The air was thick with tension as Elian's crew neared the coordinates Selena had given them.
The dusty, sun-baked road stretched for miles in front of them, as desolate as the barren fields they had left behind. Yet even in this harsh, unyielding landscape, there was an unmistakable sense of something more — something darker waiting just beyond the horizon.
Elian didn't trust Selena.
Not completely.
He had learned long ago that trust was a fragile thing, easily shattered under the weight of betrayal. But, for the moment, he needed her.
They needed her.
The Revenant Cartel had been a shadow looming over them, and it was time to strike. The map she provided had led them here, to this lonely stretch of nothing, where the cartel's high-ranking members would be meeting in two days. The gathering was supposed to be a chance for Elian's group to hit them hard, to fracture the cartel's leadership.
But even as they made their final preparations, something gnawed at Elian's gut.
That voice — the one that had never steered him wrong — whispered warning after warning. Trust her, but don't trust her. Use her, but always keep your guard up.
---
By the time they reached the safehouse Selena had mentioned, dusk had fallen. The house was nothing more than a rundown shack, hidden deep within a valley, its windows darkened, and its walls weathered by time and neglect.
Inside, the air was stale, musty, and thick with the smell of old leather and whiskey. The wooden floors creaked underfoot as Elian and his crew made their way through the dimly lit room. The tension was palpable, yet each of them held their silence, aware that their every move might be scrutinized.
Selena stood by the door, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Her posture was casual, but the predatory glint in her eyes betrayed her every thought.
"You're early," she remarked, almost lazily, her voice a smooth purr that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Elian's gaze didn't leave her for a second as he stepped inside. "A little sooner than expected. We don't take chances anymore."
"Good," Selena said, nodding once. "You'll need all the time you can get."
The others filed in behind him, their eyes scanning the room for any hidden threats. There was a sharpness in the air that made even the seasoned warriors uneasy.
"We have a lot to discuss," Selena continued, walking to the table in the center of the room. It was cluttered with papers, maps, and old books, an odd assortment of documents scattered across the surface. She gestured for Elian to join her.
Elian took a step forward, but before he could reach the table, a voice interrupted.
"Do you trust her?" Maren asked, her voice low but filled with suspicion.
Elian didn't even look back at her. "Not yet."
---
Selena slid a file across the table toward Elian. "This is everything you need to know about the Cartel's leadership," she said, her tone no longer playful. "The man in charge, Hector Valdez, is more ruthless than you think. But the real problem isn't him."
Elian narrowed his eyes. "Then who?"
Selena leaned in slightly, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. "It's the one pulling his strings."
She watched Elian closely, waiting for the words to sink in. He stood there, unmoving, as the weight of her statement settled over him.
"Who?" he demanded.
Her lips curled into a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "My father."
Elian froze.
A ripple of disbelief passed through him. He had expected many things — but not this. Not Selena's father.
"So you've been lying this whole time," he said quietly, though his voice trembled with a mix of anger and confusion. "You're not just some mercenary out for revenge. You're part of the Cartel."
"Not anymore," she said quickly, her voice cold. "I defected years ago. I wanted to kill him. End his reign. But I was too weak. Now I've built my own empire. And you're going to help me destroy what remains of his."
The silence that followed was thick with tension. No one spoke. Not even Kael, who usually had something to say, remained quiet.
But Elian felt a spark of something — a recognition.
In the end, everything always came back to blood. Family. Those who betrayed you. And those who you couldn't escape.
"You want to destroy him," Elian repeated, his eyes narrowing. "But why? If you've got the strength to stand on your own now... why come to us for help?"
Selena's face hardened, the emotion in her eyes flickering for just a moment. "Because I need you. You're the only one who can get close enough to kill him. And once you do, I'll take over the Cartel. You'll have everything you want. Money. Power. Resources. Anything."
"You think we'll just hand it to you?" Maren asked, her voice bitter. "Like we're some kind of pawns in your game?"
Selena's gaze shifted to Maren, her eyes narrowing. "I didn't come here to make friends," she said, her tone darkening. "I came here to make sure my father's empire falls — and I'll use whatever means necessary to do that."
A cold chill swept through the room as the weight of her words settled over them. No one moved. No one spoke.
For a moment, the only sound was the slow crackling of the fire in the corner.
---
By the time they finished discussing the details of the plan, it was well past midnight. Elian felt his exhaustion settle into his bones, but there was no time for rest. The plan needed to be perfect.
They would infiltrate the meeting two days from now. Hector Valdez would be there, along with the most influential members of the Cartel. But they weren't just going to kill him. They needed to send a message. They needed to burn it all to the ground, piece by piece.
As they filed out of the room, Elian caught a glimpse of Selena standing by the window, watching them with that cold, calculating stare.
Her betrayal wasn't a matter of if — it was a matter of when.
She would use them. Just like everyone else did.
But for now, they needed her.
And after this was over? After the Cartel was in ruins?
Elian would make sure to settle the score.
---
The next morning, the tension hung heavy. The safehouse was quiet, save for the occasional sound of someone sharpening their weapons or going over the plan one last time.
Elian stood near the window, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The sun had yet to rise, but he could feel the storm brewing — not in the skies, but inside him.
This wasn't just a mission. It wasn't just about survival.
This was personal.
And once it was over — nothing would ever be the same.
---