POV: Darius
Mexico City.
The air always carried something heavy here—smoke, sweat, secrets. My compound sat in the heart of it all, tall gates and stone walls keeping the chaos outside from ever bleeding in. Inside, it was order.
From the living room, I could hear my men in the courtyard—metal clicking as weapons were checked, crates opening, the low growl of the bears I had brought in for intimidation. The sound was music to me. Discipline. Control.
Caleb walked in, his black shirt rolled up at the sleeves, the same cocky smile he always carried etched across his face.
“I told the men we’ll be leaving by five,” he said.
I looked down at my wristwatch, the ticking sound sharp in the silence. Five. I nodded once. “That’s enough time to prepare. I’m sure word has already spread that I
