You hung from the ceiling by your wrists, bound with rope that rubs your skin raw. Every breath sent shards of pain through your cracked ribs, your lips split and bleeding.

Alejandro stood in front of you, his face a mask of cold fury. This wasn’t the Alejandro you knew—but a man driven by rage and a deep sense of betrayal. Next to him, Rudy leaned against the wall. But not to stop this. To see it through.

“You sold us out,” Alejandro’s voice was a dangerous growl. “You gave Valeria everything. Our positions, our plans, our men. You’ve been feeding her intel for months. Why?”

“I didn’t—” you gasped “I didn’t do it, Ale. You have to believe me.”

“Believe you?” Alejandro barked a bitter laugh “We found the phone. The messages. The money transfers. All of it leads back to you. You’re the traitor, and now, you’re going to pay for it.”

You shook your head weakly “I’ve fought with you…bled with you…I would never—”

“Lies,” Rudy cut you off, his voice cold and sharp. He stepped closer “We trusted you, and you threw it all away. For what? Money? Power?”

Rudy stepped forward, grabbing a length of rubber tubing from the table. He brought it down hard across your back, and you cried out. Another strike. Then another, the agony tearing screams from your throat.

You didn’t know how long it went on—hours, maybe days. You were barely conscious, barely holding on.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, and a young Vaquero stumbled in panting “Coronel! Rudy!” he gasped. “We got him—the real traitor. He was trying to send a message to Valeria just now. It wasn’t them!” He pointed frantically toward you “They're innocent!”

The room went still. Alejandro’s eyes widened in shock. Rudy stopped mid-strike, the tubing slipping from his fingers.

Rudy stepped back, his hands trembling “We…we were wrong. So wrong..."

Alejandro pulled out a knife and cut the ropes on your wrists. Your body collapsed, falling into his arms. “Lo siento,” his voice heavy “We should have listened. We should have trusted you…”