Then I hit him.
Hard.
My fist connected with his face, and his head snapped back with a sickening crack. When it bobbed forward again, he looked dazed, like a marionette with half its strings cut.
Blood poured from his nose.
I grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look at me.
"Who told you about Dominion Hall?" I asked.
He blinked, eyes unfocused. Then, surprisingly, his mouth set in a stubborn line.
"Journalistic integrity," he slurred. "Can't reveal sources."
I almost laughed.
Instead, I hit him again.
His nose flattened under my knuckles, cartilage crunching. More blood. He made a sound like a wounded animal.
"I'll ask again," I said. "Who told you about Dominion Hall?"
This time, he broke.
"They have money," he babbled, words tumbling over each other. "They offered to save the company. Said if I helped take down a crooked operation, the country would be safer and I'd have at least ten years of runway to keep the company going. Do you know how big that is? There's no money in journalism anymore. None. We're bleeding out. They were offering a lifeline."
I didn't care.
"Who exactly did you talk to?" I asked.
His lips pressed together again, like he thought he still had leverage.
I headbutted him.
The well-used technique worked perfectly. His already-pulverized nose took the brunt of it, and he went limp in my grip.
I slapped him across the face to bring him back.
"Stay with me, Derek," I said. "Who did you talk to?"
His eyes fluttered open. "A woman," he whispered. "Older, maybe. I don't know."
"Confirm," I said. "Older woman. What else?"
"Yeah," he said, voice thick with blood. "Sounded like she smoked her whole life. Raspy. Confident. Like she owned the fucking world."
The woman from an hour ago. The one who'd stood in the window and told me to put my gun down. The one who'd threatened Amelia. The one who smelled like expensive perfume and spoke like power itself.
The Vanguard.
There was a knock at the door.
"Levi?" Jacob's voice came through, muffled but clear.
I dragged Derek to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open.
My brothers streamed in—Jacob first, then Caleb, Gideon, Lucas, and finally Ethan, carrying an oversized duffel bag.
