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A Seat at the Table
Last Updated:
2025-03-01 15:44:24
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Fernando’s POV I gritted my teeth as I stepped out of the black car and onto the empty street, the city lights casting making the road look less lonely than it already was.It had been hours. Hours. And still, there was no sign of Michael.Where the fuck was he?I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening as I turned to Marlo, who stood beside me, his face unreadable. The men behind us—six of them, armed and ready—waited silently for my next move. They knew better than to question me when I was in this state.We had searched everywhere.We had checked every lead, questioned every contact, and still—nothing.My patience was wearing thin.No, fuck that, my patience was gone.I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure, but the rage inside me was boiling over.Michael had been taken.And I had failed to protect him.That thought alone made my blood burn.I turned around and started walking again, my mind racing with possibilities. Who would have the guts to kidnap him? Who would dar
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Fernando’s POV The safehouse smelled of sweat, blood, and fear. I stood in the middle of it all, my gun resting in my hand, my patience wearing thin.The FBI agent in front of me was trembling, his wrists bloody from the restraints, his lips slightly parted as though he was about to say something—but hesitation held him back.I had waited long enough.“You said you knew who the undercover agent is,” I said, my voice calm and measured. “So speak.”The man swallowed hard, but before he could open his mouth, one of the other agents scoffed.“This is ridiculous,” the agent said, his voice dripping with contempt. “He’s lying to you.”I turned my head slowly, my eyes locking onto the man who had spoken. He was trying too hard to sound confident, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He was afraid, afraid of me, afraid of what I might do if I didn’t like his answer.“Oh?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “And why would he lie?”The agent straightened his back, trying to compose himself. “Beca
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Michael's POV I didn’t have time to waste.My mind raced as the full weight of the situation sank in—Fernando was being played. Someone had orchestrated the FBI attack, purposefully baiting him into a war he wasn’t supposed to be fighting. And knowing Fernando, if I didn’t stop him now, it would be too late. He would burn everything down before realizing he had been manipulated.I needed to get to him.Turning sharply, I walked toward one of the parked black csrs in the driveway. I knew Fernando had ordered my personal guards to stick to me like glue, but I couldn’t afford their interference now. If I could just get in the car—A firm hand clamped down on my shoulder.I exhaled harshly, already knowing who it was.“Where do you think you’re going?” the taller of the two guards, a broad-shouldered man named Mortis, asked in a voice thick with authority. His partner, Emilio, a slightly leaner but equally imposing man, stood beside him with his arms crossed over his chest. Both of t
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Michael's POV I moved around my room trying to get a better reception so I could put a call through to Ashley and get to the bottom of this issue which was causing my entire plan to crumble before my very eyes.The FBI were supposed to wait before they attacked in such a way that was sure to attract Fernando’s attention. Now, four agents were somewhere being treated horribly by that monster who had no regard for human life.I stopped by the window and looked closely at the phone fixed in my hand.I willed its signal status to change, for even just a couple minutes and I would be able to get what I want.As if my prayers were heard, the phone let out a beep and I was filled with hope.One bar. But I will make it work. My hands trembled as I finally managed to dial Ashley’s number. I needed to move fast before I lost this signal again, ending back where I had started. The room was dimly lit, and the faint buzz of sounds coming from the excitement downstairs made me more determined
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Fernando's POV I leaned back in my chair, one leg casually crossed over the other, my fingers tapping lightly against the armrest as I watched my men beat the hell out of the four FBI agents kneeling before me.Their faces were already swollen, blood dripping from their lips, their shirts soaked with sweat. I had to admit—I was enjoying the show.One of my men, Alejandro, delivered a particularly brutal punch to an agent’s stomach. The man fell down, coughing up blood onto the floor. Another agent let out a low, pained whimper as he was pulled back up by his collar, only to be struck again.Pathetic.I held up a hand, signaling my men to stop. Instantly, they stepped back, panting slightly from their work, but standing at attention, awaiting my next command.The agents gasped for air, their heads hanging low. One of them spat blood onto the ground, barely missing my shoe.I smirked. "You should be grateful. Most men don’t live long enough to hear me tell a story."They didn’t resp
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Michael's POV I watched as Fernando stepped out of the car, his suit sleek despite the chaos that surrounded him. His expression was unreadable, but I could see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he moved toward the van. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t look back, didn’t say another word before climbing inside and slamming the door shut behind him.I felt my stomach twist.That only meant one thing—Fernando had no intention of bringing those men back alive.I clenched my jaw as I stared at the van, my mind racing. I should have known he had more in mind than just giving them a beating of a lifetime. I needed to stop this before it was too late. But my phone—damn it. I had misplaced it earlier, and I had no way to contact Ashley or my superiors.I turned my head slightly, scanning the car. That’s when I saw a way out.The driver’s phone was sitting on the center console, just barely in my reach.I exhaled slowly. If I was going to do this, I had to be careful.Marlo was sitting i
