Till Our Hearts Cross 👨❤️💋👨 💏

Vegas

The plan was set, the pieces in motion. No more time for hesitation, no more time for second-guessing. Everything had been mapped out, down to the last detail. P Thun was no longer a shadow in our lives—he was a target. And I wasn't about to let him slip away again.

The hours ticked by like the beat of a drum in my head, each second dragging on, my mind sharp with focus. I'd been waiting for this moment, and now, the time was here. I could almost feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my body alive with purpose. Revenge wasn't just a concept anymore; it was a mission. And I wasn't about to let anything get in the way.

We moved like clockwork, the team working in sync, everyone in their place. Kinn was on the ground, coordinating with his connections, making sure everything was running smoothly. Ken, our eyes and ears, kept tabs on P Thun's movements, feeding us information in real-time. I could hear the buzz of activity in the background, everyone moving with the same clear goal in mind—P Thun wouldn't see the end of the day.

I stood in the back of the room, silent, watching the screen as the operation unfolded. Porsche was there too, a step behind me, but I could feel his presence. He was watching me, keeping an eye on me just like Kinn had asked, but there was something in the way he held himself that told me he knew what I needed. We were past whatever had happened at the bar. There was no room for uncertainty now.

P Thun had made the mistake of underestimating us. Of thinking he could outplay us, that he could stay one step ahead. He couldn't. Not this time. Not when the anger, the hunger for justice, was burning inside me like a wildfire. And P Thun was the spark I was waiting for.

We moved swiftly, no wasted time. The first hit was clean—quick and efficient. We cornered his men before they even knew what hit them, and just like that, we were in. I felt the rush of it—the power, the control—as we made our way through the compound. The tension was thick in the air, every breath drawn with purpose. I could almost taste the bitterness of it on my tongue.

I glanced over my shoulder at Porsche, whose eyes were fixed on me, his expression unreadable. He was focused, intent on the mission, and I could see the determination in him as well. We were doing this together. No hesitation, no turning back.

We found P Thun in a room at the back of the compound, flanked by two of his men. His face, when he saw us, was a mix of disbelief and fear—exactly what I wanted. The tables had turned, and now, we were in charge. We had the upper hand.

"You're a dead man, P Thun," I said, my voice cold, steady. The words felt like they belonged to someone else—someone who wasn't holding back anymore. Someone who'd had enough of waiting, of playing by the rules.

He tried to speak, tried to plead, but I didn't let him. I moved in quickly, grabbing him by the collar, lifting him off the ground. His eyes widened, and I could see the fear in them. Good. Let him feel it. Let him understand the consequences of what he'd done.

"You think you can just play with people's lives?" I snarled, my grip tightening. "You think you can just walk away from the damage you've caused? No. Not anymore."

His words were a jumble of excuses, of lies, but I didn't care. Not anymore. I slammed him into the wall, the impact shaking the room, and he groaned in pain, but it didn't faze me. Nothing fazed me now. The rage inside me, the frustration, the years of waiting for this moment—it was all coming to a head, and I wasn't going to stop until I saw him pay.

Behind me, I could hear Porsche's footsteps, steady and deliberate. He was there, watching, but not interfering. I didn't need him to stop me. I needed him to be here with me. We were past the point of needing to talk about it, past whatever had happened. It was all about getting justice now.