Maria shifted her eyes to him, her gaze cold and calculating as it swept over Ghost's bloodied face. The concrete floor beneath him was stained dark where he'd been kneeling for the past twenty minutes, his wrists bound behind his back with industrial zip ties that cut into his skin."If he doesn't answer before the count of 5, shoot him!" she instructed."Yes boss!" Mark sounded, stepping forward with the kind of enthusiasm that made Ghost's stomach turn.Mark pressed the cold barrel of the pistol against Ghost's temple, the metal kissing his skin with an intimacy that made his blood run cold. He pulled off the safety with a deliberate click that seemed to reverberate through Ghost's skull, then danced his finger around the trigger, tapping it rhythmically as if keeping time to a song only he could hear.Ghost swallowed hard, the movement painful against his dry throat. He hadn't had water in hours.One mistake, he knew it, he was done, dead as though he never lived. All the years of

“Faster, boss!”“Run! Run! Run!” Mark shouted, his voice trembling with urgency as his hands wrapped firmly around Maria’s shoulder, guiding her forward through the dense, uneven jungle path.His feet pounded the earth faster, pushing her along, helping her match his pace. Sweat trickled down his temple as branches whipped across their faces.Maria glanced back and gasped. Her breathing grew frantic as her eyes caught the glare of headlights slicing through the fog. “They’re coming!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “They’re right behind us!”Mark didn’t look back. “Don’t stop!” he barked, tightening his grip.Behind them, the rumble of an off-road vehicle grew louder, bouncing violently over the uneven terrain. The men chasing them were close enough for Maria to see their silhouettes as they began to cross the narrow bridge.“They’re crossing!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the night.“Faster, boss!” Mark urged again, his tone filled with desperation.They sprinted, feet sl

Maria stepped forward, her boots sinking slightly into the soft dirt. Her face burned with a deep frown, her breathing low and steady like a jaguar stalking its prey before the silent slaughter. Every movement she made was deliberate, confident, and dangerous.She had heard every insult. The cowboy leader calling her a prostitute. The way he laughed as though she were something beneath him, an object to interrogate. But Maria was not one to bow her head to cruelty. Not after everything she had survived.She walked toward him slowly, her eyes fixed on his with the steadiness of a blade about to strike. The men around him watched, their laughter fading as she came closer. For a brief second, it was as if the entire world had gone quiet. Only the soft hum of the wind and the faint clinking of spurs broke the silence.“If I tell you what you want,” she said firmly, her voice calm but sharp enough to slice through the tension, “what assurance do I have that you would let us go, considering

Maria settled into the boardroom like everyone else in the room, her posture straight but her mind alert. The faint hum of the central air system and the low murmur of voices filled the long, glossy table.The chair at the far edge of the table remained empty, a silent symbol of power. Lucas Virellis had not arrived yet. Everyone knew what that meant.Maria did too. As the widow of Adrian Virellis, she had seen enough of these meetings to understand their rhythm. The chairman, who was also the president of the Virelliong Group, never entered the room until every board member was seated and silent. It was not arrogance. It was control.According to company policy, no one could even enter the boardroom without fulfilling specific requirements. Documents had to be verified, share certificates presented, and holdings cross-checked. One hour ago, Maria had prepared all of that. She was not new to corporate games. Only a novice would fail to anticipate what was expected, and Maria was no nov