***
I’d bought the burner phone weeks ago. Paid cash at a corner store, kept it hidden in the back of my closet, wrapped in an old sweater Drew never touched.
I pulled it out now, my heart hammering against my ribs, my mouth dry.
This was it. The line I was about to cross. The choice that would define everything.
Betray Vance. Warn Rafael. Save the people I’d been trying to destroy for two years.
And hope to God no one ever found out it was me.
I typed the message carefully, my fingers shaking so badly I had to retype it twice.
Warehouse district. Midnight. Ambush planned. Armed and ready.
I stared at the words, my chest tight, my vision blurring.
If I sent this, there was no going back. Vance would know. He’d figure it out eventually. And when he did—
I hit send before I could change my mind.
The message disappeared into the void, and I sat there on the edge of Drew’s bed, clutching the burner phone like it was a lifeline.
Or a noose.
I didn’t know which.
***
The hours crawled by like years.
Drew had gone to the office early, leaving me alone in the apartment with nothing but my thoughts and the crushing weight of what I’d done.
I tried to distract myself. Made breakfast I couldn’t eat. Turned on the TV and stared at the screen without seeing anything. Paced the living room until my feet ached.
But nothing could quiet the voice in my head screaming that I’d just signed my own death warrant.
My phone—my real phone—sat on the coffee table, silent and accusing.
I couldn’t stop staring at it.
Waiting for it to ring. Waiting for Vance to call and scream at me, threaten me, tell me he knew what I’d done.
But it stayed silent.
Until it didn’t.
The buzzing shattered the quiet like a gunshot. I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat, and grabbed the phone with shaking hands.
Vance.
Of course, it was Vance.
I considered not answering. Considered throwing the phone across the room and pretending it never rang.
But that would only make things worse.
I swiped to answer, brought the phone to my ear, and forced myself to breathe.
