The sky was starting to darken when the message hit Mike's phone.
Short. Weird. Enough to send his thoughts running everywhere.
What happened to Charles?
Did he slip in the bathroom? Or was this just another one of his dumb dramas? But something felt off. His instincts told him this wasn't small. Not just bad luck.
This could be about someone's life.
Charles was in too deep. The cartel wasn't a place for half-hearted people.
Mike let out a short breath, then stood up.
Decision made. No debate.
He had to go.
On the way there, his mind wouldn't stop spinning.
Charles. The cartel. Risk.
All mixed together.
The moment he arrived, Charles grabbed him and pulled him into a corner. His face was tense.
"If a van shows up, tell them I'm not here."
Mike narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
Charles stared at him, patience running thin.
"Just do it. Or you want me to cut your pay?"
No explanation. Just a cheap threat.
Mike didn't respond. He turned and walked toward the gate.
Not long after, the van showed up.
The engine was still running when the door opened.
A man stepped out. Big build. Hard face. Rough aura that didn't need introduction. His Latin features were obvious.
He walked straight toward Mike.
"WHERE IS CHARLES?"
His voice was loud. Impatient. Rude.
Mike stayed calm. "What do you want with him?"
The man stepped closer, jaw tight.
"That's not your business. I'm here for him."
Then the name clicked.
Thiago Manco.
In Mike's head, the conclusion came instantly.
Cartel.
Without hesitation, Mike let him in.
As Thiago passed, Mike noticed something.
A slight bulge under his jacket.
Too familiar.
A gun.
Great. Just what he needed.
Mike let out a slow breath.
He could pretend he didn't see it.
Or step deeper into the mess.
He chose the option that would obviously make his life harder.
He followed.
Inside, their footsteps were heavy. Rough. Like they didn't care about anything.
Thiago wasn't alone. Another guy was with him.
Calmer. But his eyes were cold. Watching everything.
"Nico Rosberg," Mike muttered in his head.
The name sounded out of place. But the guy clearly wasn't normal.
They walked while talking quietly.
About "our people."
About a "truck."
Mike frowned.
This wasn't just some internal issue.
Something bigger was going on.
Maybe… FBI.
Charles' workspace was trashed in minutes.
Tables flipped. Drawers pulled out. Stuff everywhere.
They were searching.
And they weren't patient.
Until—
"Found him."
Nico's voice was flat.
Charles was hiding under a desk.
His body was shaking. Breathing uneven. Face pale like he'd already seen death.
Thiago stepped closer.
Then snapped.
"HOW THE HELL DID YOU MESS THIS UP SO BAD, YOU IDIOT?!"
Charles could barely speak.
"I… I didn't mean to…"
"Weak excuse."
Without warning, Thiago kicked him hard.
Charles flew back. Hit the floor. Helpless.
From his spot, Mike watched.
Silent.
But his mind was loud.
The cartel wasn't solid. They were tearing each other apart.
Brutal. No loyalty. Just pressure.
And if he went deeper…
His family could get dragged into it.
For the first time, his ambition hit something real.
Consequences.
Thiago raised his gun.
Pointed straight at Charles' head.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Charles was crying. Begging. His pride was already gone, crushed by fear.
"Please… don't… please…"
There was no mercy in Thiago's eyes.
Just emotion.
Just a decision.
Mike clenched his fist.
He couldn't stay still.
Not because he cared.
But because Charles…
Was his access.
And he wasn't done yet.
Mike moved quietly.
Nico and Thiago didn't notice.
Until—
A gunshot echoed.
One loud blast that broke everything.
And for a moment—
The world stopped.