
Boogie sat motionless in his car, parked at the edge of a vacant lot where the streetlight cut through the windshield like a dull blade. In his hand, the phone buzzed softly, for the third time in ten minutes, but he didn’t answer. He had seen the clip. There was no need for explanations, no need for words. Monica’s face, that smile, her eyes wet in another man’s arms, clearer than any verdict he had ever heard in court.
What he didn’t know was that someone else had seen the video too. Someone colder than him. More ruthless. And someone who loved him in a way twisted enough to be dangerous. Victor, his older brother. A cop with a face carved from stone and a code that bent justice to serve blood before law. When Victor entered the room and saw Boogie slumped over the table, his fists clenched to bleeding, he didn’t speak. He just picked up his coat. And his gun. The decision had already been made.