“You’re only sorry,” she sneers, “because you lived long enough to understand what fear feels like.”
Tony goes silent.
Absolutely silent.
She straightens slowly, her face still empty. For a moment, she just stands there, looking down at him like she’s staring at the corpse of her old life.
And then she smiles.
Not with joy.
Not with revenge.
With something unhinged and beautifully broken.
Tony sobs. “I… I told you… Herrera… I swear I’m trying…”
Her voice almost sounds gentle. “You think that’s enough?”
She reaches out, and Tony thinks it’s pity… until her fingers twist into his hair and snap his head back. His scream is sharp, high, helpless.
He doesn’t get to finish.
She pulls a small silver blade from her waistband, one none of us noticed.
My stomach drops, and Maverick’s grip tightens..
But there’s no stopping her.
She leans in, whispering against Tony’s ear.
“This is for my mother.”
She drives the blade up under his jaw, straight into the carotid.
Tony starts choking on his own blood.
“This is for my father.”
She twists.
Blood pours thick down her arm.
Tony spasms.
“And this…” Her voice goes quiet. Eerily quiet. “This is for Ty.”
She pulls the blade across his throat.
Clean. Precise. Absolute.
Tony twitches once. Then he’s gone.
The entire room goes silent.
Even the air seems to hold its breath.
Lolo stays there for a few seconds, crouching in front of the body. Blood dripping from her blade onto the concrete.
