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Bodhi exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. “Fucking finally.”

I look down at Javier Reyes—the king who built empires on blood and fear.

And I don’t feel guilt.

I feelfree.

Chapter 50

Seanna

Marcustookcareofeverything.

The cars. The bodies. The blood spatter threading through the dirt like a broken vein.

It turns out he was never Javier’s errand boy.

Not really.

He was Bodhi’s. Or, more accurately, anally. An embedded ghost who’d been working quietly for years to dismantle Reyes’ empire from the inside—cutting off its limbs one by one until the body collapsed under its own weight. They had even turned Navarro.

The plan I hadn’t been trusted with.

The one they kept telling me towaitfor.

And now? According to all of them—Marcus, Bodhi, Matteo—Kingston Reyesis dead.

Buried alongside his father.

The cartel?

Shattered.

It won’t survive the week.

The pieces are already falling.

We’d fallen into bed sometime after. Still bloody. Still wrecked. Still too wired to sleep and too exhausted to speak. Every muscle in my body screamed, but I didn’t care. Not when I finally had control again. Not when Javier Reyes was cold and silent beneath a blanket of pine needles and dirt.

I don’t remember who fell asleep first.

Doesn’t matter.

Sleep came for me like a drug, pulling me under hard and fast.

I don’t know how long I’m out.

But I jolt awake with a hand on my shoulder—soft, careful.

My breath catches.

My eyes snap open.

Hydessa.

Her face is inches from mine, cast in an eerie neon glow. One side tinted red. The other green. Her expression is urgent. Pale. A little wild. Her dark hair is tangled, her mouth parted like she’s halfway between a whisper and a scream.

And that’s when I see them.