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A Seat at the Table
Last Updated:
2025-03-01 15:44:24
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Michael’s POVThe rag in my hand was soaked with blood.Colin’s blood.I dragged it across the cold floor, watching as the deep red colour before disappearing into the sponge. My jaw clenched, my fingers tightening around the sponge as I scrubbed harder. My arms burned, but I didn’t stop.Not because I wanted to clean this mess up. Not because I cared about following Fernando’s orders.But because if I didn’t focus on this, I would lose control.My blood boiled with rage, my mind caught in a vicious loop of memories I wished I could forget.My sister.Her laugh. Her bright eyes. The way she always believed in me, always told me I was strong enough to make something of myself.The way Fernando killed her.I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat, my grip tightening so hard on the sponge I thought it might tear apart in my hands. My nails dug into my palm, but I didn’t care."You can’t break now. Not here. Not in front of them" I told myself. I felt Fernando’s gaze on me, but I
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Michael’s POVThe night air had become dense, pressing down on my chest like a weight, but it wasn’t the cold that had my skin crawling. The very sight of Lucas shifted the balance. It was clear that he was here to add another layer of pressure, and when I felt Ashley stiffen beside me, I knew that this changed everything.Andrew’s gaze moved over to Lucas, and for the briefest moment, I see something like frustration flash across his face. But then, like a predator circling its prey, his lips curled into a slow, sinister smile. "Ah, so now we are of equal standing. How cute," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. He took a slow step forward, his gun still raised at me, and I could see his finger twitch on the trigger, eager for something, anything, to break the silence.I felt my muscles tighten, but I didn’t flinch. There was something about Andrew’s tone, something about it that almost made me laugh. Almost.But before I could say anything, Marlo cut in, his voice sh
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Michael’s POVI glanced sideways at Ashley and Marlo, their hands steady on their weapons, having the same tension I felt."Michael," Damian began, his voice smooth, almost too calm for the situation, "You and your friends—you're done. This is over. You’ve got nowhere to run. The FBI will have you soon enough. You can’t keep fighting forever. Just give up." He lowered his voice slightly, as if he trying to lull us into submission. "It’s not worth it."I couldn’t help but laugh, a cold, humorless sound that echoed through the compound. "Is that really your big plan, Damian? You think I'm going to just roll over because you say so?" I took a step forward, making sure my gun stayed steady in my hands. "You’ve clearly forgotten who you’re dealing with."Damian’s lips curled into a smirk. "I haven’t forgotten a damn thing, Michael. I just think you’re too stubborn for your own good. You’ve lost. You’re outgunned, outmanned, and you’re running out of time. There’s no escape. Just hand you
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Michael’s POVI got close enough to Damian and looked in disgust at the smile he had fixed on his face the moment he saw me."I'm here. Say what you want but after that, you're leaving" I said with a stern voice."I knew you would come out of hiding the moment you heard me call out to you" Damian attempted to come closer to me but I stepped back."You wouldn't want to do that, that's if you don't mind being shot" I said, my eyes narrowed. "It was stupid of you to have come out here.""I could say the same thing about you."Andrew swiftly came out of the shadows and the barrel of his gun pressed against my forehead like a cold whisper of death.He had moved so fast through the trees, making good use of the darkness to get close to me.The forest behind him seemed to go quiet in respect, like even nature didn’t want to interrupt this moment.But I knew his men were there, waiting. I didn't flinch. I didn’t move. I just stared at him.His eyes, sharp and gleaming with victory, drank in
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Michael’s POVFernando looked like a corpse.I never thought I would feel anything for him beyond disgust, fury, and that burning ache for revenge—but now, watching him lie unconscious in this dimly lit room, something twisted inside my chest. It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t pity. It was something uglier. More complicated.His chest barely rose beneath the sheet, his breathing shallow, mechanical, like his body had forgotten how to be alive.He was pale—unnaturally pale—like life had already started abandoning him.And still, I couldn’t let go of his hand.It was cold. Damp. Fragile. I remembered this same hand raised in arrogance, in violence, clenched into a fist as he spat cruel words at me. That same hand had pointed guns, killed people, and built the chaos we were drowning in.But right now, it wasn’t the hand of a monster. It was the hand of a dying man.I hated him. God, I hated him. But I didn’t want him to die like this.“You care about him now?” My unconscious mind asked
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Andrew’s POV Night had wrapped itself like a shroud over the woods, casting eerie shadows between the tall trees. The air was filled with anticipation, thick and unmoving, as if nature itself was holding its breath. I could hear the loud sounds of Crickets chipping in the distance, an odd contrast to the tension that vibrated through my bones. The occasional rustle of leaves teased our ears snd made our minds work like machines as vsrious questions appeared on our heads.Was it the wind or movement? Every sound could be a threat. Every second, a reminder that time was slipping.We lay in silence, our bodies half-buried in the brush, our eyes fixed on the mansion positioned at the edge of the clearing. The looming building glared back at us like a fortress, its windows glowing faintly from within. Inside, Michael and his loyal few were holed up like cornered wolves, desperate and dangerous.Patience, I reminded myself. The moment we attacked would be the moment they expected us
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Michael’s POV The smell of onions cooking in olive oil wrapped around me like a warm blanket. For a moment, just a brief moment, I let myself forget where we were, what was happening, and how much blood had already been spilled. The sound of the kitchen door opening pulled me out of my trance. Ashley leaned against the doorway, her arms folded. “Smells good,” she said, her voice soft but obvious with exhaustion. I glanced up, half-smiling as I stirred. “Figured it was time we ate something that didn’t taste like cardboard or fear.” She raised an eyebrow. “Is that what this is? A morale boost?” “Something like that,” I murmured. Ashley stepped in, rubbing the tension from the back of her neck as Mortis and Emilio followed behind her, dragging their tired bodies like the war had already been lost. Emilio sniffed the air and grinned. “Damn. Didn’t know you could cook.” I set the bowls on the table. “Survival skills.” Mortis slumped into a chair with a
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Ashley's POV The wind carried a damp, earthy scent through the cracks in the battered front door as we pressed ourselves against it, trying to catch a glimpse through the narrow hole in the wood. I could barely see much — just the faint shimmer of light bouncing off someone's gun, the shape of bodies lurking in the scattered woods surrounding the old mansion. It felt too quiet, like the world itself was holding its breath.I exchanged a glance with Mortis, then Emilio. Marlo’s jaw was tight, his dark eyes focused on the woods as though sheer force of will alone could make our enemies appear.“It’s been fifteen minutes,” Mortis muttered, lowering his gun just an inch. “I think we’re in the clear. Maybe they gave up.”“Yeah,” Emilio chimed in. “Or maybe they’re regrouping. Either way, it’s gone quiet.”I let out a humorless laugh. “You think Andrew is the type to give up? He’s out there, watching. Waiting for us to screw up. That’s his favorite game.”Both Mortis and Emilio shot me
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Andrew’s POVThe cold English air brushed against my skin as I tilted my head up to the second-story window. A dark smile went across my lips as I waited, watched to see that traitor's face.A second ago, Michael’s face had been there—staring down at me with that same infuriating calm he had always worn when things were going out of his control. And now… nothing.Good.Let him hide. Let them all scramble like rats in a sinking ship.This was my time to bring my enemies to their knees and I wasn’t going to stop until I have achieved my goal.I stepped back, scanning the old mansion ahead of us. The old Ramirez estate was barely holding itself together — cracked window glass, vine plants all over the walls, a run down compound that made it feel just like a building in a horror movie. A perfect hideout for cowards.I turned to my men, most of them hidden behind trees and old stone fences, their fingers twitching near their triggers. I didn’t have enough men for a full frontal attack.
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Michael’s POVThe weight of Anabelle in my arms was heavier than it should have been. Not because she was heavy, she really wasn’t, but because every step I took felt like I was carrying the weight of everything I had been trying to beat. The past, the lies, the blood, the betrayals.Gunshots echoed outside like a twisted symphony, but I forced myself to focus.Her blood stained my shirt, the warm, sticky sensation reminding me she didn’t have much time if we didn’t act fast. And yet, even now, she was stubborn as hell.“You’ve been lying this whole damn time,” Anabelle said, her voice a weak but fierce whisper against my ear as I carried her up the stairs. “I knew it. I always knew there was something about you, Michael. And now, I’ll make sure Fernando knows the truth when he wakes up.”"That’s if you're still alive by then because I you keep talking, you're going to loose more blood" I said to shut her up but my plan didn't work."Don't you dare talk about me dying" she said ang
