The wind howled through the dense thicket, rustling the overgrown shrubs that concealed the entrance to Jett’s hideout. He moved swiftly through the darkness, his breath steady despite the chaos raging inside his mind. The meeting had gone south. He had signed a deal with the Crocs—one he had no choice but to accept. They had set him free after his capture, but at a cost. Now, he was bound to a contract that turned his skills against the very people he once sought to protect. He had never been a saint, but at least he had wielded his knowledge on his own terms. Now, his will was no longer his own.He reached the mouth of the cave, crouching behind a thick trunk, scanning the surroundings. He never entered without ensuring he wasn’t followed. The Crocs had him in their grip, and he knew better than to underestimate their reach. The cave was well hidden, deep in the forest where few dared to venture. Wild vines snaked over its rocky exterior, masking the entrance like nature’s own fortr

Walker sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly into the dimly lit room. His mind was a storm, a never-ending swirl of worries and unresolved thoughts. Elizabeth stirred beside him, her eyes fluttering open as she instinctively checked on their baby, Seth. Once satisfied that he was sleeping soundly, she rolled over, expecting to find her husband asleep. Instead, she saw his tense posture, his shoulders hunched forward as if carrying an unbearable weight.She wiped her face with her palm, clearing her vision as she glanced at the bedside clock. It was exactly 2 a.m. The eerie silence of the night made his soft murmuring more apparent. Walker’s lips moved, but his words were incomprehensible. Elizabeth sat up, concern tightening her chest. She reached out and touched his shoulder. Walker flinched slightly, his body jolting as if pulled from the depths of his thoughts."Baby, why aren’t you sleeping? You look troubled," she whispered, moving closer and wrapping her arms around him. H

Tiny flickers of light danced before his eyes. His vision blurred, unfocused. He groanved, trying to move, but his body felt weighted, sluggish. Panic clawed at his chest as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings."Where... where am I?" His voice cracked, dry as desert air.The sound of hurried footsteps. A soft gasp. Then, warmth—a gentle hand brushing against his cheek. "Walker! Oh my God, you're awake!" A familiar voice. Comforting. Shaky with emotion.He tried to lift his head, but the effort was exhausting. Squinting through the haze, he could barely make out the silhouette of a woman. His heart told him it was Elizabeth, but his mind refused to connect the dots."I’m here," she whispered, her fingers tracing his face as though confirming he was real. "It’s me, Elizabeth."Walker’s breath came out in short puffs. "What happened to me? Why can’t I see properly?" He reached up, his fingers brushing against bandages wrapped tightly around his hands and arms.Elizabeth sque

Elizabeth stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, one eye on her baby monitor and another on her phone screen. Her thumb hovered over the call button. There was only one person she could call right now. Someone who always had an annoying answer but always showed up when it mattered—Svet.She dialed.It rang once.Twice.Nothing.“What?!” she gasped out loud, glaring at her phone like it just cheated in Monopoly. “Svet NEVER ignores my calls. That man picks faster than Google Search!”She stomped to her room, still in her house robe—a faded pink monstrosity with “Best Wife Ever” peeling off the front. Her hair was in a bun so messy it looked like a raccoon had made a nest and abandoned it mid-morning. Inside the room, little Seth, her twelve-month-old heartthrob, was babbling to himself, a plush toy of a yellow duck clutched in one chubby hand.He was mumbling gibberish with a sense of purpose, like he was explaining blockchain to the duck.“Ba ba goo…noo noo waba…”Elizabeth stared

The stripper hit the floor hard, stunned. Her mouth opened to scream—but Jett was faster. He clamped his hand over her lips and shoved her against the wall.“Where is she?” he growled. “The one with the yellow short hair. Lip piercing. Tribal mark. The one who sold me out.”She gasped, struggling under his grip. “I—I don’t know who you mean—”Wrong answer.Jett’s grip tightened around her throat. Her eyes bulged, bloodshot and watering. Her heels scraped against the floor. He leaned in, voice colder than steel.“When you get to hell, tell them I send my regards.”He released her. She collapsed, coughing, trying to breathe—but Jett wasn’t done.He drew the pistol, cold and black, and pressed the barrel to her lips. Slowly. Deliberately.“Talk. Or I blow your teeth through the back of your skull.”Her eyes filled with panic. She coughed, choked, shook her head. “I—I can’t…”He shoved the barrel deeper.“You will.”Finally, she broke.“Anita,” she wheezed. “Her name is Anita.”“Where?”“