Chapter 10: Under Pressure

The cold night air hit D's face like a slap as they approached the warehouse—a known stronghold of Jordan's. The streets outside were eerily quiet, but D could feel the heat of the city, the tension wrapping around them like a storm waiting to break. This wasn't just another mission. This was personal. The leak inside their crew, Jordan's impending retaliation, and the way Amir's presence had been both a comfort and a complication—it all swirled in D's mind as he walked toward the door, his every step filled with purpose.

Amir was close behind, his heavy boots thudding against the concrete, the only sound in the otherwise silent night. D could sense Amir's unease, the way his body was wound tight, ready to spring into action at any moment.

"You good?" D asked, his voice low, not wanting to break the fragile silence that surrounded them.

Amir didn't answer at first, his gaze fixed ahead. When he finally spoke, it was with a quiet intensity that D hadn't heard before. "Just thinking about how much we've been through, you know? And now, everything's falling apart."

D's lips pressed into a hard line. He didn't want to talk about it—not now, not when they were this close to the target. "Focus, Amir. We deal with this, and then we can think about the rest."

But Amir's words had already done something to him. Something inside D twisted. It wasn't just the mission anymore. It wasn't just about the crew or the betrayal. It was about Amir.

The way Amir was looking at him. The way their paths had crossed in the most unexpected ways. There was no denying it. The connection between them was real.

D pushed the thoughts aside. He had to. There was too much at stake.

---

**Inside the Warehouse:**

The team was already in position when D and Amir entered the dimly lit warehouse. The stench of old metal and the faint scent of oil hung in the air as they moved silently through the darkened aisles. Every creak of the floorboards, every echo off the walls, made D's senses sharper, his instincts on high alert.

"Everyone in position?" D whispered into the radio. Malik's voice crackled back almost immediately.

"Yeah. We're good. Just waiting on you."

D nodded, signaling Amir to follow him deeper into the warehouse. They had to find the leak. If Jordan had a mole in their ranks, they needed to neutralize the threat before they could deal with him directly.

But as they moved through the shadows, D couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. The air felt too still, the silence too perfect.

"D," Amir's voice broke through his thoughts, low and urgent. "We're not alone."

Before D could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from the far end of the warehouse. The familiar click of a gun being cocked made D's muscles tense, and his hand instinctively moved to the holster at his side.

"Stay low," D muttered to Amir as he crouched behind a stack of crates. Amir followed suit, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room for any sign of movement.

D's heart pounded in his chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to hit fast, hit hard, get the intel they needed, and get out. But something—someone—was throwing off their timing.

"Shit," D whispered under his breath.

---

**The Confrontation:**

A figure appeared in the doorway, the faint light from the streetlamps outside casting a long shadow. D's breath hitched when he saw who it was—Jordan's right-hand man, Tyrell. D had known Tyrell for years. They weren't friends, but they respected each other's game. Seeing him here, though, felt like a slap to the face.

Tyrell's cold eyes scanned the room as if he already knew exactly where they were hiding. "I was wondering when you'd show up," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Thought you'd be smarter than this, D."

D's fingers tightened around his weapon. "What are you doing here, Tyrell?"

Tyrell smirked, taking a step forward, his hand resting casually on the grip of his gun. "Just making sure you don't screw this up." He turned to look at Amir, his gaze flickering over him in a way that made D's blood run cold. "Didn't know you were bringing company. Nice to see you, Amir. Didn't think you'd be the one to run back to D."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. The weight of Tyrell's accusation was a blow that hit harder than any bullet could.

"Shut the fuck up," Amir snapped, stepping forward, his voice full of fury. But there was something else in his eyes, something darker, more dangerous.

D moved in front of Amir, his eyes never leaving Tyrell. "This is between me and you. Stay out of it."

Tyrell laughed, his voice dark and mocking. "I don't think you get it, D. This *is* between you and me. You've been played, and it's too late to fix it."

Before D could react, Tyrell signaled to someone in the shadows. The lights suddenly flickered on, blinding D for a moment. When his vision cleared, he saw the last thing he ever expected—Malik, standing next to Tyrell, his hands raised in surrender.

The betrayal hit D like a ton of bricks. Malik. The one person he thought he could trust. The one person who had been by his side through every battle, every fight.

"Malik?" D's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "You... you sold us out?"

Malik didn't answer. His eyes were cold, distant, like the man he once knew had disappeared.

"I didn't have a choice," Malik said finally, his voice flat. "You were too big of a target. And you were never gonna see this coming."

D's world spun for a moment. He wanted to fight. He wanted to tear Malik apart with his own hands, but he couldn't. Not now. There was too much on the line.

"D, we need to go," Amir's voice cut through the fog of rage clouding D's mind. "Now."

Before D could respond, Tyrell motioned to the door. "Get him out of here," he ordered Malik, his tone as cold as the steel in his hand.

Malik turned and walked away without another word, leaving D and Amir standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by the very people they'd trusted.

---

**Back at the Safe House:**

The crew was reeling from the betrayal, the weight of Malik's defection hanging over them like a dark cloud. But there was no time to dwell on it. D's mind was still racing, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

As he and Amir sat in the corner of the safe house, their eyes met, the silence between them almost suffocating. There was no room for words. Not after what they'd just seen.

"Tyrell's working with Jordan," Amir said finally, breaking the silence. "He knew about the leak all along."

D nodded, his jaw tight. "We've got to end this now. No more second chances."

The air between them shifted, thick with unspoken understanding. Their lives were more complicated now—far more complicated than they'd ever expected. And D wasn't sure how long they could keep pretending that the tension between them, the desire they both felt, could be ignored.

But now wasn't the time for that. There were bigger things at stake.

D stood up, heading toward the door. "We're not done, Amir. Not yet."

Amir didn't move right away, his eyes lingering on D as he walked out.

"Not yet," Amir echoed softly, his voice low and almost... hopeful.

---

**End of Chapter 10.**