The elevator doors opened with a soft mechanical ding that sounded far too loud in the underground garage. Marco stood there, barely ten feet away, holding a shotgun pointed straight at them. His face was twisted with pure hatred. Sweat and dirt streaked his skin. His eyes locked on Eli first, then moved to the platinum collar around his neck, and finally settled on Cove with burning rage. Marco’s lips curled into a sneer. “Well, well. Look at you two. My own brother standing there like a fucking whore, wearing that piece of shit’s collar. You’re a disgrace to the Reyes name, Eli. Laying with the enemy. Letting him fuck you. Letting him own you like a dog.” Eli’s body went cold. He stood frozen beside Cove, hands still gripping the back of Cove’s belt. The garage was dark, lit only by emergency red lights that cast long, bloody shadows across the concrete floor and parked cars. The air
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