the same with the other.
Max let out a breath, his eyes narrowing slightly. Sometimes he wondered whether Na worked for him or for Aron. The way he followed Aron’s orders without hesitation made it clear where his loyalty lay.
A few moments later, muffled cries of pain echoed faintly from behind the wall. Max winced slightly at the sound. It wasn’t hard to imagine what Aron was doing back there. But the cries didn’t last long, they cut off abruptly, leaving only the heavy quiet of the night.
When Aron returned, his expression was as unreadable as ever. He was dialing his phone, his tone calm as he spoke into it. Minutes later, the sharp wail of a siren grew louder. A police car pulled up, its red and blue lights flashing against the buildings. The two men, bruised and battered, were hauled into the back seat with cuffs clamped tight around their wrists.
Max raised an eyebrow. ’Aron has connections with the police too, huh? I guess he can spin this however he wants. He’ll just say they tried to assault me. Even though looking at them now... it’s obvious who got the worse end of it.’
As Aron and Na approached him again, Max noticed something peculiar. Na was murmuring under his breath, his eyes narrowed.
"Remind me," he muttered, "never to make that man angry again."
The look in his eyes wasn’t just caution. It was something close to unease. Max frowned slightly at that. Na had served in either the military or special forces before. He was used to violence, used to blood. What exactly had he seen Aron do back there that unsettled him so much? Max decided not to ask. He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.
Finally, Aron spoke, his voice steady. "They were Black Hounds. Both of them. But they didn’t know much. They weren’t told why they had to target you. The only order they were given was to deal with a kid from this building who had red hair. That’s all."
Max’s chest tightened at the name. The Black Hounds. He hadn’t expected that answer.
So now it was them. But why? Was it because of what he had done at one of their venues? Was it because of Chad Stern, and the debts tied to him?
Or maybe, just maybe, they had discovered the truth, that the businesses, the gym, the deliveries, the restaurants, even the schools, all of it was connected. That Max was the one pulling the strings.
His hand tightened into a fist. ’But they wouldn’t think I’m the leader, would they? No... they couldn’t possibly believe that. Still, after tonight... this whole thing might turn into something much bigger than I expected.’