The revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. My father had been plotting this scheme for weeks, and the sudden eruption of violence caught everyone off guard. Gunshots pierced the atmosphere, each resounding crack echoing through the restaurant, a haunting symphony of destruction. Panic erupted like a wildfire, engulfing the patrons in a maelstrom of fear. Desperate screams filled the air as people frantically sought refuge, their movements a frenzied dance of survival. The once-tranquil establishment transformed into a battlefield, its walls and furnishings bearing witness to the relentless barrage of bullets that tore through the air with ruthless precision. Amidst the tumult, amidst the swirling vortex of panic and despair, I heard the voice of my beloved brother pierce through the clamor, his words laced with a potent cocktail of disbelief, frustration, and mounting dread. "What the hell?" Stefan's voice rang out, his tone a desperate plea for comprehension in the face of unfathom

"The police," he scoffed. "They're completely useless. They have no concern for what happens in certain parts of the city, especially when it involves gangs. The ruthless gangs control the streets, murdering anyone who gets in their way. They're nothing more than animals. Rafael is determined to eliminate them. He made a promise to me, and I believe he'll keep it. When we lost two soldiers a few months ago, he made sure to assist their families, just as he did for me." "This gang, do they have a name?" "They go by the name of the Blood Brothers. They're merely the hired guns for the Movino gang. I may be involved in criminal activities, ma'am, but we have a code of honor that we adhere to. It's important to the Reigo family. We don't terrorize women late at night, and we don't harm innocent children." I recoiled, absorbing the information. It was no wonder Rafael was so furious. "I wish I knew what to say. I apologize for questioning you. You have no connection to my predicament."

His intense gaze remained fixed on me as he removed his shirt, stained with blood, revealing his muscular frame. With a growl, he grasped my hair, pulling me close to him. Without hesitation, he forcefully kissed me. His body radiated heat, as if he were engulfed in flames. I wrapped my arm around his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair. The scent of destruction mingled with his exotic cologne, arousing me to the point where I couldn't help but whimper into the kiss. He exhibited a level of aggression I had never seen before, quickly removing my shirt and running his fingers along my back. Every aspect of this man exuded control as his tongue dominated mine in a savage and relentless kiss. His muscles tensed, his desperate hunger seemingly boundless. A hint of bourbon tantalized my taste buds as he forcefully brought us both to our knees, momentarily breaking the intimate connection to discard my shirt. A dark, powerful expression crossed his face, revealing an uncompromising and

Exhaling, Rafael ran a hand over his jaw, attempting to dismiss my concerns. "Don't worry about it, babe," he said casually. Refusing to let the matter drop, I grabbed his shirt and held it up to his face. "You were covered in blood, Rafael. If it wasn't yours, then whose was it?" He chuckled, avoiding my gaze and staring down at his hands. Though they appeared clean now, a lingering feeling persisted that they hadn't been earlier. My mind couldn't shake the image of a gruesome massacre. Frustrated, I confronted him, stating, "I may not have all the answers, but I'm involved whether you like it or not." He turned his head, giving me a commanding look that silenced my protests. Seeking solace, I turned my gaze towards the French doors, observing the vibrant colors of the dawning day. It was a symbol of new beginnings, but the fear of what the day held in store clung to me. Changes were coming—changes that brought with them new rules and horrors. In a span of just twenty-four hours,

I heard her soft gasp, and as she turned to face me, her expression contorted with pain. "What?" she whispered, her voice filled with concern. I clenched my fist, desperately trying to control my anger. "My brother, Stefan. He's in a coma, and the doctors don't think he'll make it. He wasn't involved in our family's business, he was innocent. He took the bullet meant for me. It should have been me lying in that hospital bed, not him. He was the only good part of our family, and now he's fighting for his life." Her hand reached out, her fingers gently touching my face. "You never told me about your brother," she said softly. "Yeah, well, he's been away for a while, working with the Peace Corps. He's a good man, an honest man. And now he's clinging to life because of that damn bastard." "I'm so sorry, Rafael. So sorry. But you are a good man. You have to start believing it," she said, her voice filled with compassion. But believing in my own goodness seemed impossible. I leaned into