Page 43 of Nocturne
“What did you mean by that message?” I ask straight up. “What do you know about Noah?”
Zachary intertwines his fingers like he’s about to give a lecture. “Well… first off, I know who’s funding Midnight Echoes.”
His words hit like a punch. And I feel like an idiot. Member of Boston’s most feared gang, with informants everywhere... and no damn clue. Not even Carter knew — or hid it from me. If that’s the case, I swear I’ll smash his face.
“His name’s Jackson McAllister. A reformist conservative. The guy’s respected, popular with the elite, knows how to sell his own image.” He rubs his hands together, like he’s still weighing his words. “Jackson’s obsessed with his legacy. Wants to be remembered as the man who ‘saved Boston from decay.’ But for that to happen… the city needs to sink first.”
“What the fuck…” I murmur, swallowing my disbelief.
“That’s where Midnight comes in.” Zachary continues, his voice low and sharp. “He needs them to spread chaos. The more fear on the streets, the more support he gets to push the authoritarian security policies he’s backing. In exchange, the gang gets everything: territorial expansion, legal immunity, military-grade weapons, international routes.”
I lick my lips, my heart sinking deep in my chest, unable to process it all at once.
“But it’s not just that... There's an informant, someone on the inside, helping Midnight. Could be someone from Iron Requiem or Nocturne Pact.”
My vision blurs at those words. He just said there’s a traitor inside my own gang, or the rival gang. How the fuck am I supposed to handle all this shit surrounding my life?
“I... I don’t believe you, man,” I say, my voice cracking, drowned by confusion and disbelief. “And how the fuck do you know all this shit?”
Zachary stares at me, eyes narrowed, weighing every word before dropping:
“Damon, I’m a cop. And about your brother, Noah... he was being recruited by Midnight Echoes. He handed over a list of witnesses that had to be killed to protect Landon Steele, Midnight’s OG. He was one of them.”
He pauses, letting the weight of the truth sink into the silence.
“Not what you wanted to hear. But it’s the truth.”
I catch my breath, clenching my fists so tight my knuckles turn white. It’s hard to swallow all this — my brother, the possible traitor, Midnight’s dirty plans. Too much weight to bear. I stumble, almost hitting the bathroom floor, but take a deep breath, fighting to keep the chaos that always threatens to take over in check. I adjust my jacket, glare at Zachary with a furrowed brow, my face shut down like stone.
A chill runs down my spine, a tight knot in my stomach that feels like it wants to choke me. My throat dries up, the world closing in a whirlwind of doubts and silent rage. The image of Noah — my dead brother, my shattered past — hits me hard, and a bitter taste floods my mouth. My fingers tremble for a moment before I squeeze my fists tighter, trying to hold back the storm threatening to explode inside.
“Don’t contact me again.” My voice comes out dry, sharp. I turn my back and walk out, leaving him there, the rotten truth hanging heavy in the air.
?????
“Please, tell me you got anything on where that motherfucker’s hiding.” Emma’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and desperate. I can hear the tremble of tears in her throat, even though she tries to hide it. I know she’ll do whatever it takes to avenge Sean’s death — and she won’t back down for anything.
“Unfortunately, Aiden’s been keeping low, moving under the radar in Boston.” Carter’s voice hangs heavy in the air like lead. I know we’re tied up, stuck in a dead-end alley reeking of failure.
How the fuck does a bastard like that get into our territory, roll with the Midnight Echoes, kill one of ours, and we can’t lay a hand on him even in our own city? That shit’s impossible. Shouldn’t be possible.
“You got nothing? No address? No clue where they meet?”
“Nothing.” Carter’s head drops, defeated, like he’s carrying the weight of the world right then. The silence that settles is a knot in my chest, a warning that the game just got a hell of a lot more dangerous — and we’re sinking deeper every second.
“Those motherfuckers roll into our city, and we just gonna let that slide?!” Vincent’s voice explodes in the air, loud, sharp, loaded with a fury that feels like it could tear the walls apart.
We want answers. We want payback. Nobody — absolutely nobody — kills one of ours and walks away clean. Never.
CHAPTER 8
HUNTER
"Do you know the reason behind the truce between Iron Requiem and Nocturne Pact?" The question catches me off guard. I take a deep breath, trying to keep my gaze steady. O’Connor is sitting on the other side of the table, upright posture, fingers intertwined, like every muscle in his body is under total control. The dress shirt clings to his broad chest, the tie too tight around his neck. He doesn’t blink. Just wait. Looks at me like he already knows the answer, but wants to hear it from my mouth.
"’Cause Midnight Echoes is trying to take over Boston… Landon Steele is fucking everything up. They want to destroy what we’ve built these past few years." But the truth is, I’m not even sure of that myself. The answer comes out bitter, hesitant.
"That too." O'Connor crosses his arms and leans forward, elbows resting on the table. His stare burns like acid.
