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As he approached the grand double doors of Griffin's private chamber, he took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. A single armored guard stood on one side of the entrance, their eyes cold and unyielding. They nodded and opened the door, allowing Macmillan to enter.

The room was dimly lit by a massive chandelier, casting long shadows on the walls. Count Griffin sat at the far end of the room, behind an enormous mahogany desk. He looked up as Macmillan entered, his expression unreadable. The air was thick with an almost tangible Aura of power.

"Macmillan," Griffin greeted with a practised smile, his synthetic voice smooth and calculated. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Macmillan swallowed hard, his pride warring with his fear. "Count Griffin, I... I need your help."

Griffin's eyebrows raised slightly, a hint of curiosity in his otherwise impassive face. "Help? From me? This is quite unexpected."

Macmillan stepped closer, wringing his hands. "Ezra Matten is after my life. He somehow has the peacekeepers on his side. If they attack me together...." He trailed off. "I... I need protection, my lord.

I'm willing to offer something in return."

Griffin leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Go on."

"I'll hand over Ezra's debt to you. He's owing the Three Axe gang millions in credits." Macmillan blurted out. "In exchange for starting over with my new coven in another city with your recommendation, I'll leave the Three Axe gang behind."

Griffin's eyes gleamed with interest. "You're willing to abandon your position here for safety?"

Macmillan nodded, desperation clear in his eyes. "Yes. Ezra won't stop until he's killed me. I need to start over, somewhere far from here."

Griffin stood, walking around his desk to stand in front of Macmillan. He studied the trembling vampire before him, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I see. You are in quite the predicament, aren't you?"

Macmillan nodded again, his fear evident. "Please, Count Griffin. I'll do anything."

Griffin's smile widened. "Hand over Ezra's debt to me, and I'll arrange for your relocation. You'll be given a new territory to reside in, away from Ezra's reach."

Macmillan exhaled in relief, his shoulders sagging. "Thank you, Count Griffin. I'll have the documents prepared immediately."

Griffin placed a hand on Macmillan's shoulder, his grip firm. "Understand this, Macmillan. You are making a significant sacrifice, but it will ensure your survival. Do not forget the price of my protection."

"I understand," Macmillan replied, his voice shaking slightly. "I won't forget."

Griffin released him, turning back to his desk. "Very well. Prepare the documents and hand them over to my assistant. Once everything is in order, I'll send over the necessary arrangements for your relocation."

Macmillan nodded, backing away towards the door. "Thank you, Count Griffin. I won't disappoint you."

As he left the room, the weight on his shoulders felt a touch lighter. He had built his power and influence in this city meticulously, and now he was abandoning it all to save his own life. The thought of starting over in a new city, away from the dangers posed by Ezra and his peacekeepers, was both a relief and a bitter pill to swallow.

He made his way back to his own estate, the night air cool against his skin. The realization of what he was giving up gnawed at him, but he knew he had no other choice. Ezra's vengeance would be relentless, and Macmillan's survival depended on this deal with Griffin.

Once home, he quickly gathered the necessary documents, his hands shaking slightly as he signed away Ezra's debt. Each stroke of the pen felt like a final nail in the coffin of his former life. When everything was ready, he called for his most trusted aide.

"Take these to Count Griffin's sanctuary." Macmillan instructed, handing over the papers. "Ensure they reach his assistant without delay."

The aide nodded and hurried off, leaving Macmillan alone in his office. He sank into his chair, exhaustion and fear weighing heavily on him. He had always prided himself on his cunning and ruthlessness, but now those traits felt like a double-edged sword.

As the night wore on, Macmillan found himself staring out the window, his mind racing with thoughts of the future. He had no idea what lay ahead, but he knew he had made the right choice. Surviving was all that mattered now, and with Griffin's protection, he had a chance to rebuild.

The following day, Macmillan received confirmation that the documents had been delivered and accepted. Count Griffin's assistant assured him that the relocation arrangements were underway. Relief washed over him, but it was tempered by the knowledge of what he was leaving behind.

He called his coven together, informing them of the move. They would start fresh in a new city, far from the threats that had plagued them here. It was a daunting prospect, but Macmillan was determined to make it work.

He had played a dangerous game, and now he was paying the price. But he was still alive, and as long as he had breath in his body, he would find a way to rise again.

**********

Ezra walked into Count Griffin's grand office, his mind racing with questions. The lavish surroundings did very little to calm him. He had been summoned unexpectedly, and the last time that had happened, he'd ended up on trial for breach of the Law of Secrecy. This better not be the case.

Count Griffin sat behind his massive mahogany desk, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched Ezra approach. "Ah, Ezra, do come in. I have some news that I believe will interest you."

Ezra stepped forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What news?"

Griffin gestured to a chair in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat."

Ezra remained standing, his arms crossed over his chest. "I prefer to stand. If you would not mind getting to the point?"

Griffin chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. "Very well. I have decided to hand over the Three Axe gang to you."

Ezra's eyes widened in surprise. "The Three Axe gang? You're giving it to me?"

"Yes," Griffin confirmed. "Consider it a reward for your resilience and determination. But there's more. I now own your debt."

Ezra's surprise quickly turned to anger. "What do you mean, you own my debt? That debt was supposed to be settled with Macmillan."

Griffin's smile faded slightly, his expression becoming more serious. "Macmillan has handed his claim on your debt over to me in exchange for my protection and a fresh start in another city."

Ezra clenched his fists, his anger simmering just below the surface. "And what about restitution? Macmillan almost killed me, framed me and tried to destroy everything I've built. He can't just walk away from this."

Griffin's eyes gleamed with a hint of amusement. "Then, you'll be pleased to know that Macmillan is no longer under my protection. If you're fast enough, you can catch up to him before he leaves the city. Consider this your opportunity for restitution."

Ezra felt a surge of anticipation. "Where is he?"

Griffin leaned forward, his fingers steepled under his chin. "He's preparing to leave from the old warehouse district. You'll find him there, but you'd better hurry. Time waits for no man. Or so I've heard."