The car came to a stop at the traffic light.
The red glow flickered and dimmed, reflecting off Lucas's face as he sat beside Casimiro, while two guards lingered behind them in heavy silence.
Casimiro stole a glance at Lucas…
A face without expression.
Cold… like a wall that could not be read.
The light turned green.
The car moved.
Minutes later—
they arrived at abandoned buildings, devoid of any sign of life.
Casimiro stopped the car,
then glanced back without saying a word.
The guards understood.
They stepped out and walked about twenty meters away.
Silence settled.
Casimiro pulled out an electronic cigarette,
but Lucas hated that moment—
it reminded him of their first meeting.
Casimiro took a deep drag, then said:
"Listen… Arthur."
He glanced at Lucas again.
No shock… no reaction.
"Just tell me… what do you want?"
Casimiro's jaw tightened.
He took another long drag, exhaling slowly as he stared at him.
"I want your help… to spy on Antonio."
Lucas turned toward him, feigning surprise.
"What?"
Casimiro liked that.
He smiled.
"Use your… espionage skills."
Lucas asked, as if trying to understand:
"Why should I watch him?"
Inside, he smiled… but showed nothing.
Casimiro sighed.
"There's a group… I don't know if it's a gang or something else… stealing my money and my drugs."
He paused, then threw the cigarette forward irritably.
"The point is… if I don't bring in money like I should… I'm dead."
He raised his gaze, locking onto Lucas's eyes.
"I want to help Antonio… but he's dangerous.
Smart… and he takes advantage of opportunities."
He stopped, then added:
"That's why… I need someone on the inside."
At that moment—
Lucas quietly raised his phone.
He was… recording.
A faint, mocking smile crossed his lips.
Something inside Casimiro trembled.
(…He's recording me? When? How?)
Lucas spoke, his voice lethally calm:
"Sorry… I can't betray Antonio."
Before Casimiro could move—
cold pressure pressed against his body.
He froze.
Slowly, he looked down…
A gun.
(A gun… how did he get it?)
Casimiro remained completely still.
Lucas's voice came out cold… like frozen air:
"How do you have a gun… when you're only a C-level?"
Casimiro's body stiffened.
He couldn't move.
"You won't do it… you're a coward."
Silence.
Then—
a low laugh… filled with enjoyment.
As if he savored every second of the tension.
Lucas leaned closer, slowly,
a faint smile on his lips…
cold, hiding a boiling rage beneath.
"Want to make a bet?"
He paused, then whispered:
"Call your guards."
Casimiro swallowed.
His long experience screamed inside him—
this was no ordinary man.
Those eyes…
were the eyes of a killer.
Cold.
Hungry.
Ready to spill blood.
But—
Casimiro…
did not move.
He did not retreat.
He showed no fear.
He simply looked at him… steadily.
Then said calmly:
"Listen carefully."
A brief silence.
Then he continued:
"Talk to your guards… and order them to leave."
Just like that—
Lucas leaned back into his seat,
as if he controlled everything.
Casimiro looked out the window beside him…
then let out a short whistle.
The guards approached quickly.
Without turning toward them, he said:
"Your job is done…
wait for my call."
The two guards exchanged looks.
The order was strange… sudden.
But—
he was their leader.
They nodded… and obeyed.
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then Lucas said calmly:
"Start the engine… and head to the harbor."
Casimiro started the car.
He pulled out another electronic cigarette,
but Lucas's gaze toward it…
was as if it had killed someone from his family.
Casimiro took a drag, then said:
"What's your plan, Lucas?
Or are you… just improvising?"
Lucas pressed the gun harder against him.
"Drive."
—
The road took about twenty minutes.
They reached the harbor.
Casimiro stopped the car.
In front of them—
the ocean.
The full moon's light reflected across the water,
a peaceful scene…
almost deceiving.
Lucas lifted his gaze toward the moon.
He felt something strange—
sadness…
and freedom.
(I could leave… forget everything…)
(I'm nothing but a human… in a meaningless life…)
(Nothing is worth all this…)
—
"Do you think you're on a romantic date?"
The voice returned.
"He's trying to take your weapon."
Lucas's focus snapped back instantly.
He turned—
just in time.
Casimiro had been close to grabbing the gun.
Lucas raised it quickly, aiming at his head.
Casimiro immediately lifted his hands.
"Relax… relax."
Then he smiled lightly.
"I had to try."
Lucas exhaled slowly.
"You asked me if I had a plan…"
Casimiro shrugged.
"Clearly, you don't."
Lucas tilted his head slightly.
"I do."
A brief pause…
Then he said coldly:
"I'll make one… that ends you."
Casimiro's expression froze.
Lucas spoke without looking at him:
"I don't want to see your face again."
Then he looked at the sea, adding:
"Casimiro… kill yourself here."
Casimiro laughed mockingly.
"No one will believe you."
Lucas raised his phone with confidence.
"I recorded you… asking me to betray Antonio."
He leaned closer.
"And you also admitted… that you'd die."
He smiled.
"Even if your guards say I was the last one with you…
I have this."
Casimiro's expression changed.
He clenched his teeth.
"Everyone knows me… there's no way I'd commit suicide."
He paused, then added with forced confidence:
"And even if I get kicked out… I'll be in Mexico."
Lucas laughed.
A strange… unsettling laugh.
"I'll try my luck."
—
At that moment—
Casimiro understood.
This… was his end.
This man—
was not joking.
Fear began to seep into him.
(Am I… going to die?)
He looked into Lucas's eyes—
empty.
Merciless.
Today…
there was no escape.
Death… was inevitable.
He began to sweat.
To tremble.
Suddenly, he shouted:
"Wait! If you kill me—my brother won't forgive you—!"
But—
he didn't finish.
Lucas grabbed his neck tightly
and slammed his head violently into the steering wheel—
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Four consecutive blows.
Casimiro's body went limp.
He lost consciousness.
Blood ran down his face… and across the wheel.
—
Lucas leaned back slightly.
Breathing heavily.
Trying to calm himself.
"I'm starting to like you… Arthur."
He exhaled.
"Everything's fine… I can do this… I can—"
The voice cut him off:
"Of course you can."
A soft laugh.
"You just assaulted a leader… there's no going back now."
Silence.
Then Lucas said sharply:
"He deserves to die."
The voice laughed… deeper, more mocking:
"Deserves?"
A pause… then a whisper:
"No…"
"You're doing this… because you liked the feeling."
"The feeling… of taking a human life."
Lucas looked at the car's mirror…
as if he were staring directly at that voice.
"No… he deserves to die."
His voice was low, yet sharp.
"If he dies… I'll save many people he would've killed in the future."
The reply came instantly:
"And who will save… those you kill?"
He froze.
He kept staring at his reflection…
as if he were about to explode.
—
He slowly turned his head,
then looked inside the car.
He moved closer to Casimiro's body.
Started searching him… carefully.
A pocket… another… the coat…
Until—
he found the phone.
He grabbed Casimiro's hand,
pressed his finger onto the device.
Unlocked.
—
At that moment—
a chill ran through his body.
He stopped.
He didn't understand.
He looked ahead slowly…
(What is this feeling…?)
Something… unsettling.
Invisible.
—
The voice laughed:
"I'll help you, Arthur…"
He froze.
"There's… someone watching you."
—
Lucas turned sharply.
He looked behind—
right… left…
No one.
Before reaching the harbor…
he had made sure no one was following him.
The road had been empty.
(Watching me? From where?)
(No one's here…)
But—
the feeling…
didn't fade.
—
He tightened his fist slightly,
then refocused.
He opened the phone.
Started searching—
photos… calls… messages…
anything.
—
Then—
his expression changed.
Messages.
Strange.
He read slowly:
—
Unknown:
"Are you still going to do it?"
Casimiro:
"Yes… don't worry. I'm with you."
Unknown:
"What's your plan?"
Unknown:
"I mean… how are we going to kill him?"
Unknown:
"Don't forget, we're talking about Antonio, not just anyone."
—
He stopped.
Swallowed.
(…Assassination?)
He kept reading.
—
Casimiro:
"I need to find someone on the inside."
—
Lucas covered his mouth.
(…Don't tell me…)
(Was it… me?)
—
The voice laughed:
"He wasn't lying about that."
—
He continued reading:
—
Unknown:
"Good. If it works… you'll get all his territories."
Casimiro:
"Why do you want him dead?"
Unknown:
"Don't worry about the details… just do your job."
—
Silence.
His eyes stayed on the screen…
but his mind—
started connecting everything.
—
(There's another party…)
(Not Casimiro…)
(And they want Antonio dead…)
—
He slowly raised his head.
Looked at the surroundings ahead.
—
"The game… is bigger than I thought."
He whispered it.
—
The voice laughed… softly:
"And you… are part of it now."
That… was the last message.
Time— 10:30.
At the same time…
Lucas had been with Carl.
He rubbed his head slowly,
trying to process everything.
(Casimiro… wasn't just trying to use me…)
(He wanted me… to assassinate Antonio.)
His jaw tightened.
(And who was he talking to?)
From the tone…
it was clear.
(Someone higher up…)
—
His thoughts scattered.
Was there really a group targeting Casimiro's territories?
And why hadn't he mentioned it?
(Was he hiding something… or just a pawn?)
But—
one question…
kept pounding in his head:
(What did Antonio do?)
—
While searching—
something caught his attention.
A photo.
GPS coordinates.
A location… near Miami.
He stopped.
Stared at it for seconds.
Then—
took a picture of it with his own phone.
(Just in case…)
He put the phone back in place.
Exhaled.
Trying to calm down…
—
He cast one last glance at Casimiro's face.
Still.
Silent.
—
But—
in his eyes…
another face reflected.
Carl.
Dead.
—
His heart stopped for a moment.
He clenched his teeth.
Then stepped out of the car.
—
He walked a few steps away…
But—
stopped.
He remembered something.
Went back.
—
Placed his hands on the back of the car…
and pushed.
With all his strength.
—
It moved slowly.
The sound of friction against the ground was low…
but heavy.
He kept pushing.
Step… by step…
Until—
the car fell into the ocean.
—
Silence.
—
Lucas bent slightly,
catching his breath.
He looked at his hand.
The electronic cigarette.
He stared at it for a second…
then threw it to the ground.
Crushed it under his foot.
—
He felt… lighter.
A little.
But—
it didn't last.
—
A laugh.
—
The voice.
It returned.
But this time—
it wasn't normal.
It was continuous.
Loud.
Aggravating.
—
Lucas froze.
(…What?)
At first, he didn't care.
But—
the laughter didn't stop.
—
It became strange.
Sharper…
—
He felt something was wrong.
(…Did I forget something?)
He slowly raised his head.
"What's wrong…?"
"What's happening…?"
—
No answer.
Only—
laughter.
—
"Arthur…"
the voice whispered… between its laughs.
"How… amusing you are."