The morning air in Manila was thick with humidity, a heavy reminder of the storms brewing in the city—and in their lives. The Montemayor estate buzzed with activity. Men in sharp suits loaded crates into unmarked trucks, their movements precise and calculated. Emilio stood by the grand staircase of the mansion, his father's voice echoing in his ears.
"Emilio," Don Montemayor said, his tone sharp. "Pay attention."
Emilio snapped out of his daze, straightening. His father stood before him, flanked by two of his most trusted lieutenants. Don Montemayor was a man who commanded respect, his presence as imposing as the empire he had built.
"This shipment is critical to our operations," Don Montemayor continued. "You'll oversee the transfer at the docks tonight. No mistakes."
"Yes, Papa," Emilio said, though his heart wasn't in it.
As his father turned to bark orders at the men, Emilio's thoughts drifted to Angelo. He hadn't seen him since their meeting by the river two nights ago. Angelo's warning had been clear, and it haunted Emilio like a ghost.
Across Town
Angelo paced the cramped room he shared with three other boys, his mind racing. Tito Salazar had been unusually quiet since announcing the ambush. The silence unnerved Angelo more than the shouting ever did.
He glanced at the small pendant Emilio had given him, which now hung around his neck, hidden beneath his shirt. The memory of Emilio's eyes—filled with both fear and determination—kept replaying in his mind.
"You look like hell," said Mario, one of Salazar's men, as he entered the room.
"Thanks," Angelo muttered.
Mario leaned against the doorframe, lighting a cigarette. "Tito wants you at the docks tonight. Says you're the one who knows the Montemayors best."
Angelo felt his stomach churn. "What time?"
"Midnight. Don't be late," Mario said before disappearing back into the hallway.
Angelo sat down on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. He needed a plan, something that would keep Emilio safe without blowing his cover. But every scenario he thought of ended in bloodshed.
The Calm Before the Storm
As night fell, Emilio stood in front of a cracked mirror, adjusting his jacket. He hated the way it fit, the way it made him look like one of his father's soldiers.
"Ready?" Sofia's voice startled him.
He turned to see her leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Emilio said.
Sofia studied him for a moment before stepping closer. "You don't have to do this, you know."
"I don't have a choice," Emilio said, his voice tinged with bitterness.
"You always have a choice," Sofia said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small revolver. "Take this. Just in case."
Emilio hesitated before taking the gun. "Thank you."
"Be careful," Sofia said, her voice softer now. "I mean it."
Emilio nodded, slipping the revolver into his jacket. As he left the room, he couldn't shake the feeling that he might not come back.
The Docks
The docks were eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the waves lapping against the wooden piers. Emilio arrived with a convoy of trucks, the Montemayor men fanning out to secure the area.
Angelo watched from the shadows, his heart pounding. He had arrived an hour earlier, hiding among the crates and barrels. He could see Emilio, his face illuminated by the dim light of a nearby lantern.
Tito's voice crackled through the earpiece Angelo wore. "Wait for my signal," Tito said. "We hit them when they're halfway through unloading."
Angelo clenched his fists. He needed to find a way to warn Emilio without tipping off Tito.
As the Montemayor men began unloading the crates, Angelo saw his chance. He slipped out of the shadows, moving silently toward Emilio.
"Montemayor," he whispered.
Emilio spun around, his hand instinctively going to the revolver in his jacket. When he saw Angelo, his eyes widened.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Emilio hissed.
"There's no time," Angelo said. "You need to get your men out of here. Now."
Emilio frowned. "I can't just leave. My father—"
"Your father isn't here," Angelo interrupted. "And if you don't listen to me, none of you will be alive when he finds out."
Emilio hesitated, his mind racing. He wanted to trust Angelo, but the stakes were too high.
"Why are you doing this?" Emilio asked.
"Because I care about you," Angelo said, his voice barely audible.
Emilio's breath caught in his throat. He opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of gunfire cut him off.
The Ambush
Chaos erupted as Salazar's men stormed the docks, their guns blazing. Emilio ducked behind a stack of crates, pulling Angelo down with him.
"Stay here," Emilio said, pulling out his revolver.
"Are you crazy?" Angelo said. "You'll get yourself killed!"
"I can't just sit here," Emilio said. "These are my people."
Angelo grabbed his arm, his eyes pleading. "And you're mine."
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion. Emilio stared at Angelo, his resolve wavering.
Before he could respond, a bullet whizzed past them, shattering the crate above their heads.
"We need to move," Angelo said, pulling Emilio to his feet.
The two of them weaved through the chaos, dodging bullets and trying to avoid being seen. Angelo led Emilio to a small storage shed near the edge of the docks, slamming the door shut behind them.
"We can't stay here," Emilio said, his chest heaving.
"I know," Angelo said. "But we need a plan."
Emilio paced the small space, his mind racing. "We need to split up. If they see us together—"
"No," Angelo said firmly. "I'm not leaving you."
Emilio stopped, turning to face him. "Why are you doing this? Why risk everything for me?"
Angelo took a step closer, his voice steady. "Because I can't imagine a world without you in it."
Emilio's eyes softened, but before he could respond, the door burst open.
The Confrontation
Tito Salazar stood in the doorway, his gun aimed at Angelo. Behind him, two of his men flanked the entrance, their weapons trained on Emilio.
"Well, well," Tito said, his lips curling into a sneer. "I knew there was something off about you, Angelo. But I never expected this."
"Tito, I—" Angelo began, but Tito cut him off.
"Save it," Tito said. "I don't care about your excuses. What I care about is loyalty. And you just proved you don't have any."
He turned to Emilio, his expression cold. "And you. The Montemayor prince. Looks like I just hit the jackpot."
Angelo stepped in front of Emilio, his hands raised. "Let him go, Tito. This has nothing to do with him."
Tito laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "You really think I'm going to let either of you walk out of here alive?"
Before anyone could react, Emilio lunged forward, knocking Tito's gun aside. The weapon went off, the bullet embedding itself in the wall.
Angelo grabbed a metal pipe from the floor, swinging it at one of Tito's men. The man went down with a grunt, but the other raised his gun, aiming it at Emilio.
"No!" Angelo shouted, throwing himself in front of Emilio.
The gun went off, the sound deafening in the small space.
A Price Paid
Angelo stumbled, a sharp pain spreading through his side. He fell to his knees, blood seeping through his shirt.
"Angelo!" Emilio cried, catching him before he hit the ground.
Tito raised his gun again, but before he could fire, Emilio pulled out his revolver and shot him in the leg. Tito collapsed with a scream, clutching his wound.
Emilio turned to the remaining man, his eyes blazing. "Leave. Now."
The man hesitated before dropping his weapon and running.
With the danger gone, Emilio turned his attention back to Angelo.
"You're going to be okay," Emilio said, his voice shaking.
Angelo smiled weakly. "You're terrible at lying."
Emilio tore a strip of fabric from his shirt, pressing it against Angelo's wound. "Stay with me," he said, his voice desperate. "Please."
Angelo's eyes fluttered closed, but he managed a faint whisper. "Always."