Broken concrete slabs and leaves crackle under our feet. Leafy-green weeds line from the ceiling to the floor. The living room of the deserted building looks like a werewolf crawled its way through it. Bullet holes trim the pillows on the mangled couch. The lack of light causes the pigment of the building to turn muted, dark, and soulless. Chills cascade down my back when an abrupt noise shatters the quiet.

My breathing halts, holding the burst of air to keep from being caught. Craning my neck slowly, I warily observe every perimeter in the room before following the leader. As a group, we re-evaluated for Gato to conduct the charge with his freshly repaired arm. Behind him is Limon, Pacho, Mateo, and lastly myself. Julian and Santiago guard the exits with their earpieces to communicate with us.

Diaz thought he was achieving something by purchasing a large order of narcotics from us to resell for double. The only thing he's getting is a brutal attack from my crew as I collect our remaining goods. My capos collectively agreed to give me the simplest task in order to prevent last time results. However, choosing a member to protect me was like searching in a haystack.

Sadly, the loser of rock, paper, and scissors was Gato.

So, I had an abundance of doubts about trusting my fate in his grimy, revengeful hands.

The Diaz familia maintains their organization in a deserted house on the outskirts of the city. It might've been challenging to find if I didn't have a branch of exclusive spies. On Wednesdays, usually, only Marc, Raul, and Iker stay overnight to maximize the shipments of our products. Unless they know about our ambush, we're in for an easy treat, and I could run into Mika's arms.

Being with my girl is the only thing keeping me from collapsing on the floor.

When panic erupts in my veins, I paint the image of Mika in my brain and subconsciously smell a wave of strawberries. I'm not sure if this tactic will work once the war breaks, but I have to try. There's no way in hell I'm going to die tonight and say goodbye to Mika before even standing a chance.

We squat, keeping our bodies camouflaged against the items in the hall as the voices grow stronger, louder, and vibrant. Gato pulls his pistol out first, and the rest follow his lead while I leave mine untouched. Taking a life changes people, and I'd gone through enough changes to last a lifetime. Boxes grind on the floor as if someone was pushing them to the other side with a loud, struggle groan.

Iker's black mohawk is tall enough to view while squatting behind the boxes, and Marc's oval face is coated in shaving cream. They appear clueless about the havoc dallying over their heads. Raul strolls in with huge white-like powder packages resting on his shoulders. A residue of the powder loiters under his nose before he cleans it with his sleeve.

My chances of surviving are getting better and better.

As Mateo shifts onto his knees, he accidentally knocks a box onto the ground. Time stops as I watch the box fumble on the floor before landing on its side. My pulse explodes, pounding in my ears as I cover my mouth to muffle my shaky breaths. Gato whips his head around and signals for us to remain silent.

"Qué carajo fue eso?" Marc asks with a midway-shaven face.

(What the fuck was that?)

Raul's dark, intense red-frame eyes dart into the darkness, his body alert in the mystery hidden in the hall. "Cuándo fue la última vez que hablaste con Kevin?"

(When was the last time you talked to Kevin?)

"He went to make sure the house is all clear," Iker responds, his voice bored, unintimated.

A screech rings penetrating my ears instantly, causing my hands to jolt upward, forcing pressure onto them. My teeth bare against my lips, almost slicing them apart to reveal blood. My eyes are forced shut, but I feel Mateo's body collapse on mine, alerting a domino effect of fallen boxes. The sound goes mute, replaced with frantic breathing.

"They know we're here," Julian admits. The earpiece screeches as communication seizes to exist.

My stomach sinks into a never-ending ocean, and I stay huddled in a ball while the others maneuver to their legs. My body is at a standstill, watching as Gato penetrates the air with his rifle. Bullets fly left and right, missing the targets in front of us. My ears ring as ammo blazes in our direction.

Mateo grabs onto my arm, hauling me to my legs, and to the final row of standing boxes. The barrier isn't anything special and won't be much protection. It's just enough for Mateo to land a bullet straight into Iker's skull, his body going limp. Blood enters my vision, evoking the panic I've been trying to consume. My body freezes, knees buckling as my breath comes out in pants.

Pain circuits through my body as Mateo bangs my body against the wall and slaps the shit out of my face. "Snap out of it, Asiel. You can't fucking do this now. Believe it or not, we need you."

His idea is abrupt, but it's enough to shrug the shadowy blankets of hell from my shoulders. Mateo cranes his attention towards the enemy, his vein bulging from the force on his gun. There's no time to fuck up. This is my chance to repay my warriors for staying by my side at my lowest points.

Squatting down, I unbuckle the seal holding my pistol and pull back the slide. My intention isn't to murder anyone. I can't survive the demons that come along with a dead, lifeless body, but I have to assure my safety. If my life relies on it, I'll have no other option. But if I'm given a choice, I rather use the combos, Mika taught me.

Raging off adrenaline, I sprint through the line of fire and barrel into an enemy. The person we came for, Marc, drops to the floor with a -bang-. My gaze floats around, taking note of the perimeter, where Gato guards, shocking the enemies with bullets before they could react.

Gato darkly chuckles. "Buen trabajo, primito. Finalmente, convirtiendose en un hombre y luchando. Haz sufrir a ese cabrón."

(Good job, little cousin. Finally becoming a man and fighting back. Make that cabron suffer.)

Limon and Pacho drag a gloss-over Raul, his mouth leaking with blood, and flings him on top of Marc. A mobile Marc loudly groans, pushing his cousin off his beaten body. For a minute, it's like I'm standing in a force field, the bullets soaring freely through the air and missing me. The sight comes crashing down in seconds.

Marc uses this pivotal moment to tackle me, and my body makes contact with the concrete. My hand is empty, patting the floor around me for my pistol. It's fucking gone. His blood-stained teeth flash an eerie smile before slamming his knuckles into my jaw. Left swing, right swing, left swing. My body fails to react, taking the vigorous force of his punch. He doesn't let up.

The pain mixes with adrenaline, and I protect my face by creating a barrier with my arms. Regardless, the damage is done. A metallic taste enters my mouth as my tongue slithers over my lips. Marc is fueled by anger, unleashing punch after punch after punch at my shattering border.

If I don't do something to knock him off his game, he's going to finish me off. My mind is blanking, foregoing any lessons my Sensi taught me. However, the remembrance of Mika fuels my veins with determination. When he reclines his left swing back, I thrust my head heavenward and smash our foreheads together.

"Motherfucker!" Marc curses, clutching onto his throbbing head as he takes shelter on the ground.

Stumbling forward, I grip my stomach and bump into a pile of bodies. Bullet holes are tattooed on their skin. A never-ending mark. The Morterero name will linger in the cloudy mist with death, following close behind. This is the first of many wars under my reign. After this, people will tremble when we stride into a room.

Aroma of blood, corpses, and determination infuses the air with a burning urge. My nose aches, scrunching against the potent scents. Nothing compared to the sweetness of strawberries fresh out from the fields. Marc whimpers, bringing a sinister grin to Gato's lips, and he drops his rifle with a -thud-.

In one full swoop, Gato has Marc screaming and yanks his arm behind his back, binding them. Marc's head hangs low, breaths ragged and shallow as cracks from his arms pierce the room. Gato is soaring with happiness, flinging his body around as if it weighed ten pounds. Marc weeps but doesn't fight.

Never in a million years did I think he would do down without a fight.

Gato spits at the back of Marc's head. "Acaba con él, Asiel. Robó, distribuyó y utilizó nuestros productos de forma gratuita. Mátalo. Muéstrale al mundo por qué no deben meterse con Asiel Morterero."

(Finish him off, Asiel. He stole, distributed, and used our products for free. Kill him. Show the world why they shouldn't mess with Asiel Morterero.)

My pulse matches the exhilarating rate coming from Marc's chest. Slowly stepping closer, there's a glint in Gato's irises as if he's saying I won't be able to do it. Marc rotates his jaw, tears leaking from his eyes when they meet mine. We're enemies. He's stolen from my familia. He deserves to repay his dues.

But he's a son, a brother, a lover, a father.

God chooses when it's time for us to leave this world and join him in heaven.

I shouldn't have any part in bringing him there.

I don't want to.

Mateo squeezes my shoulders. "You got this. Just fuck him up. We will finish him."

"Fuck that!" Gato seethes. "Mátalo ahora mismo, Asiel, o te dispararé una bala en el cráneo."

(Kill him right now, Asiel, or I'll shoot a bullet in your skull.)

"Gato." Mateo's lips curve to a crooked frown. "You can't threaten our Jefe."

"Puede que sea tu Jefe, pero no es el mio. Si quiere mi respeto, golpeara a este hijo de puta," Gato barks, his face burning red like cherry tomatoes.

(He may be your boss, but he's not mine. If he wants my respect, he'll beat this son of a bitch.)

Gato and Mateo shoot insults, throbbing my brain as their shouting grows clamorous. I'm so fucking conflicted. My fist clenches, hoisting it back as I contemplate beating the shit out of my enemy. As my closest cousin, Mateo is standing up for me, but at what cost? Gato hated me the minute I stepped into this position, but winning his respect will cause the others to follow.

What matters to me more?

My dignity or my humanity?

Easy.

My fist unclenches.

Always, my connection with God and the human race takes the cake. We might not be on the same side, but I cannot take a human life. Gato heavily sighs, unphased by my response as fright coats my skin like sweat. I retreat, taking a few steps back, and Marc heaves a sigh of relief.

"Always have to do shit myself," Gato mutters, rolling his eyes as he lets Marc go.

Marc hunches forward, regaining mobility of his limbs until Gato aligns for an uppercut, bashing him in the face and sending him flying to his back. There's no remorse in Gato's fury-filled eyes. Unleashing the wild predator, he jumps on Marc and throws blow after blow until lights go out in his eyes.

Holding my breath, I peak over Gato's shoulder to see Marc's chest rising up and down. Mateo shrugs his shoulders, kicking the coma patient in the stomach. Turning on my foot, I whisper a prayer to my Lord as the rifle goes off. It's not only one bullet. Gato isn't that sympathetic. He fires until his rifle unloads.

Even asleep, he wants Marc to feel the pain of death.

Limon, Pacho, Gato, and Mateo clear out the bodies, forming one single pile for them. We agreed on how I should stack our products into my truck. It is my ticket out of there. Corpses are going to appear in my dreams for days to come unless I can find something more magical. Like my beautiful, captivating Mika.

I couldn't wait to reunite with her again. Hold her in my arms until the sun comes up and reality pulls us away from each other. Any thought of resistance is demolished into pure adoration for this one girl. Maybe Mateo was right. Feelings are dangerous. There's no question if Mika asked me to jump. I'll respond with how high.

My shoulder is being crushed by the box as I weave my way through the gory-stained hallways. The eeriness of the living room is all gone since our enemies are dead. On the right side is a stock mansion-sized library fill to the brim with books. While the left has a circular staircase, spiraling to the second-floor balcony. A lounge with pillows, chairs, and tables is the only thing visible from the shadows in the room.

My blood goes cold.

A weary smile stretches across his bloody lip. "I'll be glad to put an end to the Morterero name. The leader is a pussy. I'll be doing them a favor."

My entire world slows down, my body anticipating the next move until my pistol comes into view. There's a flash in his glare just a second before he clinks back the slide. Death is a bullet away, calling my name, whispering about the debts I'll owe. In a blink of an eye, my luck vanishes into the unknown as I surrender to my death.

If I'm going down, the least I can do is fight.

Adrenaline charges my movement, but I have no time to construct a full-proof plan. His finger twitches on the trigger, a reminder that my life is in his hands. Without wasting another breath, I thrust the box of narcotics at him. It slams into his face, causing his palms to open, releasing the pistol.

When the gun hits the floor, the force causes it to go off.

It misses both of us.

Leaping forward, I'm an inch away from retreating the gun until Raul tackles me and drills me with a gunfire of punches. Several hit their target, my head, and face before I throw my arms up to block. The ambush gives him the upper hand as he quickly gets up and kicks me in the mouth.

My face pinches with pain.

It knocks me to another dimension.

White splotches fill my vision, blurry, and barely able to make out. My head is spinning like in those cartoons when the character has been smacked. Using my elbows, I force myself up and peek up at the emptiness of the balcony. Before I could move a muscle, a cold, metal barrel is against my head.

My teeth gnaw at my bottom lips, pressing my head into the barrel.

I can't fight anymore.

I'm going to die.

My eyes widen at the abrupt sound.

The fire of a single bullet causes Raul's body to go limp.

Darting warily around, I settle on the petite silhouette on the balcony. It's almost unnoticeable. The silhouette relaxes its arms on the balcony railing before vanishing into the dusk. My eyebrows pinch with confusion. Am I seeing things? I had to be. I've probably received a concussion from all the punches I took.

But it looked so real.

Was it real?

Did God send a guardian angel to save me?

Ahhh what a chapter!! I hope my action scenes are entertaining lol they're honestly one of the hardest chapters to write since it's alot of fast paced action... maybe this is my sign to read more action books...

How do you guys feel? Are you happy Asiel stay true to himself and didn't hurt Marc?

Or fuck Marc because he's an enemy?

Also, ugh Gato! Should've just punched him instead honestly lol🤪🤪

Thank you guys for reading this chapter and I can't wait to read all your comments!! I'm so grateful for all you guys and I can't wait for more and more pieces of the story to be revealed...

😌😉

Love ya.