Narrator’s Point of View

The months crawled by with a deceptive calm. It was the kind of peace that made even the toughest men uneasy—like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for the storm to return.

Inside Manolo’s mansion, life moved in measured rhythm.The nights were heavy with the scent of gun oil and sweat, echoing with the crack of live-fire training and the metallic click of reloading drills. Charlie, Tyler, and the rest of the men trained relentlessly, their bodies ...