Page 47 of Manic

Standing back up, I hand over the money to the dealer.

He counts it quickly, then pulls out a small package from his jacket.

As he passes it to me, I ask, "Yo, what's your name for next time?"

The dealer hesitates for a moment, then shrugs. "Rio," he says simply.

I nod, pocketing the drugs. "Cool, man. I'll be back when I'm out."

Rio gives a half-smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "All good, brotha. Stay safe out there."

As Emil and I turn to leave, I can't help but feel a mixture of relief and tension.

Walking back to the car, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "That went smooth," Emil mutters under his breath.

I nod, my mind already racing ahead to what comes next. "Yeah, but let's not celebrate yet. We've still got a long night ahead of us."

As we climb back into the beater, I can't shake the feeling that something big is going on.

The beater car rumbles to life as I turn the key, the engine coughing like it's on its last legs.

Emil and I exchange a look, both of us eager to get back to familiar territory.

As we pull away from the curb, my eyes dart to the rearview mirror, making sure we're not being followed.

"Let's take a look at what we got," I say, keeping my voice low even though we're alone in the car.

Emil nods, fishing the small baggie out of his pocket.

Under the dim glow of passing streetlights, we examine the package.

There, stamped clearly on the side, is the unmistakable silhouette of an eagle.

"Shit," I mutter, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. "It's the same as before."

Emil lets out a low whistle. "Your old man's not gonna like this, Tor."

I grunt in agreement, my mind already racing ahead.

As we approach the clubhouse, I can see Ulf's silhouette by the gate.

He buzzes us in without hesitation, but I catch the questioning look in his eyes as we pass.

He knows something's up.

I park the car and turn to Emil. "You good to debrief with the others?" I ask, already reaching for the baggie.

He nods, understanding my unspoken request. "Yeah, I got it. Go do what you gotta do."

Pocketing the drugs, I head into the clubhouse, my eyes scanning for my father.

The main room is bustling with activity, but I spot him quickly, standing with Fenrir and Kraken near the bar.

As I approach, I can feel the weight of their gazes.

My father's eyes narrow slightly, reading the tension in my shoulders.

"Well?" he asks, his voice low and expectant.

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