Michael’s POVThe day was coming to an end and I could feel things were about to happen that would change the course of my undercover mission. Darkness had settled outside the windows, casting long shadows across the room. The dim light from the bedside lamp barely brightened up the room, leaving most of it filled in some darkness.I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my body heavy but my mind racing.He’s going to do it.Fernando was going to murder FBI agents.Fernando had made it clear—he was going after those agents tonight. Those men probably had no idea they were already marked for death. They had no idea that the devil himself had set his sights on them.This was one thing I had never expected to enter Fernando’s demented mind, despite his irrational behaviour. I exhaled slowly, shifting under the sheets. My shoulder ached, the now small pain moving through my body with every movement I made, even though it was just tossing on the bed.The bandages wrapped around my w
Viewer Discretion: This chapter might contain violent acts that may be sensitive to some readers.******Fernando’s POVThe car was silent except for the faint hum of the engine. Outside, the suburban neighborhood was quiet, the kind of place where people felt safe enough to leave their doors unlocked and let their kids play in the front yard. I sat in the driver's seat, my fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel as I watched the house through the windshield. Inside, one of the agents on my hit list—James Holloway—sat at the dining table with his wife and two kids, a boy and a girl. The lights in the house were bright, the warm glow spilling onto the neatly trimmed lawn through the large window.Holloway laughed at something his wife said, cutting a piece of meat from his plate. The kids laughed over their own plates, their faces lit up with happiness. It was a picture-perfect family moment—one that should’ve meant nothing to me.And yet, as I watched them, a strange fe
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
Ashley’s POVI wasn’t just angry — I was livid. My eyes were locked on Andrew, and every word he said just seemed to make me angrier."You have no idea what the hell you're talking about!" I snapped, my voice slicing through the thick silence that had descended in the room.“Ashley—” The Chief began, his voice firm but controlled, trying to get me to calm down. But I wasn’t about to back down. Not this time.“No, Chief,” I interrupted, standing abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.“She’s too close to the target,” Andrew said, speaking as though I wasn’t even in the room. His voice was annoyingly calm, like he was stating facts that everyone should just accept. “And it’s affecting her performance. We’ve all seen the signs, Chief. Mood swings, irrational decisions, an inability to separate personal feelings from professional duties. It’s compromising the mission. And it’s been going on for too long.”“You’re out of your damn mind,” I spat, barely able to contain the r
Ashley’s POVIt was another cold morning. The sun had not even properly broken through the clouds, and yet the city was already buzzing. I could hear the distant sounds of sirens mixing into the horns of impatient drivers as I stepped out of my apartment. The world moved on. People went to work. Coffee shops opened their doors. Life moved forward, except mine — mine was stuck, still in a past I couldn’t let go of.Michael.His name was a constant echo in my head. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I told myself to move on, I couldn’t. He was constantly in every corner of my mind, and with every sunrise, I missed him more.The FBI headquarters loomed ahead, a building of glass and steel that once felt like home. Now, it felt cold and lifeless. Like every pair of eyes that turned in my direction carried judgment. I could see it in the way they spoke in hushed whispers, the way conversations stopped when I passed by. I was the girl still hung up on the traitor.M
Michael’s POVThe soft hum of the microwave was oddly comforting in the otherwise tense silence of the kitchen. The scent of warmed-up soup filled the air, and for a fleeting moment, it smelled almost like home. Or what home might have been, in some better, less screwed-up lifetime.I ran a hand through my hair, leaning against the counter as I watched the seconds tick down on the digital display. In no time, Fernando’s food would be ready soon, and for once and I wasn’t just doing it to keep up appearances. I wanted him to wake up. I needed him to. Everything was starting to fall apart around me — and the one person who could have untangled this mess was lying unconscious in a bedroom upstairs.Across the room, Mortis and Emilio were hunched over their plates, their laughter quiet but strained, as though neither of them truly wanted to laugh. Anabelle was standing at the sink, scrubbing a plate so hard I was half-convinced she was imagining it was my face.I wouldn't be surprise
Marlo’s POVThe kitchen had always been my favorite room in the house — not because I enjoyed cooking, far from it — but because it was the one place I could find temporary peace from the exhausting madness swirling around this godforsaken mansion. And also was surprisingly a great place for spontaneous sex, if you know what I mean. The dim lighting, the sharp scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air, and the low hum of the refrigerator was about the closest thing to calm I could get nowadays.Anabelle sat by the counter, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, her expression distant as if her thoughts were elsewhere. Mortis stood by the window, his massive frame leaning against the sill, silently watching the mansion grounds beyond the glass. None of us spoke, each lost in our own worlds, the silence stopped only by the occasional clink of Anabelle’s spoon against her mug.It wasn’t peace exactly. It was an uneasy truce, and I knew it wouldn’t last long.Then
Michael’s POVI don’t know what it was about today, but everything around me felt heavier, like the walls of this damned house had grown teeth and eyes, watching my every move, ready to swallow me whole. I had taken refuge in my room — the only space in this godforsaken mansion that still felt like mine.The sheets were freshly laid; the scent of lavender clung stubbornly to the fabric like a memory I couldn’t place. I threw another magazine into the growing pile of papers by the window and began straightening out the books on my desk. Cleaning was never something I bothered with before, but lately… it was the one thing that gave me a sense of control.I folded a shirt, placed it in the wardrobe, smoothed out a wrinkle on the duvet, and sat on the bed, admiring the small victory. My space was finally in order. Maybe if the outside world was falling apart, at least in here I could pretend things were normal.Just then, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.Damian.I hesitated for a m
Marlo’s POVThe cold press of the gun’s muzzle against the back of my head was sharp, a chilling sensation that spread like ice down my spine. Every instinct I had screamed at me to turn around, to fight, but I knew better. I had been in this game too long not to recognize when a man had the upper hand. And right now, that man was Damian.“Easy there,” I muttered, my voice low and steady, hiding the boiling fury inside me. “No need for this kind of dramatics, Damian.”“Thought you were slick, huh?” he murmured from behind me, his voice calm, almost amused.I exhaled through my nose, clenching my jaw. “Listen, I don’t give a damn about whatever con you’re running with Michael. He’s not my concern. But what are you pulling behind our backs?"Damian chuckled softly, the sound sinister in the dead of night. “And what makes you think you’ve earned the right to ask questions, Marlo?”“Maybe the part where you just put a gun to my head on a public street,” I shot back. “That’s usually a
Marlo’s POVThe room was thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and musk. Anabelle lay against me, her skin warm, slick, her hair pulled out on the pillow like a dark halo. I claimed her lips once again as I plunged in deeper into her, listening to the huge gasp that escaped her lips in that moment.She took her fingers down to her vagina and gently began to massage herself, her legs slightly shaking beneath me."I can feel all your dick inside me, and it feels sooo good" she said as the movement of her fingers intensified and I could tell she would soon cum.I dragged her finger out then turned her around, her stomach on the bed, her ass raised to receive every inch of me."Not yet love" I used my dick to gently play with her pink hole, watching as it's wetness slowly dripped down her legs. "Take me Daddy.""As you wish."With a mighty force, I pushed my cock into her then increased the velocity of each strike, not leaving her enough time to gather her breath.After the evening I had
Michael's POV I walked past Marlo without a word, my heart pounding in my chest. The air between us felt thick, suffocating, like storm clouds gathering right above my head. The headlights from Damian’s car illuminated the driveway, and the night’s cool breeze did nothing to ease the heat prickling beneath my skin.But just as I reached the steps leading up to the front door, a hand shot out and gripped my wrist, pulling me back with a force that made me stumble. I turned sharply, startled to see Marlo’s face twisted in anger, his eyes dark and venomous under the porch light.“Where the fuck do you think you’re going, huh?” Marlo hissed, his grip tightening around my wrist.“Let go of me,” I snapped, trying to pull free, but he only held my wrist harder.“You little slut,” he spat. “I knew it. The second Fernando isn’t around to keep you on a leash, you’re out here whoring yourself to the first man who flashes you a damn smile.”The words hit like a slap, raw and cold. For a seco
Michael’s POV The cool night air brushed against my skin as Damian and I stepped out of the cinema. I inhaled deeply, stretching my arms as we made our way toward his car. “Well,” I said, breaking the silence, “I’ll admit it — that wasn’t half-bad.”Damian chuckled beside me, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Not half-bad?” He arched a brow, grinning. “Come on, Michael, you were on the edge of your seat. I saw you flinch at that last jump scare.”I scoffed. “Please. That was a reflex.”He laughed outright at that.“Yeah, yeah. I’ll pretend to believe that.”In the few days since Damian had helped me out by the side of that dirt road, our lives had somehow tangled together.As we reached his car, Damian slowed down. I glanced at him, catching the sudden seriousness in his expression.“Michael,” he began, leaning against the side of his car, his gaze meeting mine. “I need to say something.”I felt a warning feeling in my chest, but I forced a grin.“I don’t