HE COMES AT NIGHT

1

The dim, flickering lights of the warehouse cast long, jagged shadows across the cold concrete floor. The air reeked of oil and rust, mixed with the sharp scent of blood. Armando stood in the center of the room, his chest rising and falling heavily, the knuckles of his hands raw and slick with crimson. Before him, slumped in a broken chair, was a man gasping for breath, his face barely recognizable from the brutal beating he had just endured.

Armando’s gaze was dark, hollow, devoid of mercy as he wiped a streak of blood from his jawline. He towered over the man, his body taut with tension, every inch of him screaming dominance. Around him, his men formed a silent circle, watching as their leader dealt out his version of justice—cold, relentless, and terrifying.

The man in the chair, his body shaking from pain, coughed weakly, spitting out a mixture of blood and broken teeth. "P-please…" he whimpered, his voice barely a rasp.

Armando tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Please?" he repeated softly, his voice low, almost a growl. He took a slow step forward, the sound of his boots echoing in the stillness. "Do you think begging will fix the mess you've made?"

There was no answer, just the agonized gasping of a man teetering on the edge of consciousness. Armando grabbed the man's hair, yanking his head back to force him to meet his eyes.

"You cost me a lot, and you think I'll let that slide?!" Armando's voice snapped, his hand tightening, forcing the man to look up at him, eyes wide with terror. "I told you what would happen if you crossed me."

With a swift, brutal punch to the man’s jaw, Armando let go, sending him crashing to the floor, the sickening sound of his body hitting the concrete loud in the warehouse’s silence. He stood over him, breathing hard, his knuckles bleeding from the sheer force of the blows. The room remained eerily silent, none of his men daring to move, every one of them knowing that Armando's rage was a storm no one should stand in the way of.

Just as he was about to deliver the final blow, Alexander’s phone rang. The sharp, intrusive sound sliced through the air, interrupting the heavy stillness. Armando froze, his eyes narrowing dangerously, his bloodshot gaze shifting to his right-hand man.

Alexander fumbled with the phone, muttering a quick apology as he stepped back to answer. "This better be important," Armando hissed through clenched teeth, his mood already on the verge of exploding.

Alexander spoke quietly into the phone, his face growing increasingly serious. As he listened, his eyes flicked nervously toward Armando, who was glaring at him with the intensity of a caged animal ready to lash out.

Armando's patience was razor-thin. He clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking audibly, barely able to control the burning rage coursing through him. He was about to snap when Alexander's voice broke the tension.

"Boss… it's Dante. There's been an incident… at your house."

Armando froze, his eyes locking onto Alexander. "What?" His voice was low, dangerous, like the calm before a storm. He took a slow, measured step toward Alexander, his body tense.

"Dante just called. Someone tried to break in," Alexander said quickly. "Jessica's safe, but—"

Armando’s blood ran cold. He didn’t hear the rest of Alexander’s words. His mind was already racing, the warehouse, the man lying broken on the floor, his men—they all vanished from his thoughts. The only thing that mattered now was his family.

His heart pounded violently in his chest as he reached into his jacket, frantically searching for his phone. His fingers fumbled against the fabric, his movements suddenly panicked. He hadn’t checked it in the past hour, too lost in his rage to notice the notification. When he finally pulled it out, his screen lit up with the alert he had programmed himself—an emergency signal from the safe button Jessica had pressed.

An hour ago.

His jaw clenched, muscles tensing painfully as his thumb swiped across the screen, revealing the notification in a cold, flashing red.

Safe Button Activated.

His heart dropped into his stomach. An hour ago. He had been unreachable for an hour while his wife and child had been in danger.

"Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me sooner?" Armando growled, his voice filled with fury and guilt. His eyes flashed dangerously, darting between Alexander and the rest of his men, but deep down, he knew it was on him. He had deliberately distanced himself from the family for their safety. But now, it had all blown up in his face.

"We couldn’t reach you, Boss," Alexander replied, his tone cautious. He knew better than to make excuses when Armando was like this. "Dante handled it. The threat’s been neutralized."

Armando’s breathing quickened as panic, something he never let himself feel, crept in. His mind raced with images of Jessica, of Alvaro, of the danger he had brought to their doorstep. He shoved his phone into his pocket, his eyes still burning with the violence of a moment before.

Without another word, Armando stormed out of the warehouse, his men quickly falling into formation behind him, but they kept their distance. They could sense the tempest brewing inside their leader.

As Armando headed for his car, a thousand thoughts ran through his mind, but one thing was clear: this was a warning, a reminder that no matter how hard he tried to separate his two worlds, they would always collide.

And this time, they had come for his family.

The tires screeched as his car tore out of the warehouse’s lot, speeding into the night. The rage in his chest was no longer directed at the man he had just beaten. It was now focused on whoever had dared to threaten the only thing that truly mattered to him. Jessica and Alvaro.

And whoever it was, Armando swore they would pay in blood.