As Carlos remained leaned heavily against the cold concrete wall, blood trickling steadily down his face from the crash, staining his shirt and the ground beneath him. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling from shock, exhaustion, and pain. The man with the pistol stood just a few steps away, his finger casually resting on the trigger, but Carlos felt too drained to resist. He closed his eyes, accepting what seemed like an inevitable end.He muttered under his breath, his voice shaky but sincere, praying to God for mercy, hoping that his death would be quick and painless. The faces of his parents, Margaret and Anthony Wilson, flashed in his mind. Regret gnawed at his heart, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes as he silently apologized to them.“I’m sorry, Mom... Dad... I should have been a better son. If there’s another life, I promise... I’ll make things right.”As his words trailed off into the cool night air, the man with the pistol suddenly burst into laughter.

The tension in the Stone residence grew over the next few days as everyone anticipated a possible attack from either Edgar or the unknown woman. But to their surprise, nothing happened. No attacks, no strange incidents — just silence.A few weeks later, on a cold early morning, Carlos found himself strolling down one of the hallways of the Stone residence. His footsteps barely made a sound as he moved across the polished, gleaming tiled floor. The hall was adorned with elegant paintings, each piece of artwork framed in gold and reflecting the wealth of the household. Carlos admired the art as he walked, momentarily lost in thought.Ahead of him, he noticed Senator Harvey walking toward him in the opposite direction. Carlos straightened his posture, preparing to greet the senator with respect. As they passed each other, Carlos gave a courteous nod, his head bowing slightly. "Good morning, sir."The senator returned the greeting, but his cold, disapproving glare was impossible to miss.

As the first light of dawn barely peeked over the horizon, Carlos stepped out of the Stone residence, the cold morning air biting at his skin. He had left Abby behind, as promised, and now stood outside the grand mansion, glancing back one last time at the place that had given him sanctuary. It was strange, thinking that only hours ago, he had been safe inside, surrounded by walls of luxury and protection. Now, he was out in the open, vulnerable, and alone.He pulled his jacket tighter around him and took a deep breath, scanning the quiet, empty street. His mind raced as he set off down the sidewalk, cautious and alert, every sound making him glance over his shoulder. He had to move quickly. He had no idea who might be watching or if anyone had already picked up his trail.The shadows of the early morning seemed to stretch longer as Carlos quickened his pace. His thoughts drifted to Toby, his old friend and the only person who might still be able to help him. Toby had once offered to

The moment was tense, with the air thick and heavy as Carlos and Toby stepped further into the dimly lit warehouse. The flicker of faint light from the high, broken windows did little to dispel the darkness looming around them. Shadows seemed to shift unnaturally in the corners of the vast, cold space. The silence was deafening— too silent.Then, without warning, it all exploded.A sharp creak from behind. The doors slammed shut, echoing through the warehouse like a gunshot. From every dark corner, men emerged, faces masked in the gloom, rushing them in a violent ambush. The first hit came fast— a hard strike to Toby’s ribs that sent him staggering. Carlos spun to defend himself, narrowly dodging a punch aimed for his face, but the numbers were overwhelming. They had no time to think. Bodies slammed into them from all sides, and a flurry of fists, elbows, and knees rained down. Carlos swung wildly, managing to connect with a man’s jaw, but another grabbed him from behind, pinning his

The doorbell rang sharply through Toby’s apartment, cutting through the low hum of the TV in the living room. It was 5 p.m., the following day after the ambush, and Carlos and Toby had spent the better part of the day trying to figure out their next move. But the unexpected sound startled them both, their muscles tensing as they exchanged a glance.Carlos grabbed the remote and shut off the TV, the room instantly plunging into an uneasy silence. "You expecting anyone?" he asked, his voice low, eyes wide.Toby shook his head. "Not a soul, man."They sat frozen for a beat, waiting, listening. The bell rang again. Louder this time, more insistent. A wave of panic swept through the room. "Who could it be?" Carlos whispered, his voice barely audible, but edged with tension. Toby shook his head. "I don’t know. And it's a rare thing for anyone to come here, without me inviting them over.."As if on instinct, Toby then reached for the gun he had been keeping nearby since yesterday’s events.