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It was already nighttime as the truck rattled down the Miami road, the city lights faint in the distance. Mike and Marcus sat crammed together, with Mike practically crushed against the window since the front seats only had three of them.

"Man, this seat was not made for my size," Marcus muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "Next time, I'm riding shotgun."

Cataleya, seated between Marcus and Armando, was noticeably tense. Her arms were crossed, and her elbow kept brushing against Armando's side. He didn't seem to notice—or if he did, he didn't show it. The atmosphere was thick, and for the first time in hours, they weren't bickering.

The silence dragged on until Armando, his hands tight on the steering wheel, finally broke it.

"Did you ever love her?" His voice was quiet, but it carried enough weight to pull everyone's attention.

Mike, who had been leaning back with his arms crossed, frowned. "What?"

"My mother," Armando clarified, his eyes fixed on the road. "Did you ever love her?"

Marcus leaned slightly toward Mike, whispering, "He's expressing."

Mike ignored him, his tone softening. "I definitely loved her."

Cataleya glanced at Armando, her brows knitting together. The hardened young man she was used to suddenly seemed... softer. Vulnerable, even. It was a side of him she hadn't seen in years.

"And then you sold her out." Armando replied, his voice cold.

Marcus winced, turning to Mike as if he could feel the sting of those words himself.

"I made some mistakes." Mike admitted, his tone low.

"Like me." Armando said bitterly, looking at him before returning his gaze to the road.

Mike sighed, shaking his head. "Now you know that is not what I was trying—"

"Hold on, wait a damn minute, Armando," Marcus interrupted, his tone shifting into the stern, fatherly voice he used whenever scolding his own daughter. "He's trying to make up for it. He don't owe you a damn thing."

"Marcus, hold on. Hold on." Mike said, holding up a hand. "You're just— You're being aggressive."

Marcus ignored him, leaning forward as he jabbed a finger in Armando's direction. "Nah, I've been a dad a long time. He needs some tough-ass love." He paused, his attention fully on Armando now. "Maybe he does owe you something. Your mom being deceived by him. You being born in prison, in a web of lies, that turned your ass into a stone-cold killer. And let's not forget—" he shifted his finger to Cataleya. "—her. Parents murdered, grew up depressed, raised by your mama and sent you two on missions which done fucked up her mentality, ran away on her own, and now she's sittin' here acting like life don't faze her."

Cataleya froze, her arms tightening over her chest as her scowl deepened.

Marcus ignored her. "And let's not forget the unobvious chemistry you two had in the past. Don't think I don't see it."

Both Armando and Cataleya turned their heads slowly, giving him identical looks of glares.

"Yeah, that's right," Marcus said, unbothered. "You two are killers, but this man—" he pointed to Mike "—through it all, has been nothing but solid."

Mike tilted his head, looking impressed. "That's some father-of-the-year shit right there."

Marcus raised a brow. "Is it?"

Before Mike could reply, the truck sputtered, jerking suddenly before rolling to a stop. The engine gave one last weak groan before going completely silent.

"You see?" Mike said, turning to Marcus. "Your wack-ass parenting just broke the truck."

"My bad." Marcus muttered.

Armando jagged in the ignition again, but the engine refused to start. Mike let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, this thing's dead. We're not far from Tabitah's anyway."

"Wait, hold up," Marcus said, his tone immediately concerned. "You're talking about that Tabitah?"

"Yeah, her." Mike replied.

"No, Mike. You know that woman's crazy."

"Yeah, but she likes me." Mike said with a smirk.

Marcus snorted. "I don't think she likes you as much as you think."

"The Pony's about two miles from here." Mike said, ignoring Marcus.

Armando, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke. "What's The Pony?"

Cataleya smirked faintly, his gaze flicking to her. "What a pure innocence in that heart of yours."

Armando raised a brow at her. "Wanna bet?"

"Yo, yo," Marcus interrupted, waving his hands. "We don't wanna hear whatever dirty-talk y'all got going on. Save that for another time. We're old men. Keep it PG."

"Or," Mike added with a grin, "save it for Tabitah's."

Marcus slapped his arm. "Man, you're gonna get us killed."

Cataleya rolled her eyes but suddenly frowned as something clicked in her mind. "Wait a second. He's your dad?" She asked, looking directly at Armando, then back at Mike.

Marcus chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. "Oh, I told you. This was gonna get more interesting."

Mike cleared his throat, glancing at Cataleya. "Newsflash." He said dryly, his expression giving away just a hint of awkwardness.

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The four walked into the strip club, its atmosphere heavy with pulsating music and dim neon lights that cast a hazy glow over the room. Armando hesitated at the rear of the group, clearly out of his element. He tugged his cap lower over his face, a feeble attempt to mask his discomfort and avoid being recognized.

Cataleya couldn't help but steal a glance at him. There was something endearing about his unease. He didn't seem to enjoy places like this, which mirrored her own feelings. It was a refreshing contrast.

The group pushed through glittering beaded curtains that framed the entrance, revealing a room teeming with scantily clad women. Lingerie of every style adorned their bodies, each exuding confidence and allure. Cataleya's gaze darted around uncomfortably, the setting far from her idea of appealing.

"I need my Instagram. I need my Friendster. I need more sex," came a raspy voice. The speaker was a striking woman with a buzzed blonde haircut slicked with gel. She wore a tight, short dress, and wads of cash peeked from her bra. She sauntered forward, her tone both commanding and playful. "I need more men in this club."

The woman was unmistakably Tabitah—the one they'd come to find.

"You all look beautiful," Tabitah called out, turning to address the women lounging around. Her gaze shifted to the newcomers. "Now, get back to work." At her order, several women rose and walked out, leaving only a few behind, seated at a nearby table. Tabitah clicked her tongue and offered a playful wink. "Mike Lowrey. Damn."

"What up, Tabitah?" Mike greeted smoothly, sliding onto the couch beside her. Marcus mirrored him, sitting on her other side.

Cataleya lingered near the entrance, her unease growing. The environment was far from her comfort zone, the blatant display of skin and suggestive atmosphere making her shift on her feet. She wasn't into the whole stripping scene, much less the exposure that came with it.

Armando, already seated across the couch from Tabitah, noticed Cataleya's hesitation. He clicked his tongue softly to catch her attention, then gave a subtle nod, gesturing for her to sit beside him. His calm demeanor seemed to offer reassurance.

Cataleya hesitated for a moment, inhaling deeply to steady herself before exhaling and walking over. She perched next to him, her posture stiff. Armando's leg rested casually on the couch, his arms draped over his knees as if he'd done this a hundred times before. His quiet confidence was oddly grounding.

"So, y'all in trouble, huh?" Tabitah's raspy voice cut through the tension.

"Yeah, uh, we need some help. Um—we need some clothes." Mike began, his tone careful.

"No shit." Tabitah replied, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took him in.

"A ride and some phones." Marcus chimed in, trying to smooth things over.

"Yeah. Guns, too," Armando added nonchalantly, causing the other three to glance at him with mild surprise.

"Knives wouldn't disappoint." Cataleya muttered under her breath, her hand instinctively brushing the hilt of the blade concealed at her side.

Mike gestured between them, breaking the tension. "Uh, that's my son. That's Armando. And that's Cataleya—a good partner of ours."

"You got yourself a little Spanish son?" Tabitah's brows shot up in surprise.

"Yeah, it's a long story," Mike replied. Armando offered a polite nod in Tabitah's direction as a quiet acknowledgment. "So, can you hook us up?"

"I mean, I got all that, but what are you gonna do for me?" Tabitah leaned back against the couch, her gaze challenging.

"What you mean? We good for that." Mike said, leaning in slightly.

"You were," Tabitah said, her tone turning icy. "But you guys are men on the run now." Her sharp eyes flicked to Cataleya, who met her gaze with a calm, steely expression. "Including this mami over here." A slow, knowing smirk crept across Tabitah's lips. "Why ain't you joining us yet?"

Cataleya's brow furrowed, her jaw tightening as the tension in the room ratcheted up. The other three men tensed visibly.

"I mean, you got all that body and a face that could make men lose their minds," Tabitah said lazily, her finger pointing toward Armando. "He could maybe use a free pass outta you."

Armando's brows knitted together, his gaze flicking down to Cataleya. Her hand flexed at her side, itching to grab the knife she was doing her best to ignore. And yet, Armando didn't seem as offended by the comment as she was—an observation that only fueled her frustration.

Mike steered the conversation back on track. "Well, what do you need?" His tone was clipped, his patience wearing thin.

"What do I need?" Tabitah repeated, her grin widening as she leaned closer. "I need you to eat this pussy."

Mike recoiled slightly, his face a mix of disbelief and exasperation. He glanced at Marcus, whose eyebrows shot up in amused shock. "Oh!"

Armando shifted uncomfortably, tilting his head in visible confusion and disgust. Meanwhile, Cataleya flushed a deep shade of red, fighting the urge to either laugh or cringe.

"I'm not doing that, alright?" Mike said firmly.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on, Mike," Marcus interjected, holding up a hand as he chuckled. "Think about this." He turned to Tabitah, his tone turning conspiratorial. "Now, you said guns and phones, right?" Tabitah hummed in affirmation. "Okay, well, look, you know Mike's a married man."

"So?" Tabitah cocked an unimpressed brow.

Cataleya leaned forward slightly, clearly fed up with the conversation, but a strong hand landed on her shoulder, holding her back. Armando gave her a subtle shake of his head, silently urging her to stay calm.

"So, he's gonna need plausible deniability," Marcus continued, ignoring the tension. He turned to Mike with a mischievous grin. "So I'm gonna have you lay down, stick out your tongue, and then... you're just gonna have to do the rest."

Tabitah's grin turned predatory. "I can fuck with that," she said, her hand trailing down Mike's cheek. "Oh yeah, go on, baby."

"Marcus, no." Mike said, his tone laced with irritation.

"All you gotta do is close your eyes." Marcus teased, mimicking the motion by shutting his eyes and wagging his tongue.

Cataleya stifled a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'm gonna need pictures," Tabitah said, pulling out her phone. "You know how to take pictures, right?" She asked Marcus.

"Hey, we don't have a lot of time." Mike snapped, his voice rising with frustration.

"What?" Tabitah retorted.

"I need you to stop fucking around." Mike said, his tone deadly serious.

Tabitah raised a brow, unbothered. "Oh, I'm not fucking around." She said, scrolling on her phone.

Mike pushed up from the couch, turning to Armando. "Alright, let's go." He said, motioning for him to follow.

"Wait, hold up." Armando tried to protest, but before they could leave, several women stood abruptly, pulling out guns.

"Sit your motherfucking ass down." Tabitah barked, standing on the couch and leveling her gun at them.

Cataleya eyed the stripper up & down that pointed her gun to her & Armando.

"Tabitah, what are you doing?" Mike asked, raising his hands cautiously.

"What am I doing? Sit your married ass down!" she snapped. "And y'all, too!" She motioned her gun at the rest of the group. "Everybody sit down!" Tabitah pulled her phone to her ear, her gaze gleaming with malicious intent. Cataleya narrowed her eyes, watching the woman carefully. "Hey, I got the bad boys right here." Tabitah said into the phone, her tone smug. "And don't forget that sexy mami they brought with them. Let's get that money."

"Hey, Tab." Mike tried, his voice incredulous.

"Shut the fuck up." She snapped.

Marcus furrowed his brow. "Hold up, I'm confused," he said. "You didn't want him to licky-licky?"

Tabitah rolled her eyes. "There's a five-million-dollar bounty on your heads." She said, her grin sharp as a knife. "I was just stalling."

"That's cold," Marcus muttered, shaking his head. "He almost did that shit." He examined, pointing to Mike.

"He did not, Marcus," Mike snapped.

"Told you she didn't like you." Marcus added, shaking his head.

"Puttana." Cataleya muttered under her breath, her tone venomous.

Tabitah turned her sharp gaze on her. "What'd you say?"

Marcus quickly interjected, laughing nervously. "She's from Mexico. You know how they just randomly start saying stuff in Spanish, right, Mike?" He glanced at Cataleya. "She's just grumpy all the time."

Just then, several men entered the room, each armed and ready. "Get the fuck up." They did as they were told & faced the man. One stepped up to Mike, leaning in close. "The bounty is dead or alive," he hissed. Moving to Marcus, he added, "Don't be stupid."

The group exchanged tense glances before moving in their feet. Armando and Cataleya followed suit as they were herded toward the exit.

"Hey, Armando," Tabitah called out, stopping him. "If you live, I'll let you—" She trailed off, running her tongue slowly across her lips with a soft moan.

Armando blinked, visibly confused. "What?"

"I said, if you live, motherfucker! Holler up." Tabitah snapped, raising her gun toward him.

As soon as Tabitah's vulgar offer left her mouth, Cataleya froze mid-step. Her sharp eyes narrowed, and a low scoff escaped her lips. She turned her head just slightly, enough for her glare to lock onto Tabitah. Her posture stiffened, and her jaw tightened as if biting back the words clawing at her throat.

But the restraint didn't last long. "You've got some nerve." Cataleya muttered under her breath, the venom in her tone unmistakable. Her hand twitched, inching dangerously close to the knife she always kept tucked at her side.

Armando, sensing the shift in her energy, glanced at her. "Let it go." He murmured softly, his calm voice cutting through the tension. His hand brushed hers briefly—not intentionally, but enough to anchor her.

Cataleya clicked her tongue and took a slow breath, forcing her hand to drop. "I don't take orders from you." She shot back, but her voice was quieter this time, restrained.

Tabitah, clearly amused, leaned forward, her grin mocking as she scanned Cataleya from head to toe. "Aw, what's the matter, Mami? Don't like sharing? I mean, can't blame you. He's a snack." She winked at Armando, who visibly recoiled in disgust, his brow furrowing.

Cataleya's lips curled into a smirk, but there was nothing kind about it. She turned fully to face Tabitah, her head tilting as if sizing her up. "No, I don't share," she said, her voice dripping with ice. "Especially not with cheap trash."

The room seemed to still as the insult hung in the air. Marcus and Mike, who had been trying to process their situation, exchanged nervous glances.

"Shit," Marcus muttered under his breath. "She's about to go full telenovela up in here."

Tabitah's smirk disappeared, and her gaze sharpened, her hand tightening around her gun. "What did you just say to me?"

Cataleya stepped forward, her head tilting with a confidence that dared Tabitah to make a move. "You heard me."

Before Tabitah could reply, Armando stepped between them, his tall frame blocking Cataleya entirely. His calm, measured demeanor didn't falter, though his voice carried a warning edge. "You've got what you wanted, Tabitah. The bounty. You don't need to start anything else." His gaze flicked to her gun. "And you sure as hell don't want to test her. Trust me."

Tabitah studied him for a moment before letting out a loud, exaggerated laugh. "Oh, I like you, chico. You're smooth." She pointed her gun lazily at him. "But I don't take orders from anyone either. Especially not from a baby-faced killer with mommy issues."

Cataleya surged forward instinctively, but Armando's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist to stop her. "Not here." He said under his breath, his tone steady but firm. His dark eyes bore into hers, and for a split second, it was as if they were the only two in the room.

Cataleya's glare softened ever so slightly. She didn't reply but didn't pull away from him either. She took a step back, though her defiance lingered in her expression.

Tabitah smirked again, clearly enjoying herself. "Good dog." She said mockingly, her gaze on Armando.

Cataleya's hands balled into fists at her sides, but she didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she leaned closer to Armando & muttered, "Next time, I'm slitting her throat."

"Noted." He replied evenly, though there was a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Mike, desperate to defuse the tension, cleared his throat loudly. "Alright, we're done here. Let's get this over with before someone does something we can't take back."

Marcus added quickly. "Yeah, I second that. I ain't trying to end up in a body bag over some crazy-ass lady with glitter curtains."

Tabitah, still perched on the couch, chuckled darkly. "Get moving, boys. And don't let me catch you slipping." Her eyes lingered on Cataleya one last time before waving them off dismissively.

As they were ushered out by the armed men, Cataleya walked in silence, her shoulders tense. Armando kept pace with her, glancing her way occasionally. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke.

"You okay?"

Cataleya didn't look at him but muttered under her breath, "I hate people like her."

"Yeah," Armando said with a faint nod. "So do I."

The group continued walking in tense silence, the sounds of the city night growing louder as they moved farther from Tabitah's lair.

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