Calculated Vengeance

Dante

The smell of gunpowder clung to my jacket. It was sharp and metallic in my nostrils, mingling with the faint sting of disinfectant that hadn't left since Cassian stitched my shoulder.

The warehouse was supposed to be empty.

But Hector never played fair.

I leaned back into the armchair, the leather cool against my back, trying not to mind the throbbing under my bandage. Standing across from m