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The phone buzzed in Silas’s hand.
His breath caught when Mateo’s name lit up the screen. He swiped instantly, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Silas,” Mateo’s voice came—low, rough and intimate. “What’s wrong, pretty boy? You sound shaken. Talk to me.”
The warmth in his tone nearly broke Silas. His throat closed, tears threatening. God, Mateo…
But then—beep… beep…
The comm in his fucking ear vibrated to life, sharp. He flinched, pulling it out with his free hand. The agent’s clipped voice filtered through the static:
“Reeds, confirmation received. Target located. We’ve set the trap at the coast. He’ll be under custody before sundown. Do not engage—stand by for extraction.”
Silas froze. His pulse plummeted. He looked at Mateo’s name glowing on the phone, then at the comm hissing with triumph. His two worlds colliding, crushing him.
Mateo’s voice broke the silence. “Silas? Baby, are you there? Breathe for me.”
Silas pressed the phone harder to his ear, desperate, whispering, “Mateo… I need to see you now. Please. Don’t go anywhere near the coast. Promise me.”
There was a pause on the other end, weighted, suspicious. Then Mateo’s chuckle rolled down the line, dark and tender all at once. “Sweetheart, you’re trembling. What aren’t you telling me?”
Silas’s stomach twisted. He could hear the agents still buzzing through the comm, congratulating themselves, while Mateo’s voice—warm, raw, trusting—pulled him apart.
The line went quiet.
Silas’s heart stopped when the call dropped with a hollow click. He stared at the black screen, panic clawing up his throat.
“No, no, no—don’t hang up on me, Mateo…” he whispered, fumbling with the phone, but the call wouldn’t reconnect.
His comm buzzed again—agents barking orders, laughing, certain they’d have Mateo cornered before sundown.
Silas shoved it off the bed, chest heaving. His reflection in the dark TV stared back at him.
“I have to do something… fast,” he muttered, pacing the room. His fists clenched, then loosened, trembling. “I can’t let them take him. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s not the monster they think he is.”
Every letter Mateo had written, every word he’d whispered, every look burned through Silas’s memory until his resolve snapped into place.
“I’ll betray them first,” he hissed, dragging his suitcase from under the bed, shoving it open. His hands tore through clothes, pulling out the hidden flash drive, his burner phone, the spare passport the agency had given him. Tools for an agent. Now tools for a traitor.
His lips curved in a bitter, shaky smile. “I’ll burn everything. Every report, every trail I left for them to follow. If it’s me or him… it’s him. Always him.”
He shoved the flash drive into his pocket, whispering fiercely, “I’ll save you, Mateo. Even if it means I’m the one who gets caged.”
The lilies on the table swayed in the breeze from the half-open window.
Silas’s mind raced as he paced the floor.
He yanked his laptop from the drawer, the agency’s secure systems already wired through.
His fingers hovered above the keys, then slammed down with reckless determination.
“Change the manifest… reroute the ships,” he muttered under his breath, eyes sharp with desperation.
Line after line of code and schedules flickered across the screen.
He hacked into the agency’s trap—shifted the docking times, falsified the location logs. Instead of the coast where the net waited, Mateo’s vessel would appear to be arriving at a different harbor entirely.
The comm on the bed kept buzzing, agents demanding updates, but Silas ignored it. Sweat slicked his brow as he whispered, “There. They’ll be waiting at the wrong place while you’re already gone.”
He opened a burner account and typed fast to Mateo , his heart slamming with each word:
Anonymous Tip: Leave tonight. Don’t trust the coast. Take the southern passage. Disappear before sunrise. Someone wants you caged.
He hit send.
For a moment, the room was silent except for his ragged breathing. He stared at the sent message, every nerve in his body alive with fear and hope.
“Run, love,” Silas whispered to the dark, clutching Mateo’s note in his hand. “Run, and don’t look back. I’ll take the fall.”
But then—his comm unit erupted in static and shouts.
“Alert! The docking signal’s been tampered with!”
“Who the hell rerouted the target ship?”
“Lock the system down, NOW!”
Silas froze, breath caught in his throat as the sound of frantic typing and curses flooded the comm.
“Firewall breach identified!”
“Patch it—patch it—okay, reroute stabilized!”
“We’re back on track. The coast is secure. False alarm.”
The voices steadied, confidence returning.
“Nice try, but nobody slips past us. Mateo Woods will be in chains by sundown.”
Silas slammed the laptop shut, his hands shaking violently. His plan—his desperate gamble—crumbled in minutes.
He stumbled back, pressing against the wall, whispering through gritted teeth, “No… no, damn it, no…”
The comms crackled with cheers, voices overlapping like kids who just got told school was canceled.
“The wait is over!” one agent hollered. “We’re at the coast. He’ll be here in a few minutes, and our golden mafia criminal is done for.”
They laughed, trading high fives through the static like they’d already won.
Red-and-blue lights flashed across the waves, painting the scene like a crime scene before the crime even started.
Mateo stepped out of the car, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. His men tensed behind him, but he lifted a hand, stopping them cold.
“I’ll handle this.”
He walked forward alone, boots heavy against the concrete.
Across the pier, agents fanned out with their weapons raised, voices barking orders, radios crackling with sharp commands.
“Hands where we can see them, Woods!”
Mateo lifted his hands slowly No fight, no theatrics. Just surrender. The sight drew whispers through the comms — they hadn’t expected it to be this easy.
Two agents rushed forward, shoving him roughly against a black SUV. Metal cuffs clinked tight around his wrists, the cold bite of steel pressing against his skin.
One of them smirked. “Got him. The ghost himself. Guess you’re not so untouchable after all.”