𝗔𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼 ♡ＦＲＯＺ＄Ｎ

Ｃｈａｏ＄

The train ride to Nashville had been long and quiet, the silence between Malia and Armando thick with unspoken tension. Malia couldn’t stand it, the hours dragging on as she watched the scenery blur by outside. Armando’s stoic demeanor was a stark contrast to her restless energy.

Once they arrived in Nashville, they stopped at a small diner to grab a bite to eat. Malia couldn’t help but be curious, her mind racing with questions she couldn’t contain any longer.

"So, did you really shoot your own father?" Malia asked, breaking the silence.

Armando’s expression darkened. "Yes. I didn’t know this was an interview."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Okay, I get it. I’m on your bad side. But at least look at the bright side—I’m still alive thanks to you."

Armando’s eyes flashed with irritation. "This isn’t a joking matter, you know."

"What do you expect me to do? I don’t know you well enough," Malia shot back.

"And you don’t need to," Armando replied coldly.

"Fine, but I’m going to the bathroom," Malia said, standing up.

As she walked away, Armando’s instincts kicked in. He glanced around the diner, noticing three men sitting at different tables, each alone but all watching them intently. Something was off.

The realization hit him just as Malia returned from the bathroom. The men moved simultaneously, reaching for concealed weapons. Armando acted on pure reflex, flipping the table to create a barrier.

"Get down!" he shouted, pushing Malia behind the overturned table.

The diner erupted in chaos as gunfire rang out. Armando drew his own weapon, firing back with precision. The three men were relentless, but Armando’s years of training and experience gave him the upper hand. One by one, he took them down, but not without drawing attention to their location.

Malia peeked over the table, her eyes wide with shock. "What the fuck is going o—"

"Shut up," Armando hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the exit.

They burst out of the diner and Armando scanned the street for an escape route. His eyes landed on a parked car. Without hesitation, he broke the window and quickly hot-wired the vehicle.

"Get in," he commanded, shoving Malia into the passenger seat.

Malia’s heart pounded as she scrambled into the car. Armando slid behind the wheel and revved the engine, peeling out of the parking lot just as more armed men appeared from around the corner.

They sped through the streets of Nashville, the city blurring past them. Malia clutched her seatbelt, her mind racing.

"Who the hell were those guys?" she demanded.

"Dominic’s men," Armando replied tersely. "He’s put a bounty on our heads."

"A bounty?" Malia’s eyes widened. "How much?"

"Five million each," Armando said, glancing at her briefly before focusing back on the road.

"Five million?" Malia echoed, disbelief in her voice. "No wonder they were so eager to kill us."

"Exactly," Armando said. "Now you see why this isn’t a game."

Malia fell silent, the gravity of their situation sinking in.