𝗔𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼 ♡ＦＲＯＺ＄Ｎ

Ｔａｃｔｉｃ＄

Once they were far enough from the burning warehouse, Armando pulled the motorcycle to a halt on the deserted road. The night was silent, save for the distant crackling of the fire. Malia dismounted, filled with rage and frustration.

“Fuck! Everything I had found burned to ashes,” Malia exclaimed, her voice trembling with anger.

“Really? Is that all you can think about?” Armando shot back, his tone incredulous.

“Yes!” Malia replied, glaring at him.

“Listen, if you continue down this path, you won't be a missing person. You’ll be dead,” Armando warned, his eyes hardening.

“I see the wanted man did his research,” Malia retorted, sarcasm dripping from her words.

“Yes, and until I helped you, I was laying low,” Armando responded, his patience thinning.

“Leave me here then. I could just turn you in myself,” Malia threatened, her voice shaking with defiance.

“Oh, so that's what you want to do, huh?” Armando challenged, stepping closer.

“I don't care that you saved me. I'm not your problem,” Malia snapped, crossing her arms defiantly.

“You should be more grateful. This drug business is not easy,” Armando said, his voice low and dangerous.

“I know that, but I know how easy it is to take down. I mean, look at you. Where’s your dead mommy now?” Malia spat, the words cutting deep.

In an instant, Armando’s expression darkened. He pulled a gun and pressed it to her head, gripping her arm tightly. The pain of his mother's betrayal and death flashed in his eyes, mingling with anger and regret.

“Is this what you want to happen? Because this is exactly what's gonna happen if you don't go home,” Armando hissed, his grip tightening.

“Then kill me, because if you don't, I’ll do it myself,” Malia said, her voice steady despite the gun at her head.

For a moment, they stood frozen, the tension thick between them. Then, slowly, Armando released her and put his gun away, his face a mask of conflicted emotions.

“I only know what my dad told me. Your best bet is to go to him if you want to stay alive,” Armando said, his voice softer but no less firm.

“Did you not hear me?” Malia asked, her frustration boiling over.

“I heard you, and I’m choosing to ignore it. So hop back on before I change my mind,” Armando ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Malia stared at him, a mix of anger and confusion swirling in her eyes. Despite her defiance, she knew he was right. Reluctantly, she climbed back onto the motorcycle, wrapping her arms around him once more.