Viewer Discretion: This chapter might contain violent acts that may be sensitive to some readers.******Fernando’s POVAs we moved toward the house, the woman began to struggle in Marlo’s grip. Her tears fell down her face, and her breath came in ragged gasps. I ignored her. My focus was on the house itself, the warm lights still glowing, the cozy furniture inside, the scent of home-cooked food lingering in the air.James Holloway thought he could raid our warehouse, put a bullet in my men, and then come home to his nice suburban life like nothing happened.He was about to learn otherwise.I nodded toward the door. "Open it."Vince pressed the woman against the wall while Marlo and Rigo moved quickly, checking for security systems. Rigo pulled out a small jammer, a little device that blocked alarms and wireless signals. The FBI had good systems, but I had better men.The lock clicked. Marlo eased the door open, his gun ready. The house was just as it had looked from outside—wa
Viewer Discretion: This chapter might contain violent acts that may be sensitive to some readers.Fernando’s POVThe sound of her whimpering filled the room, a pathetic noise that clawed at my patience. I clenched my jaw, watching as Holloway’s wife trembled, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. Blood poured from the wounds in her shoulder and leg, soaking her dress, falling on the wooden floor beneath her chair.She was in pain.Good.I exhaled sharply, tilting my head, watching her with cold disinterest. "Would you shut the fuck up already?" I snapped, my voice sharp.She flinched, biting her lip to stop another whimper, her whole body trembling.Holloway’s eyes blazed with fury as he turned his gaze on me. "She’s in pain!" he spat, his voice thick with rage and desperation. "She’s scared!"I arched an eyebrow. "And? That’s not my problem. My problem is you not answering my damn question." I took a step forward, pressing the barrel of my gun against her temple again, watc
Viewer Discretion: This chapter might contain violent acts that may be sensitive to some readers.Michael’s POVA dull, throbbing pain vibrated through my skull, dragging me out of my sleep which I could feel was very long. I groaned, shifting slightly, but even that small movement sent a sharp ache slicing through my temples.Thus pain in my head was relentless and almost unbearable but I could live with it. I've been through worse.As my eyes weakly registered my surroundings, a question built up in my mind.What the hell happened?I blinked, forcing my heavy eyelids to stay open, and stared up at the ceiling. The room was dim, the morning light entering through the gaps in the curtains, casting long shadows over the walls. For some reason, my body felt sluggish, like I had been sedated.And then it hit me.Anabelle.That conniving little—I inhaled sharply, pushing myself up on the bed despite the dizziness that threatened to pull me back down. Memories from last night flooded
Michael’s POVThe sound of running water filled the room.I stood frozen, gripping Fernando’s gun so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My heartbeat was loud in my ears, matching the steady sound of the water falling down in the bathroom.He was in there, unaware, unguarded.It would be so easy.My mind replayed what he told me about last night—the casual way Fernando had admitted to killing Holloway and his wife, the lack of remorse in his voice, the satisfaction in his smirk. He didn’t care. Two people were dead, and all he had to show for it was an amused look and a lazy stretch.How many more would die?How many more would suffer under his hand?I wasn’t naïve. I knew what kind of man he was. I had known from the beginning. But standing here now, holding his gun, I realized something I had been delaying for too long.He would never stop.The only way to end this… was to stop him myself.I took a slow, deliberate step toward the bathroom door. My fingers went around the hand
Fernando’s POV The hot water went down my body in soft, rolling waves, washing away the last traces of last night’s work. My muscles were relaxed, but my mind was still filled with events of last night, reliving the moment when Holloway’s blood had poured on the walls of his cozy little home. The way his wife's screams had turned into ragged gasps before Marlo finished her off. It had been a masterpiece of destruction.One down. Four to go.I still had a lot of work to do to make those agents suffer.They will all feel my wrath. A slow smirk curled my lips as I shut off the water, the silence of the bathroom suddenly feeling too loud. I reached for the towel and wrapped it loosely around my waist, letting the steam cling to my skin as I stepped toward the door.And then I heard it.Raised voices. Sharp, heated words cutting through the air like knives.I tilted my head, recognizing the two voices immediately. Michael and Anabelle.A spark of amusement built inside me as I pushe
Michael’s POVI took a deep breath as I stepped out of the bathroom, my skin still wet, my hair dripping onto the towel I had wrapped around my waist. The heat of the bath had eased the knots in my muscles, and for the first time in hours, I felt clean.I sighed, letting the silence settle over me. It was rare to have a moment like this in his house—a moment where the walls weren’t pressing in, where the air wasn’t suffocating with tension. My feet pressed against the cool floor as I walked toward the wardrobe, dreading the idea of staying here longer than necessary.Then I noticed it.The chair where he had been sitting was empty. The lingering presence of Fernando had vanished.That murderer was gone.I exhaled, releasing a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My shoulders dropped in relief. It was exhausting being around him, suffocating even, like being trapped in a room with a wild animal, one that could decide at any second whether to let you live or rip out your thro
Fernando’s POVThe car was silent except for the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of tires rolling smoothly against the pavement. I leaned back against the seat, stretching out my legs with ease, my gaze flickering toward the man beside me.Michael sat stiffly, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. His expression was one of pure frustration, something that only made me more amused.He hadn’t wanted me to come. That much was clear. But I had insisted—no, I had decided. And Michael had no choice but to deal with it.Even if Michael didn’t want it.I could feel the weight of his irritation pressing against me like a suffocating heat. He was waiting, biting his tongue, trying to keep himself from saying something that would make this worse for him.Eventually, he cracked.Michael let out a long sigh, shifting in his seat before turning his body slightly toward me.“Alright,” he said. “I need to know something.”I smirked. “Only one thing?”Michael rolled his eyes but didn’t take
Michael’s POVI hated that Fernando was here.I sighed, gripping the torn half of my shopping list as I walked further into the aisles, away from him. I needed space. Distance. Anything to remind myself that, for at least a little while, I wasn’t under his suffocating gaze.Because right now, I was doing something ridiculous.I was making a ruthless mafia boss—someone whose favorite time involved killing people who annoyed him—go grocery shopping.I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.If his men found out, they’d probably never let him live this down.I imagined it now: Fernando, dressed in his perfectly tailored suit, standing in an aisle filled with cereal boxes and snack foods, looking like he belonged in a luxury penthouse instead of a grocery store.If he really stopped to think about what he was doing, would he get offended? Would he be angry enough to kill me for this?Wouldn’t be the first time he got murderous over something stupid.I shook my head. I don’t car
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