(LANCE)
The first light of dawn filtered through the pine trees like pale gold blades, cutting across the fishing shack’s weathered walls. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the clean scent of morning dew, pine resin, and the distant brine of the ocean. Inside, the wood stove had burned low, leaving a faint smoky warmth that mixed with the lingering metallic trace of blood on my clothes and the subtle sweetness of Eliona’s skin as she slept against my chest.
I hadn’t closed my eyes all night.
The successful capture of Victor and Diego Salazar played on repeat in my mind — the cold dock, the silenced darts, the moment both brothers realized the ghost team had turned their own trap against them. They were now in federal custody, handed over cleanly through Marcus’s back channels. No tra
