The interrogation room was stark, its fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow on the metal table where Elias and Lila sat, their hands cuffed. Matthew and Vinny stood across from them, the weight of betrayal heavy in the air.
"Start talking," Matthew said, his voice cold.
Elias shifted uncomfortably. "Tom's planning something big. He's going to release a series of deepfake videos to discredit you both, making it look like you're involved in criminal activities."
Lila nodded. "He's also manipulating the media, spreading false narratives to turn the public against you."
Vinny clenched his fists. "We trusted you. How could you betray us?"
"We didn't have a choice," Lila whispered. "Tom threatened our families."
Matthew exchanged a glance with Vinny. "We need to get ahead of this. Expose Tom's plans before he can execute them."
In the following days, Tom's campaign of misinformation intensified. Social media was flooded with doctored videos and articles painting Matthew and Vinny as corrupt and dangerous. Public opinion began to sway, and their reputations took a hit.
Vinny sat alone in their apartment, staring at the news reports. Guilt gnawed at him. "This is all my fault," he muttered.
Matthew entered, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We'll get through this. Together."
"I dragged you into this mess," Vinny said, his voice breaking.
"You didn't drag me anywhere," Matthew replied firmly. "I chose to stand by you."
That night, they received a call. One of their allies had been attacked, left in critical condition. A message was found at the scene: "Back off, or more will follow."
Vinny's eyes hardened. "Tom's making this personal."
Matthew nodded. "Then it's time we end this."
The air in the apartment had grown heavier in the days following the attack on their ally. It was suffocating, filled with unspoken fears and spiraling thoughts. Vinny paced the living room like a trapped animal, while Matthew sat in silence, his laptop open but forgotten on the kitchen counter. News anchors blared in the background, voices crackling with scandal, deception, and Tom's perfectly timed media manipulation.
Vinny stopped pacing and turned sharply. "Why are you just sitting there?"
Matthew's gaze remained fixed on the screen, unreadable. "What do you want me to do, Vinny? We've already exposed as much of Tom's plan as we can without drawing more blood."
"More blood?" Vinny barked, incredulous. "Someone nearly died because of us, Matt! Because of this game we're playing."
"This isn't a game," Matthew snapped, standing abruptly. His voice was low, sharp like a blade drawn. "Don't pretend like you weren't part of this from the start."
"Oh, don't you dare." Vinny's fists clenched at his sides. "I didn't ask for Tom to go nuclear. I didn't ask for fake headlines or dead allies or to feel like I'm drowning every time I breathe!"
Matthew's mouth set in a hard line. "So you regret it, then? All of it?"
Vinny flinched. "That's not what I—"
Matthew cut him off, voice rising. "Because if you do, say it now. I'd rather hear the truth than pretend like this is still salvageable."
For a moment, all Vinny could do was stare at him. The same man who had held him up, kissed him like he was oxygen, made him believe that despite everything they had done—there was still something beautiful to fight for. Now, he looked like a stranger wearing Matthew's skin.
"I don't regret you," Vinny said, his voice cracking. "But I regret what this is turning me into."
Matthew's expression softened just a fraction. "You think I don't feel that too? Every goddamn day, Vinny. But what are we supposed to do—run?"
Vinny turned away, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe we leave all this behind. Maybe we start over somewhere no one knows our names."
A beat of silence. Then, softly, Matthew replied, "That's not who we are. You wouldn't leave your people behind. And I wouldn't leave you to burn alone."
Vinny closed his eyes. "Then what are we doing?"
"We're fighting," Matthew said, stepping closer. "Fighting for something that still matters. Even if we're exhausted. Even if we break."
Another long pause stretched between them like a brittle thread.
Then Vinny muttered, "I'm scared, Matt."
It was the first time he'd admitted it out loud.
Matthew's face broke—finally, finally broke. "So am I."
The words hung there, raw and exposed. In that moment, neither of them were fighters or lovers or villains—they were just two boys trying to survive a war they never asked for.
Vinny moved first. A slow, shaky step forward.
And then they were in each other's arms. It wasn't passionate—it wasn't even romantic. It was desperate. The kind of hug that came after a funeral, after a storm, after burying too many truths.
"I don't want to lose you," Vinny whispered against Matthew's neck.
"You won't," Matthew promised, voice cracking. "Not even if the world burns."
The walls didn't fall. The war wasn't over. But in that fragile, stolen moment, they found something solid.
Each other.
The rain hadn't stopped for three days.
It drizzled outside the safehouse windows, a constant whisper reminding everyone that time was running out. Inside, the tension simmered like a kettle about to scream. Matthew sat across from Vinny at the long oak table that had become their war room. The floor was strewn with old files, photographs, news clippings, and hastily scribbled notes. Red string connected certain faces on the board behind them. Most paths led back to Tom.
And now, a new path was forming—a coded message intercepted from Elias's abandoned burner phone. Delivered with precision and venom.
Vinny ran a hand through his curls, visibly shaken. "You think he meant for us to find this?"
Matthew didn't answer at first. His jaw flexed. "He always means for us to find everything. It's all a performance to him."
Vinny didn't reply. He was still recovering from the emotional blowout the night before. The vulnerability they'd shared—raw, painful, intimate—still lingered like bruises on the surface of their dynamic. But now wasn't the time to fall apart.
"We need more than just each other this time," Matthew finally said, dragging a folder toward him. "He's gathering people. We do the same."
Vinny looked up. "You really think we can trust anyone after what Elias and Lila pulled?"
"No," Matthew said flatly. "But we don't have a choice."
The first call they made was to Cam, Vinny's old flame turned freelance information broker. Once upon a time, Cam would've set the world on fire for Vinny. Now, he only answered after three missed calls and two encrypted messages.
His voice came through the speaker—wry, familiar, dangerous.
"I thought you two were ghosts by now."
"Sorry to disappoint," Vinny said. "I need your help, Cam. One last job."
Cam laughed, but there was a tightness behind it. "Is this about Tom? That bastard's been making waves on the dark web. People are scared. I've got chatter about a purge coming. Something big."
Matthew stepped in. "Then you know what's at stake. This isn't personal anymore."
"That's the problem," Cam said. "With you two, it's always personal."
Despite the barb, Cam agreed. He'd meet them in person within forty-eight hours, in a neutral zone. Vinny exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for a year. One down.
The second contact was harder—Silas.
Silas had been part of Matthew's past, a brutal tactician and enforcer who disappeared after their last mission ended in a body count. They hadn't spoken in years, not since Matthew left the underground network behind and tried to build a new life—one Vinny had barged into and complicated.
Vinny found Silas through an old hacker named Neon. When Silas picked up, there was a pause.
"I'm not in that game anymore."
"You were never out of it," Matthew replied. "You just got good at pretending."
Silas sighed. "What does he want this time?"
"Blood," Matthew said simply. "He's manipulating the media. Framing us. We need backup."
There was another pause. Then: "You've got three days to convince me. I'll send a location."
Matthew hung up. Two down.
Vinny sat back, watching Matthew work the room like chess. "You know," he murmured, "it's kind of hot watching you pull strings again."
Matthew raised a brow. "You call this hot?"
Vinny leaned closer, voice low. "You're dangerous when you're focused."
Matthew didn't smirk, but there was a flicker in his eyes. "Remind me to use that later."
But before the heat could bloom between them, the alert system blinked on the computer. A new file had arrived. No sender. Encrypted. Familiar.
Tom's style.
Vinny clicked it open, pulse racing. A video file began to play.
At first, only static. Then Tom's face appeared—half-shadowed, smiling in a way that made the air feel colder. He was in a lavish room, all marble and gold trim, like a king preparing for war.
"Hello, darlings," Tom drawled. "I hope Elias and Lila were useful. I meant for them to be."
Vinny gritted his teeth. Matthew leaned in.
"You've done well to make it this far. But we're not finished yet. Not even close." Tom's smile faded. "You took something from me, Vinny. And Matthew… you betrayed me long before you realized it."
Vinny felt his throat close up.
"But don't worry. I'm not mad. I just want the ending to be… poetic."
He lifted a photograph to the screen. It was one of their old allies—Ivy, a journalist who had helped them leak the truth months ago. She was bound and bruised, gagged in some kind of cellar.
Matthew's fists clenched.
"This is your warning," Tom said softly. "One more move… and I'll make sure everyone you've ever trusted dies screaming."
The feed cut.
Silence.
Then, Vinny slammed his hand into the table. "He's escalating. He wants us scared—reactive."
Matthew was already moving. "No more reacting. We hit back."
Vinny grabbed his arm. "Not yet. We play it smart. If we go in blind—"
"I'm not letting Ivy die," Matthew snapped.
Vinny didn't flinch. "And I'm not letting you die."
Their eyes locked.
And in that moment, the war between them and Tom crystallized into something unmovable.
This was the beginning of the end.
They didn't sleep that night.
Instead, they mapped every connection Ivy ever had. Checked every abandoned building, every known Tom affiliate. Cam called in mid-search, offering a decrypted clue from the video—coordinates traced to the outskirts of the city, a forgotten estate once owned by Tom's family.
Bingo.
They'd hit it by the end of the week.
But until then, they prepared.
Vinny spent the night cleaning guns, checking gear, avoiding his own reflection. When he finally did look up, he caught Matthew watching him—quiet, steady, something tender lurking in those pale eyes.
"You okay?" Matthew asked.
Vinny hesitated. "No."
A beat. Then Matthew crossed the room and wrapped his arms around him. No words. Just warmth.
Vinny closed his eyes.
For the first time in weeks, they allowed themselves a moment to be human.
But it wouldn't last.
The next chapter was already being written—in blood and betrayal.
And the final act was nearly here.