FAZER LOGINCedric stood outside Marcus’s apartment door, chest tight, the gun falcone had given him tucked into the back of his waistband like a dirty secret. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The hallway smelled like old carpet and takeout. Normal shit. The kind of building where people lived normal lives and didn’t have their entire existence destroyed by two obsessed psychopaths fighting over them.He picked the lock in under two minutes. The door clicked open into a modest, painfully neat apartment. Everything in its place. Clean counters. Folded laundry. A fucking calendar on the wall with gym days marked in red. Nothing like the blood-soaked chaos of falcone’s penthouse. It made Cedric want to smash everything.He moved straight to the living room wall. The framed photo hung exactly where he expected, Marcus and his father in uniform, both smiling like perfect American heroes. Cedric took it down and set it on the couch. Behind it was the safe.A sticky note inside the top drawer of the nea
The penthouse had turned into a slaughterhouse. FBI agents in tactical vests swarmed through the shattered remains of the living room, shouting commands over the ringing in Cedric’s ears. But they weren’t here for falclone. They weren’t here for Dante. They were here for Marcus Chen.Cedric watched in numb horror as two agents slammed Marcus face-first against the wall and yanked his arms behind his back. The cuffs clicked shut with a sound that felt too final. The charges spilled out like nails in a coffin: conspiracy to commit murder, obstruction of justice, tampering with evidence, and the cold-blooded killing of Detective Rivera, his own partner, the woman whose blood Cedric had seen staining Marcus’s shirt that night in the garage.Marcus didn’t fight them. He let the agents cuff him, his eyes never leaving Cedric’s face. Soft. Terrible. Obsessed in a way that made Cedric’s skin crawl.“You want to know why I really became a cop?” Marcus said as they dragged him past the overturn
Gunfire exploded through the penthouse like thunder.Falcone moved faster than Cedric thought possible. He tackled Cedric hard, shoving him behind the heavy couch as bullets ripped through the air. Glass from the floor-to-ceiling windows shattered everywhere. Someone screamed. The sound of automatic weapons filled the room with deafening chaos.“Bedroom!” falcone barked, shoving a loaded gun into Cedric’s hands. “Panic room behind the closet. Go. Now!”Cedric gripped the gun, heart slamming against his ribs. The wire Dante had forced on him was still taped to his chest, recording every gunshot, every shout. “I’m not leaving you!”Falcone’s face twisted with fury and raw fear. “This isn’t a fucking rom-com, Cedric! Go!”He shoved Cedric toward the hallway and turned back, firing at Dante’s men with deadly precision. Cedric ran, but not toward the bedroom. He circled around through the kitchen, keeping low, glass crunching under his shoes. His hands shook so badly he almost dropped the
Cedric walked back into the penthouse at 2 AM, the wire taped tight against his chest burning like a brand. Every step felt like betrayal. The elevator ride up had been silent, his reflection in the mirrored walls mocking him the whole way. He expected falcone to be waiting with rage in his eyes and a gun in his hand. Instead, the living room was dark except for the city lights bleeding through the windows.Falcone sat on the floor in the middle of the scattered photographs, back against the couch, knees drawn up. He looked small. Broken. Nothing like the kingpin who ruled New York with blood and iron.Cedric stopped in the doorway, heart hammering so hard the wire probably picked it up.“I thought you left,” falcone said without looking up. His voice was raw, exhausted. “I thought… I deserved it.”Cedric swallowed hard. The wire pressed against his skin with every breath. He crossed the room slowly and sat down on the floor across from falcone, legs folding under him.“Tell me about
Cedric sat rigid in the back of the black SUV as it sped through Staten Island streets. The leather seats smelled like cigar smoke and old blood. Dante Falcone lounged across from him like he owned the night, legs stretched out, one arm draped casually over the seat back. His smile never reached his eyes.The safe house was a crumbling old mansion tucked behind high stone walls and overgrown trees. Inside, the air was thick with dust, gun oil, and the low murmur of dangerous men. Dante’s soldiers stared at Cedric like they were already calculating how much he’d be worth in pieces. No one spoke. They just watched.“Relax, kid,” Dante said, leading him into a dimly lit study with dark wood panels and heavy furniture. He poured two generous glasses of whiskey and slid one across the scarred table. “You look like you’re waiting for someone to put a bullet in your skull. Sit down. Drink. We’re just talking.”Cedric stayed standing for a long moment, every instinct screaming at him to run.
Cedric stood frozen in the middle of the study, the newspaper clipping trembling violently in his grip. Photos of his younger self lay scattered across the floor like evidence in a trial he never asked for. Falcone filled the doorway completely, blocking the only exit, his expression calm and unreadable as always.“You killed him,” Cedric said, his voice cracking hard. “Lily saw you. She told me everything. She remembered you that night.”Falcone didn’t deny it. He never fucking denied anything. Instead, he walked slowly across the room to the large window and stared out at the glittering city lights below, hands sliding into his pockets.“Your father was a monster,” falcone said quietly, almost gently. “He beat your mother for years. He gambled away every penny you had. He was going to sell Lily to settle his debts. I found the emails. She was only six years old, Cedric. Six. Some sick bastard in Dubai had already wired half the money.”Cedric’s stomach lurched violently. He felt lik







