© All Rights Reserved

The warehouse ahead stood like a hulking monolith, its windows dark and unwelcoming, the perfect setting for the cartel deal that was about to go down. Kane, his sharp eyes scanning the scene in front of him, was the picture of focus. His jaw was clenched, his brow furrowed in concentration as he spoke, his voice low but steady. “The buyer’s supposed to meet us inside the loading bay,” he muttered, his fingers drumming on the wheel. “We make the exchange clean—no surprises. We get in, we get out. Fast and quiet.”

Her lips curved into a smirk as she capped the lipstick and set it aside, her fingers now tracing the outline of her handgun. She checked the magazine, feeling the weight of the weapon in her hand, the smooth slide as it clicked into place a small but reassuring sound in the quiet of the car.

Kane finally tore his gaze from the warehouse and glanced at her, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of respect, maybe even trust. “We don’t improvise unless we have to.”

Angel’s lips twitched into a small, wry smile. “When have we ever followed the plan?”

© All Rights Reserved

© All Rights Reserved

© All Rights Reserved

© All Rights Reserved