Cynthia did not answer immediately.Antonio could hear faint movement on her end—the rustle of fabric, perhaps her pacing across the living room floor. When she finally spoke, her voice was steadier than before.“Where?” she asked.“My place isn’t safe,” Antonio replied without hesitation. “And your house may be monitored.”There was a slight pause. “You think it’s that serious?”“I don’t think,” Antonio said quietly. “I know.”He ended the call after agreeing on a neutral location—a small art gallery downtown that had closed for renovation months ago. It was owned by a quiet investor Antonio had once helped during a licensing crisis. The place had cameras, but more importantly, Antonio controlled the feed.Tina watched him as he slipped the phone back into his pocket.“You’re meeting her,” she stated, not a question.“Yes.”Tina’s lips pressed together briefly. “You trust her that quickly?”Antonio looked ahead, his expression composed. “I trust patterns. The voice admitted the image

Antonio remained quiet, his fingers drumming lightly against the polished mahogany desk. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t comment, didn’t even blink too often. Tina could see the storm brewing behind his eyes—the hesitation, the pain, and the lingering attachment he still had for Cynthia. Every subtle movement, the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes darted momentarily toward the city skyline outside, spoke volumes. It wasn’t disinterest; it was contemplation, a mind struggling to reconcile the past with the future, weighing loyalty against pragmatism. Tina watched him closely, her posture calm but deliberate, radiating patience and quiet authority. She had known Antonio long enough to understand the subtle nuances of his silence. She understood that when he didn’t respond immediately, it was not defiance but the slow, meticulous processing of information. Each pause, each delayed reaction, revealed the depth of his internal debate. Tina leaned back slightly, giving him the spa

Antonio’s eyes flicked toward the dimly lit windows as the headlights outside painted long streaks across the concrete floor. Tina stepped out of the car, her posture deliberate, composed, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of apprehension. She had never seen Antonio so calculated, so controlled—like a predator surveying a room full of potential threats.The executor shifted slightly, noting the arrival, but Antonio didn’t flinch.“Tina,” he said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of authority, “you shouldn’t have come here. This isn’t a social call.”Tina took a step closer, but not too close. “I know,” she replied, her tone measured. “But I have information that will help you, Antonio. The moment you told me you wouldn’t activate the reset, I knew it. I knew the executor wouldn’t leave it at that. They have contingency plans. And they’ve been moving pieces we haven’t even seen yet.”Antonio’s gaze shifted between Tina and the executor. “Contingency plans?” he asked. “What else hav

That morning, Tina was already seated in her car, the engine humming softly beneath her as the early sunlight filtered across the windshield. The compound gate stood half-open, waiting for her to drive out, but she did not move. Instead, she leaned back into the leather seat, her posture relaxed yet taut, her fingers tightening slightly around the steering wheel. The soft warmth of the morning light did little to soothe the tension coiling in her chest. She was calm, measured, but every muscle in her body hummed with anticipation. Today, everything would change.There was one last thing to do before she could leave, one final action that would ensure her plan moved from calculated chaos to execution. She reached for her phone with deliberate slowness, letting the slight vibration of it against the seat remind her that there were forces in motion, each waiting for a signal. Her thumb hovered for a heartbeat over the contact she had memorized months ago, a name that had become synonymou

Vanessa took a deep breath, her voice low but hurried as she began to relay every detail she had overheard. “Cynthia… she said it very clearly. Tina was on the phone with someone. I couldn’t hear the other side too well, but Tina told them that Antonio Morris had to be eliminated today. She said she wanted him gone before the end of the day, and that she had already arranged people to do it. She mentioned being confident that the plan would succeed and… and that no one should interfere.”Cynthia’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening as shock coursed through her body. The words felt like icy water, washing over her, leaving her frozen in place. She struggled to breathe for a moment, as though the sound of Tina’s name itself carried a tangible weight, pressing down on her chest. “What? This… this can’t be real! Are you telling me that that woman… she’s planning to kill Antonio? Are you serious, Vanessa?” Her voice wavered between disbelief and fear, rising slightly as the urgency