The Los Angeles skyline shimmered in the heat as you leaned against the hood of a blacked-out Charger, watching the entrance of the club. The bass from inside pulsed through the pavement, a steady reminder of just how deep you and Brian were in this operation. You weren’t just playing a role anymore—you were living it, breathing it. Embedded in one of L.A.’s most dangerous crime families, there was no room for mistakes.

“You good?” Brian asked, flicking a cigarette onto the asphalt. His voice was low, casual, but his eyes—blue and sharp—were scanning, always watching. You had been partners long enough to read between the lines. What he was really asking was: Are we in too deep?

“Yeah,” you exhaled, adjusting the diamond necklace around your neck, another piece of the disguise you’d worn so long it was starting to feel real. “You?”

He smirked, running a hand through his sun-bleached hair. “Best gig I ever had.” The way he said it made you uneasy. Brian had a way of getting too comfortable, of slipping into a world that wasn’t his like he belonged there. You saw it in the way he joked with the crew, the way he let his guard down just enough to make you wonder if he’d forgotten which side he was on.

Inside, the club was thick with smoke and the scent of liquor. Money changed hands in dark corners, whispered deals made under the flickering neon lights. The boss, a man you only knew as Vega, sat in a leather booth, his eyes locked on Brian as he waved the two of you over. This was it—the moment you had been waiting for, the moment that would either get you in deeper… or get you both killed.

“We got a job,” Vega said, his voice smooth but laced with warning. “And I need to know… are you two ready to prove yourselves?”

Brian didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward, grinning like this was just another night.

“Name it.”