They left, and I was alone with my rage and my phone and the city sprawling below.
I dialed a number from memory, held the phone to my ear, and waited through two rings before a voice answered. Male, cautious, with an edge that suggested he knew better than to answer calls from unknown numbers.
“I need information,” I said, not bothering with pleasantries. “On a pack operating in the lower district. Alpha named Bane.”
Silence, then: “That kind of information costs.”
“Name your price.”
More silence, longer this time. I could almost hear him calculating, weighing the request against whatever price he was considering. Finally: “What kind of information?”
“Everything.” I turned back to the windows, looking down at the city where Jasmine's hunters waited. “Names, addresses, financial vulnerabilities, legal exposure. Anything I can use to make them disappear.”
The pause that followed was longer, weighted with understanding. “You want ammunition.”
“I want a fucking arsenal,” I said, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. The fury I'd been controlling bled through now, making my words sharp as knives. “And I want it fast. Forty-eight hours.”
“That's not much time—”
“Then you'd better start working.” I named a figure that made him inhale sharply, more money than most people saw in a year. “Half now, half on delivery. And if I find out you've talked to anyone about this, if word gets back to them that someone's been asking questions, the price you'll pay won't be financial.”
The threat landed with satisfying weight. I heard him swallow, recalibrating his understanding of who he was dealing with.
“Forty-eight hours,” he agreed. “You'll have everything.”
I ended the call without saying goodbye, already dialing the next number. This one rang longer, four times before a woman's voice answered, professional and slightly annoyed at the late hour.
“I need a lawyer,” I said. “The kind who specializes in making people disappear. Legally, preferably. But I'm flexible on the methods.”
Her tone shifted, annoyance replaced by interest. “Go on.”
I outlined what I needed—ways to destroy Bane's pack from the inside, legal vulnerabilities we could exploit, pressure points that would make fighting back impossible. She listened without interrupting, and I could hear her taking notes, the scratch of pen on paper carrying through the phone.
“It's doable,” she said when I finished. “But it'll take resources. Money, time, connections.”
“You'll have whatever you need.” I named another figure, watched the city lights blur as my grip on the phone tightened. “Just make it hurt.”
“Personal?” she asked, and there was no judgment in the question, just professional curiosity.
“Extremely.”
“Then we'll make it hurt.” A pause, then: “You should know, going after a pack this aggressively... There will be consequences. Other packs will notice. Questions will be asked.”
“Let them ask.” I turned away from the window, and moved back behind my desk, where I could see the security monitor I'd had installed last year. The one that showed the penthouse entrance, and where Jasmine was sleeping, unaware of the threats gathering around her. “Anyone who has a problem with how I protect what's mine can get in line behind the ones who are already in my way.”
The steel in my voice must have convinced her, because she just murmured her agreement and ended the call with a promise to start working immediately.
I stood there in my office, phone still in my hand, and felt the icy fury settle over me. This was what I was good at. Not the direct violence Theo specialized in, but the systematic destruction of obstacles. The careful application of pressure until something broke.
Bane's pack had made a mistake coming here. Had made a mistake thinking they could intimidate us, could take back what they'd thrown away when they'd beaten Jasmine and driven her onto the streets.
She was ours now. Under our protection. Part of our pack. I placed the phone down and looked out at the city. I would make sure they understood it. Would make sure everyone understood it.
Whatever it took.
Chapter Twenty-five
Jasmine
