Meeting Danger

Tracey didn't know exactly why, but something inside her told her to follow Vincent that night. It was as if every action of his in the past few weeks had been shrouded in mystery, and she could no longer bear it. So, when she saw him leave the house in the middle of the night without saying a word, she decided to follow him, keeping her car far enough away not to be detected.

The route led her to an industrial area near Los Santos Port. Upon seeing Vincent stop in front of an isolated warehouse and enter through a side door, Tracey didn't hesitate to park her car behind a container and walk toward the same door. She pushed it slightly, and upon entering the warehouse, the first thing she felt was an immediate tension.

A metallic click stopped her dead in her tracks.

She looked up and found herself face to face with a Glock 19, equipped with a silencer, pointed directly at her head.

"Vincent!" she exclaimed in a choked whisper, freezing in place.

Vincent looked at her with a stern expression, his jaw tense as he held the gun steady. But upon recognizing his sister, his eyes changed, showing a mix of surprise and concern. After a few seconds, he slowly lowered the weapon, but the atmosphere remained charged with tension.

"Come in," he said in a deep voice, opening the door a bit wider for her to enter.

Tracey stepped inside, and as she closed the door behind her, what she saw left her speechless.

The warehouse looked like an old industrial building from the outside, but inside it was a sophisticated operations base. The concrete walls had been covered with shiny black panels, and blue LED lights illuminated the space with a modern and cold air. On one side of the warehouse, several metal shelves displayed rows upon rows of perfectly organized weapons. Among them, Tracey recognized some models: FN SCAR assault rifles, Barrett M82 sniper rifles, M249 light machine guns, and pistols like the Glock that her brother had just pointed at her. There were other exotic weapons she had never seen before.

In addition to the weapons, there were giant screens mounted on the walls displaying what seemed to be maps of the city and traffic communication graphs. Black leather sofas and a glass table with bottles of expensive liquor completed the scene. This place was not just a warehouse but a neat and efficient operations base, created for someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

"What is this?" Tracey murmured, looking around in shock.

Vincent didn't respond immediately. He holstered the Glock at his waist and slowly approached one of the weapon racks, running his hand over a box of ammunition.

"You shouldn't be here, Tracey."

"And what did you expect me to do? You left home, you haven't talked to Mom or Dad, and when I finally find you, you're... here. What is all this, Vincent?" Tracey looked at him with wide eyes, disbelief painted on her face. "Since when are you involved in this?"

Vincent sighed, leaning against one of the shelves, his gaze downcast.

"For longer than you think. This isn't something new; it's just that... I couldn't hide it anymore."

"Hide it anymore? This isn't something you can just hide!" Tracey gestured broadly, pointing to the weapons, the screens, all the high-tech equipment. "What are you doing with all this? What have you gotten into?"

Vincent finally looked at her, his expression hardened, but his eyes reflected genuine concern for her.

"Business, Tracey. What I'm doing now is business, and it's not something I want you involved in."

"Business? Is that what you call this?" Tracey shook her head, unable to process the situation. "Look where we are. This looks like a criminal hideout, not your normal job."

"It's much more complicated than that. It's not something you can understand without seeing it from the inside," Vincent stepped away from the shelf, walking toward one of the tables cluttered with papers. "What I'm doing is making sure we never have to depend on anyone again. Not Dad, not his money, not his control."

Tracey followed him with her gaze, furious and confused. Her mind was in chaos, trying to piece together a puzzle she had never expected to face. What had her brother become?

"And this is how you do it? With weapons? With a secret base? Vincent, are you crazy? Mom and Dad would be heartbroken if they knew what you were involved in."

Vincent sighed, his expression hardened, but when he spoke, his tone was softer.

"Tracey... I'm doing all this to protect you. To protect the family. I'm not the same boy you knew, but I'm still your brother. I just want you to be safe."

Tracey looked him in the eyes, struggling to understand. The weight of his words was crushing her.

"How will I be safe if you keep getting involved in this? What if something happens to you?"

Vincent stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Nothing is going to happen to me. I won't allow anyone to hurt you. But you have to trust me, Tracey. This is the real world. Here, you either adapt, or you get eaten alive."

Tracey felt a knot in her stomach as she watched him walk away. She knew she had lost her brother in some way. What stood before her was no longer the same Vincent she had grown up with. This was someone different, hardened by the world he had chosen to live in.

"Just promise me you won't get hurt," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Vincent paused for a moment, concern clear in his gaze.

"I promise you. I'll do whatever it takes to protect you. I always will."

With those words, silence reclaimed the space. Tracey knew there was nothing more she could say at that moment. She turned and walked out of the warehouse, feeling the weight of what she had just discovered.

Vincent followed her, closing the door behind him. He walked silently toward his car and glanced at her.

"I'll take you home," he said simply.

Tracey nodded, still processing everything she had just discovered. She got into the car, the atmosphere tense and charged as Vincent started the engine and took the road back to the city. The silence between them was deafening, and Tracey felt that the distance between them had never been greater.

They had barely traveled a few blocks when suddenly, two motorcycles emerged from nowhere, blocking the road. The riders, armed, pointed guns at them.

"Vincent..." Tracey murmured, terrified.

Vincent said nothing. Quickly, he pulled out his Glock 19 with a silencer from the glove compartment, slightly opened the door, and, with surprising calm, began to return fire. Bullets flew, and one of the riders fell to the ground, hit in the chest.

Before the second rider could react, several dark vehicles sped up. A team of men, dressed in dark suits and equipped with automatic weapons, jumped out of the cars and opened fire in a coordinated manner against the attackers. The shootout was quick and lethal. In seconds, the gang members lay dead on the ground, and Vincent's team moved with military precision to secure the area.

From the passenger seat, Tracey watched everything with wide eyes. Her heart raced, and she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her brother, shooting at men with a skill she had never imagined. It was a side of Vincent she had never known, and every shot he fired echoed in her mind as a reminder that her brother was no longer just the boy she had grown up with.

"Let's go," Vincent said urgently as he got back in the car and sped away, pulling them from danger.

Tracey couldn't take her eyes off her brother, wondering if she would ever recognize the Vincent she had known. The adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she realized that her life had changed forever. This was a world she had never wanted to know, and now she was trapped in it.

The drive back home was silent, a silence heavy with unanswered questions. What would she do now? How would she face her parents after what she had seen? When they arrived, Vincent stopped in front of the house, and Tracey felt a mix of relief and panic.

"Vincent…" she began, her voice trembling. What will I say when Mom and Dad ask why you haven't been home? What will I tell them?"

Vincent sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Tell them I've been working. Tell them I'm busy. They don't need to know the details. I don't want them to worry. And even less to get involved in this."

Tracey looked at him, anguish in her eyes. "So we're just going to keep hiding the truth? Are you going to live here in this... this place? This isn't a normal life, Vincent."

"I know. But I'm doing this for us. For our family," he replied, his tone softer but still resolute. "You don't understand what I've had to do to keep us safe. Life isn't like it used to be. This is the real world."

Tracey felt a mix of fear and sadness. The boy she had known, who had always been her protector, had vanished. In his place stood a man willing to do whatever it took, even if it meant crossing lines he should never have crossed.

"What if you get caught? What will happen to us?" she asked, her voice breaking with emotion.

"That's not going to happen. I've been taking care of myself. But I need you to trust me, Tracey. I can't lose you. Promise me you won't say anything," Vincent insisted, his gaze locked on hers.

Tracey felt a pressure in her chest. "What if I can't live with this? What if it consumes me too?"

Vincent stepped closer, taking her hand in his. "It won't. I promise you won't get involved in any of this. All I'm asking is for you to give me time. I'll explain everything when the time is right. But for now, I have to protect you. Please, trust me."

She nodded slowly, feeling her heart break a little more with every word. "Okay. But if this becomes too dangerous, I need you to tell me. I can't just stand by while you dive deeper and deeper into this world."

"I will," Vincent promised, and for a moment, the intensity of his gaze calmed her.

After what felt like an eternity, Tracey finally got out of the car and walked toward the door of her house. The idea of telling their parents what she had seen and what she knew terrified her, but she also knew she had to do something to protect Vincent. Once inside, she turned to him.

"I'm going to do what you asked, but I don't want this to tear us apart. I need you to come home, brother. Please."

"I will. Just give me a little time. I promise," Vincent said, his voice filled with a seriousness that frightened and comforted her at the same time.

Tracey entered the house, feeling as though she carried a heavy burden on her shoulders. The family dinner, the laughter, and the warmth that used to fill their home now felt distant and out of reach. She knew that the balance she had known had been shattered, and in its place lay a new path filled with uncertainty and danger.

That night, as she prepared for bed, her mind was filled with unanswered questions. What would happen if her brother continued to delve deeper into this dark world? What if he got into trouble he couldn't handle? What she had seen in the warehouse had changed everything. Her brother was no longer just Vincent; he was a stranger, trapped in a life he had chosen, and she had to decide how to navigate this new and terrifying territory.