I should’ve known peace wouldn’t last. Not after everything.

Mark had killed Cholo. It wasn’t just a warning—it was a message. And people like Cholo? They didn’t die without leaving behind a mess.

The mess came two days later.

It started when Mark got a call. We were in the kitchen. I was making coffee while Mark leaned against the counter, shirtless, looking so good it was almost unfair. For once, things felt… normal. Easy.

Then his phone buzzed.

I didn’t think much of it at ...