Jackie looked at Leo. "He's my friend—and Padre's friend too. Even if Padre were here, he wouldn't refuse a friend's presence."
"But in the end, he's still an outsider."
"He saved one of my men. He's a friend of mine. I agree to let him stay," Gustavo said coldly. "Gonzalez, if you've got a problem with that, you're free to leave. The door's over there—go ahead."
Gonzalez's face darkened as soon as Gustavo spoke. Among the Valentinos, the Gustavo family was the most powerful. He couldn't afford to offend them. So instead, he looked to recruit an ally.
"Manuel, you don't have anything to say? You really have no opinion at all?"
"There's precedent in Valentino history for outsiders to be involved. If Jackie thinks Mr. Leo should be here, I've got no objections."
Shut down without support, Gonzalez fell silent, and Jackie continued.
"I believe everyone here already knows why I've asked you all to come..."
But before he could finish, Juan cut him off bluntly.
"Jackie, who made you the one to speak here?"
Leo narrowed his eyes. Once might be a coincidence. Twice, definitely not. It was clear that the Valentinos weren't exactly a unified front. He could understand it—after all, even inside the corporations, infighting between departments was fierce and brutal. But right now, with a greater enemy looming, this kind of internal power struggle was nothing short of self-sabotage.
Gustavo's voice was full of discontent. "Padre's been attacked, seriously injured, and hospitalized. A kingdom can't go without a king, and Padre's people can't go without someone to take charge."
"So you think he should be the one?"
Jackie frowned. "Mr. Juan, what exactly are you trying to say?"
"What am I trying to say? Empires rise, and empires fall. Don't you think it's about time Padre paid back what he took when the wind was blowing in his favor?"
Seeing them dance around the point, Leo turned to Marcus beside him. "Marcus, what's he talking about?"
"There's something you may not know, Mr. Leo," Marcus said helplessly.
Through Marcus's explanation, Leo finally understood why Juan and the others were so hostile toward Jackie and Padre's faction. As it turned out, a significant portion of Padre's current turf used to belong to the Juan family. A few years ago, the Juan family went through internal strife, and many of their members were killed. The opposition was dissatisfied with Juan, the current head, and defected to Padre's side, bringing not only manpower but also turf.
Naturally, Juan resented that deeply. But back then, the situation left him with no options. Now that Padre had been ambushed by the 6th Street Gang and was lying in a hospital bed, Juan saw an opportunity. Before coming here, he had already spoken with Gonzalez and Hernandez. Juan was willing to pay a price in exchange for their support.
So his appearance today wasn't about helping—it was about seizing Padre's turf while he was down, a personal act of revenge.
Jackie wasn't about to let that happen. Not just because of his old friendship with Padre, but because Juan was clearly trying to exploit a crisis. And this realization made Leo, who had been observing silently, understand why the Valentinos were so divided. Despite Heywood being a Latino-controlled district, they had even lost parts of Vista del Rey to 6th Street—and never taken them back.
Turns out, betrayal wasn't just for outsiders—it happened even among "brothers."
Gustavo stepped forward. "Juan, you really want to start fighting amongst ourselves right now? You think the 6th Street Gang won't see this as weakness?"
But Juan remained defiant. "Why should I care what they think? Besides, the Clemente family of 6th Street targeted Padre, not us. What are you so worked up about, Gustavo?"
Juan wasn't a fool—he had his own calculations. He knew the Clementes family targeted Padre because Padre was the only force strong enough to challenge them in Vista del Rey. Juan had little presence there, almost none, so he was fine with letting the 6th Street Gang take it—he had no chance of controlling it anyway. But Padre's turf was a different matter—he could take that, and with little risk. After all, Padre was stuck in a hospital bed. By the time he woke up, it would be too late.
That was Juan's thinking—and the reason he was challenging Jackie now.
"Juan," Jackie's gaze turned cold, dropping the "Mr." entirely. "I know all about your history with Padre. You're not getting his turf. Once Padre wakes up, I'll talk to him—maybe he can find another way to make things right with you."
"You'll talk to Padre?" Juan sneered. "Let's be honest—Padre's not going to give up anything. And you? Who the hell do you think you are? Just because you can step foot in the Afterlife, you think you're someone important?"
His words were crude, but he had reason to be arrogant. In his mind, mercs were just mercs—maybe they had a few skilled friends, maybe they formed a team. But how many were they? Meanwhile, he was the head of the Juan family, commanding hundreds of soldiers. And he had money—money to hire even more muscle if he needed to.
"So, you're saying you're determined to pick a fight?"
"How is this picking a fight? I'm just taking back what was mine. Padre took in my traitorous men—he should've known this day would come."
"Fine. Fine. Fine." Jackie repeated the word three times, each colder than the last. He stared directly into Juan's eyes. "Then there's only one solution. I challenge you to a Trial by the Saint of Death."
The room went dead silent.
Not just Marcus and Gustavo—even Juan's own people looked stunned. Everyone stared at Jackie in disbelief, as if they hadn't heard him right.
Juan swallowed hard. "You... you said what?"
"Trial by the Saint of Death. You want Padre's turf? Let Santa Muerte decide."
Seeing the shock written across everyone's faces, Leo leaned toward Marcus and whispered, "Marcus, what's a Trial by the Saint of Death?"
Marcus answered via comms, "It's a Valentino tradition—a sacred duel to resolve disputes. The two sides draw weapons and fight. Under Santa Muerte's gaze, the victor earns legitimacy and justice."
"Because of the trial's sacred nature, once both sides agree, there's no backing out. It ends only in death. All grudges are buried along with the loser's soul and life, claimed by our Lady of Holy Death."
Leo found it hard to believe. "One duel... really ends everything? No revenge afterward?"
Marcus shook his head. "You're not from here, so I understand. But to us, Santa Muerte is sacred. From childhood, our parents teach us never to make a mockery of her. To swear in her name, then break that oath—would earn the contempt of every Valentino."
..................
.......
.
Night fell. Neon lights flickered to life. The streets outside were empty.
But inside an abandoned warehouse, the space was packed.
Padre's people were here, along with members from various Valentino families.
Not everyone showed up, but even so, the warehouse was crammed.
At its center stood a makeshift boxing ring. On either side stood Jackie and a young, strong man.
No—Jackie wasn't facing Juan himself, but one of his underlings.
In Trials by the Saint of Death, a proxy could be used. Leaders valued their lives; no matter how sacred the duel, they weren't going to die over it.
Juan patted the young man on the shoulder. "Blanca, it's in your hands."
Blanca's eyes lit up. He cracked his knuckles.
Cybernetic tendons flexing with a hiss—K-TCHK!—like a hydraulic press locking into place, ready to crush.
"Don't worry, boss."