CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN (ELI'S POV)

I woke up with one goal in mind.

Kill Marco Vasquez.

It was the only way to prove myself. The only way to survive. The only way to make up for my mistakes. The only way for them to like and trust me again.

Matteo and Luca hadn’t come to me last night. It wasn't like I had expected them to do so after everything I had done but it still hurts.

I was alone.

And I would stay that way until I earned back what I had lost.

I had to do this.

I had to kill my boss.

The problem?

Marco Vasquez wasn’t just some low-level thug. He was one of the top officials in the FBI. He was smart, dangerous, strong and heavily protected.

If I wanted to get close enough to put a bullet between his eyes, I needed a plan.

And I had to be just as smart as him.

I sat in my room for a good chunk of the morning going over a million plans in my head before finally settling on one. So I started with the first step which was the bait.

I pushed out of bed, stretching the soreness from my muscles, then grabbed my burner phone.

No new messages.

Good.

That meant Marco was still waiting, still watching, still hoping I would crawl back.

I quickly shot him a text.

Me: I fucked up.

Less than thirty seconds later, my phone buzzed.

Marco: Have you finally come to your senses?

I took a steady breath, fingers hovering over the keyboard before I typed my next message.

Me: They know everything.

Another buzz.

Marco: Where are you?

I hesitated then typed the first half of my lie.

Me: On the run. Can’t talk long. They’re hunting me.

A pause then,

Marco: Where do you need me?

I smiled. He had taken the bait. Hook, line and sinker.

Now, it was time for the next step. Making the trap.

I had to make it seem very convincing. If I just called Marco to a random location, he’d be suspicious.

So I needed to run first and let him track me. Make him believe that I was truly desperate which meant that I needed Luca and Matteo to play along.

I got dressed quickly, throwing on a dark hoodie, jeans, and boots before heading downstairs.

I found them in the kitchen, again.

Matteo was pouring coffee. Luca was leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone.

They looked too perfect. Like a scene out of a dream.

And I didn’t belong in that picture.

Not yet.

I cleared my throat, and they both looked up.

“Morning.” I said.

Matteo just stared.

Luca raised an eyebrow. “You look like you have something to say. Spit it out.”

I swallowed hard. “I need your help.”

Luca tilted his head. “With?”

I exhaled. “Killing Marco.”

There was a brief moment of silence then Matteo smirked and finally spoke.

“This should be good.”

Now, it was two three. Making it all real.

They didn't say no. They didn't ask how, they just sat and listened as I rattled off my plan.

Told them that I was going to run. That I was going to make Marco think I was on the verge of dying and that I was desperately in need of safety.

And where would they come in? They were going to chase me.

“I need him to believe I’m in danger,” I said. “Enough to come after me himself.”

Matteo crossed his arms. “And if he doesn’t?”

“He will,” I said, meeting his gaze. “Because Marco doesn’t trust anyone else to clean up his messes.”

Luca hummed, thoughtful. “And what do we get out of it?”

I hesitated. Then, “isn't this what you guys wanted? For me to prove my loyalty and completely belong to you?”

Matteo’s smirk widened. “You already do.”

Luca took a slow sip of his coffee. “We’ll play along. But if you fail—”

“I won’t.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable.

I didn’t let myself dwell on it.

I couldn’t.

Next was step four, the chase.

Three hours later, I was running.

Gunfire echoed behind me, real bullets, but deliberately aimed to miss.

I crashed through the trees, stumbled to the ground, sprinting through the forest behind the estate, breathing hard and playing the part.

Scared.

Desperate.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I yanked it out, answering without stopping. Breathing very hard. “Marco?”

“Where the fuck are you?” he snapped. “We’re tracking your phone, but you’re moving too fast.”

“They’re right behind me,” I panted. “I can’t—I don’t know how long I can—”

A shot whizzed past my head.

I cursed, diving behind a fallen tree.

Matteo was good.

He was making this look real.

“Tell me where to go,” I begged into the phone. “Please. I need—”

“I got you,” Marco growled. “Head to the docks. I’ll have a boat waiting.”

I let out a shaky breath.

The final piece had fallen into place.

Finally, it was step five. The kill.

Marco was waiting just like I knew he would be by the time I got there.

I staggered onto the docks, body tense, breath ragged, clothes filthy.

I had to look like someone escaping from the mafia.

Marco stood near the edge, arms crossed, gun holstered at his hip. His dark eyes swept over me, cold and calculating.

“You look like shit,” he said.

“I know,” I whispered.

He stepped forward. “You got anything on you?”

I shook my head. “Just me.”

He studied me for a second then said, “Get on the boat,” he ordered.

I hesitated then took a slow step forward.

Then another.

Closer.

Closer.

And then I lunged.

I grabbed his gun from his holster, bringing it free before he could react and fired.

One shot.

Right between the eyes.

Marco Vasquez was dead before he hit the ground.

I exhaled.

Then collapsed to my knees.

I had done it.

I had killed my boss.

And now?

Now I belong to them.

Forever.