Fernando’s POV The night was thick with the scent of gunpowder as bullets ripped through the air, each one carrying the intent to kill. I bent behind the overturned car, gripping my gun so tightly my knuckles turned white. Marlo was beside me, reloading his weapon with the efficiency of a man who had danced with death too many times before. My men were scattered, ducking behind whatever cover they could find, exchanging gunfire with the bastards who dared to ambush us.I was filled with so much rage.My patience was at its breaking point, my fury barely contained beneath the surface. Michael was still missing, and now we had these worthless pieces of trash trying to gun us down. I clenched my jaw. Someone was playing games with me, and I wasn’t in the mood for amusement.A bullet bounced off the hood of the car, sending sparks into the air. Marlo cursed under his breath.“This isn’t working,” Marlo muttered. “They have us pinned. Every time we move, they push harder. We need a
Michael’s POVDarkness.It stretched around me, thick and suffocating, pressing in from all sides. My breath came in short, shallow gasps as I reached out, searching for something, anything, to ground me. The ground beneath my feet felt solid, but the air was cold, unnatural, as if I were standing in a place that didn’t belong to the living.My fingers twitched. Where the hell was I?I turned slowly, trying to make sense of my surroundings. There were no walls, no ceiling, just an endless void stretching in every direction. The silence was deafening, filling my ears with an eerie hum. My heart pounded.Then, I heard it.Footsteps.Soft, deliberate, approaching from the darkness. I reached for my gun, but I wasn’t carrying one. My fingers curled into a useless fist.And then—I saw her.My breath caught in my throat.“No…”She stepped forward, emerging from the dark like a ghost, her legs barely touching the ground. Her hair was exactly as I remembered—long, dark waves falling pa
Fernando’s POVThe air in the meeting room was thick with cigar smoke and tension. Rodger Holt sat to my left, his usual cocky smirk absent for once and his cold blue eyes scanned the room with distrust. Across from him, Nikolai Petrov leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Santiago, always the most calm, adjusted his pristine cuffs, his expression unreadable beneath the dim chandelier light.I sat at the head of the table, fingers drumming against the polished surface, taking in the power dynamics before me. These were men who would slit a throat over a bad deal, men who did not fear death. But today, I needed them to fear me.I exhaled slowly and leaned forward.“We have a problem,” I began, my voice calm but filled with anger.Rodger raised an eyebrow. “What kind of problem?”I scanned the room, making sure every single one of them was paying attention.“The kind that could have turned into a war.”A flicker of interest passed over Nikolai’s face, but he said n
Michael’s POVThe garden was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the distant chirping of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves as the night breeze moved through the trees. I reached into my pocket, feeling the edges of the phone I had stolen earlier. This device had served its purpose, but now it was a liability. If the FBI managed to track it, they’d find me, and I couldn't afford that—not when I was finally within reach of my revenge.I hid near the fountain, my fingers tightening around the phone. The realization had fully sunk in now: I was an enemy of the FBI. The people I had once worked alongside were now hunting me. It should have felt like a betrayal, but it didn’t.I had made my choice.With a swift movement, I slammed the phone against the edge of the fountain. The screen cracked instantly, but I wasn’t done. I raised it again, smashing it with more force. I took a deep breath, grabbed the remnants, and threw them into the thick bushes nearby.No loose ends.I was ab
Fernando’s POV“Well, well,” I said, tilting my head and turning my attention away from Michaeland focusing on whatever was happening here. “What a curious little meeting we have here.”Anabelle immediately straightened, her posture becoming rigidly formal.“Sir,” she said with the utmost respect, her voice steady but careful. “I—”I held up a hand, stopping her. “Anabelle,” I said smoothly, “what exactly are you doing outside the mansion at this hour? It is not your duty to patrol the gardens.”Her lips parted slightly, as if trying to come up with an excuse, but she hesitated. She knew better than to lie to me. Finally, after a very short while, she answered.“I saw Michael walking through the garden,” she admitted. “I wanted to follow him.”Michael scoffed under his breath, but I ignored him, keeping my eyes on Anabelle.I took another step toward her, closing the distance just enough to make her feel my presence. “And why did you feel the need to follow him?” I asked, my eyes s
Michael’s POVI tore the shirt over my head, taking it off with more force than necessary. The fabric clung stubbornly for a second before finally giving way, allowing me to throw it onto the chair in the corner of my dimly lit room. I stood before the mirror, glaring at my own reflection as if it had betrayed me.I could still feel the warmth of his lips on my hand and it only made me feel even more conflicted than I already was.I took a look at it, almost imagining him standing there just like he had done a few moments ago, while he kissed my knuckles with such delicate touch of his lips that I felt my breath hitch.Thus wasn't how it was supposed to go.My jaw clenched, my fingers twitching at my sides as I replayed that moment over and over in my head.Fernando.His voice. His words."I want to make you happy, Michael."Did he even know what my happiness entails for him to have the confidence to say such hollow words like they were supposed to mean something. I scoffed, shakin
Fernando's POVThe food was hot and gave off the scent of something expensive and well-prepared. I should’ve been eating. My body was screaming for food after the long, exhausting times i have had—but my thoughts were wrapped around my ribcage, tight and suffocating.Michael was sitting right across from me, a fork in his hand, his head tilted slightly to the side as he chewed on his food in deliberate silence. Like I wasn’t even there. Like I hadn’t just tried—desperately—to get his attention in the garden.And it was driving me absolutely insane.He had ignored me in the garden. I saw the way his gaze had flicked past me like I was invisible, like the wind brushing his shoulder meant more than my presence. Then we came here, to the dining hall, and he still hadn’t said a word. Still hadn’t looked at me properly. Still hadn’t asked me if I was okay after everything we went through.It wasn’t like him.Michael was always composed, yes. Often quiet, yes. But he wasn’t this detached
Michael’s POVI didn’t expect those words from him.Not from the man who had murdered my sister.Yet there he sat, a soft glow of sincerity in his voice, his eyes steady and unwavering as he spoke—not with the cruel confidence I was used to seeing in his expression, but something… different. Something warmer. And it shook something loose in me.Something I didn’t want to feel.I knew the poison was there, hidden neatly in the delicately prepared dish placed at Fernando’s seat. I knew if he took even a few bites, his breath would catch in his throat, his heart would stutter, and he would die—painfully and silently, just as planned.But why now, of all moments, did I feel the tremble in my fingers?I didn’t even realize I was still holding his hand until he turned to me.“Michael… why are you holding me like this?” he asked. His voice was low, the same calm tone. But there was no edge in it. No mockery. Just a quiet question, spoken with a care I hadn’t expected.My eyes widened. I lo
Michael’s POV The dirt road stretched endlessly before me and I was already fed up.With this errand.With this car.With everything."Son of a bitch," I muttered. "Trapped like a damn errand boy for criminals.""FBI to grocery runner. What a goddamn fall from grace."Images of Fernando flashed in my mind and I couldn’t shake the burning fury that surged through me when Anabelle told me I wasn’t even allowed to see him.“Who the hell do they think they are?” I hissed.Marlo. That cold bastard. I had known men like him during my FBI days—calculating and power-hungry. The worst kind of criminals weren’t the loud, violent ones. It was the calm ones. The ones who made you believe they were doing you a favor as they cut you into pieces.And Anabelle... God, she got under my skin more than I cared to admit. "I should’ve never gotten involved with them," I said, shaking my head. "Should have left when I had the chance. Should have taken Fernando and—"BANG!The engine gave a violent shud
Michael's POV I groaned and blinked against the early morning haze, the light of dawn spilling through the half-open blinds.And then I saw her.Anabelle.Standing at the foot of my bed like some judgmental ghost that forgot to knock. Her arms were crossed and she had a scowl etched onto her face.“What the hell,” I muttered. “Did you lose your way to the kitchen or are you just creeping into bedrooms for fun now?”She didn’t smile. Of course she didn’t.“I’ve been standing here for five minutes,” she said flatly. “You snore like a dying engine.”“Charming.” I pushed myself up, wiping sleep from my eyes. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. Last I checked, I didn’t invite you into my room. Unless watching me sleep is your new hobby.”“You wish.” Her tone was dry, and she didn’t move an inch. “We have a situation.”“A situation,” I echoed. “Does it involve you and Marlo having sex in the kitchen last night? Because if it does, I’ll grab some popcorn next time. Hell, maybe
Marlo's POVI touched my jaw, wincing slightly as my fingers brushed over the tender spot where Michael's fist had connected. That bastard had actually punched me and it surprisingly hurt much more than I had expected it would. The sting was sharp, but beneath it was an unmistakable excitement. A low chuckle escaped my lips as I leaned against the cool marble countertop of the dimly lit kitchen. Now I understood why Fernando had always found such delight in toying with Michael.There was a fiery spirit beneath that brooding exterior, one that was irresistibly tempting to provoke.I hated to admit it but I found myself wanting more of him.The kitchen was a filled with a lot of outdated appliances and dusty surfaces, which showed that the mansion has been abandoned for far too long. In the center, Emilio and Mortis sat at the worn wooden table, finishing off the remnants of their dinner. Their conversation was muted, the clinking of cutlery against their plates the only audible s
Michael’s POV The journey had been long and exhausting, but as we finally arrived at Fernando's family estate in the English countryside, a new wave of weariness washed over me. The mansion loomed before us, a grand building that had clearly once been a testament to power and wealth. Now, however, it stood as a relic of the past—its once-elegant walls covered by layers of dust and neglect. The sprawling grounds were overgrown with weeds because there had been no one to look after it. The air was thick with the scent of dampness and decay, a stark reminder that no one had set foot here in years.Marlo stepped forward, his boots crunching against the gravel driveway. He turned to face us, his expression a mix of determination and authority."Listen up," he began, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness. "This place may look like a dump now, but it's going to be our sanctuary for the foreseeable future. The feds are on our tails, and we need a place to lay low. It's not going to
Michael’s POVThe hum of the private jet’s engines filled the cabin as I stepped into the aisle behind Emilio, keeping my gaze fixed ahead—until I saw him.Fernando.His body was strapped down like he was already dead. His skin, usually warm and full of fire, was pale. It was like someone had drained the life from him, and now we were carrying around the empty shell.I didn’t even try to swallow the lump in my throat. It was permanent now.We had paid good money—stupid money—to make sure no one asked questions about Fernando.As long as the money was available, nobody cared.I scanned the seats, brows furrowing. Row seventeen.My spot was way in the back, far from where Marlo, Anabelle, Mortis, and Emilio had already gathered near Fernando’s medical area. It felt deliberate—like being shoved into a corner and told to stay there.I clenched my jaw and marched up to Marlo’s seat.“Hey,” I said, coldly. “What’s this about? Why the hell am I back there?”Marlo didn’t even look surprise
Michael’s POVThe paper trembled in my hand.I didn’t even realize how tightly I was gripping it until the edges started to tear beneath my fingertips. Elise.Her name was right there."Subject witnessed the exchange on the 16th. Resulted in immediate action. Orders came from Council, not directly from F.M. Cover-up executed. All media rerouted."Council? Immediate action?My chest felt tight. My sister—Elise—had been murdered… because she’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to. I couldn’t breathe.“Michael!”I didn’t react fast enough.Suddenly, a hand gripped my shoulder and pulled me backwards roughly as if I was a rag doll.“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marlo’s voice was a sharp whisper, and before I could respond, he shoved me against the bookshelf in Fernando’s study and clamped a hand over my mouth. “Quiet.”Footsteps, like a dozens of them, sounded past the closed door. Shadows moved across the faint light coming in through the cracks. I heard voices barking orders,
Michael’s POV The hand that pulled me inside was rough and urgent, gripping my collar like I was something light they can manhandle without any consequence.My body collided with the cool wood of a bookshelf, and before I could say a word, a palm came over my mouth. My instinct screamed to fight, but then I saw his eyes.It was Marlo."Shh," he said, his voice barely a whisper in the dim light of Fernando’s study.I still wanted to argue but the sudden silence of the entire room told me to be quiet and do as he said.Boots ran past outside. I could make out shadows of armed agents as they moved through the hallway in search of more people to either kill or arrest, depending on if they resisted or not. I held my breath, every muscle tensed, my heart thudding so loud I thought they would hear it. Marlo’s hand stayed over my mouth, firm but not forceful.Five… six agents… maybe more.They were still searching for any one of Fernando’s men.When the sound of their footsteps faded down
Michael's POV The air was tight with tension.Ashley and I stood frozen, our backs barely brushing, guns lowered from our embrace only moments ago. The sound of a man pierced the silence, and I turned slowly to face the source of the threat.One of Fernando’s men—Diego, if I remembered correctly—stood in the shattered hallway, his gun raised directly at Ashley’s chest. His eyes were red with fury, his chest heaving, blood running down the side of his face. Whether it was his own or someone else's, I couldn’t tell.What I could tell was that he had seen Mr together with an FBI agent, Ashley, and now all sorts if things were running around in his head.I watched as his eyes moved between me and Ashley, as if trying to make sense of the situation and convince himself that everything wasn't as it seemed.It didn't take him long for his steel determination followed by a steady expression to take place on his features as he steadied his gun raised arm.“Ashley,” I said under my breath,
Michael’s POV The tension in the air was suffocating. Time seemed to stand still as I locked eyes with Ashley. She had a gun aimed at me, and I had one aimed right back at her.I didn't blink."Drop your weapons," Ashley's voice was steady. "All of you. Now."I didn't flinch. Her command was clear. It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order, one I knew all too well.Behind me, Marlo, Mortis, Emilio, and Anabelle froze in place. They were waiting for me to react, for me to do something—anything.Marlo shifted, his grip tightening on his weapon. Ashley didn’t waver. She kept her gun aimed directly at me, her stance unwavering. "I said drop them," she repeated, a little firmer this time.There was a moment of hesitation from Marlo, then he snapped. His voice was clipped and sharp. “You don’t get to make demands. You’re outnumbered. We can take you down, and we will.”Ashley’s lips curled into a small smile, but it wasn’t one of humor. It was something darker. "Outnumbered? Perhaps. B