“Maybe.” I think of Remy and everything he risked to protect me. “But at least it won’t be for nothing.”
“You should have had a backup plan.” Nolan’s snarl cuts through the tension. His scarred face twists with disgust. “Now you’ll die, and that bastard Montoni walks free. All this—” He gestures sharply at my messenger bag. “Wasted.”
The accusation hits like a physical blow, but anger flares hot in my chest. I’ve spent years being underestimated and written off as naive or foolish. Not anymore.
“You think I’m that stupid?” My voice carries all the steel I’ve forged through years of dangerous investigations. “That I’d risk everything on a single roll of the dice?”
Nolan’s eyes narrow, the scarring on his face more pronounced in the passing streetlights.
“Before Declan knocked on my door, I sent everything—every document, every recording, every piece of evidence—to two people I trust with my life.” The words taste like victory on my tongue. “People beyond my father’s reach, beyond his network of bribes and threats.”
Greyson’s eyes find mine in the rearview mirror, a glimmer of something like respect in their depths.
“If I go down tonight,” I continue, holding Nolan’s intense stare, “I’m dragging that monster with me. My death won’t bury this story. It’ll blow it wide open.” A harsh laugh escapes me. “That’s all that matters now.”
Silence fills the car. Then, unexpectedly, Nolan’s scarred face splits into a genuine smile. “I like this girl.”
The approval in his rough voice stuns me. Almost against my will, I feel my lips twitch toward a smile. It’s been so long sinceI’ve felt anything close to amusement. The sensation is almost foreign.
I study Declan’s face as he outlines the plan and discusses it with Nolan and Greyson, searching for any hint of doubt. His expression remains impassive and controlled, betraying nothing but quiet confidence.
“You make it sound simple,” I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice.
“Nothing about this is simple.” Declan’s eyes lock onto mine. “Very last minute, but we’ve handled worse.”
“Have you? Because my father’s estate is a fortress. Military-grade security, armed guards, surveillance systems—”
“Which is why you’ll walk through the front door.” Nolan’s rough voice cuts through my protests. “While we slip in through their blind spots.”
“There are no blind spots.” I lean forward, frustration mounting. “Trust me, I grew up there. Every inch is monitored.”
“Every system has weaknesses.” Greyson’s cultured tone carries absolute certainty. “Especially ones run by overconfident men.”
“And if you’re wrong? If you can’t reach Remy in time—”
“Then you die.” Declan states it plainly, no sugar-coating. “Which is why we won’t fail.”
A harsh laugh escapes me. “That’s not very reassuring.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.” His green eyes pin me in place. “This isn’t about reassurance. It’s about survival.”
“And vengeance,” Nolan adds, his scarred face twisting into something dangerous. “Don’t forget that part.”
“Careful.” Greyson’s warning carries a sharp edge. “Personal vendettas get people killed.”
“Everything about this is personal.” I grip my messenger bag tighter. “My father made sure of that when he put Remy on the phone.”
The car falls silent, heavy with unspoken understanding.
“You’re scared.” Declan’s observation cuts through the tension.
I meet his gaze steadily. “Only a fool wouldn’t be.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Good. Fear keeps you sharp. Just don’t let it control you.”
Through the tinted windows, I see it—the massive iron gates of my childhood prison. My pulse quickens, but I force my breathing to remain steady.
The car rolls to a stop, and I stare at the looming silhouette of my father’s estate. The place where my mother died. Where Remy is being tortured. Where I might die tonight.
