“You want more time, you better make it count.” That was Silas, already three drinks in, putting on his big bad wolf routine. “Because if this thing tanks, Axel’s not the only one who’s going to pay for it.”
On the video, Parker said: “It won’t tank. I just need a few more days.” You could see her hands shaking. The camera showed every tremor, like a little earthquake.
Bronc leaned forward, not blinking. Arsenal spit a shell at the trash and missed. “That Silas?” he said, as if he already knew the answer.
I nodded.
Doc made a note. “So it’s what you thought.” He thumbed through the first folder, his lips moving in silent calculation.
The video kept going. Silas, all threats and pressure, Parker crumbling then holding, then a sound: skin on skin. Not a slap, not exactly—just a grab, a grip. The sort of thing that leaves bruises if you let it. The table tensed. Even Gunner made a fist.
I killed the video. The room sucked up the silence like a punch to the gut.
“He’s got her by the fucking throat,” I said. “She’s the one moving the money for him.”
Arsenal was first to react. “She was fucking pack. Born here. Raised here. Her twin too.”
“Their entire life.” I said.
Doc frowned, eyes going cold. “She was never a joiner, but I didn’t take her for a traitor.”
“She’s not,” I said, and realized too late how it sounded. “It wasn’t her choice. She’s doing it because Silas is holding Axel over a fire.”
Bronc raised a brow. “You sure of that?”
“Dead sure. Listened to every minute.” I flexed my hands, remembered the sound Silas made when he touched her, the way Parker seemed to hold her breath. “He told her if she didn’t get it right, Axel wasn’t the only one who’d pay.”
Arsenal was grinning, not with happiness, but with anticipation. “So we burn Greenbriar. Make an example.”
Gunner piped up, “She’s still former pack, though.”
Doc shook his head. “Not if she’s running ops against us. That’s not just pack business. That’s war.”
I stood, too restless to stay seated. “She’s being forced. We’re not talking about some glory-hound. She’s desperate. And smart. Smart enough to have given us a way in. To show us the way.”
Bronc laced his fingers and stared me down. “You got a plan?”
I exhaled, slow. “We flip her. Get her to plant something in Silas’s office. Let her run the siphon for another week while we get our ducks in a row. Then we hit him when he’s looking the other way.”
Doc scratched his chin. “She doesn’t know she’s made?”
“Think she suspects. She’s about to find out for sure.”
Arsenal looked skeptical. “You sure you’re not too close to this, Wrecker?”
That got under my skin. I was going to protect her if I had to fight every man in this room. “You questioning me, Arsenal?”
He put his hands in the air, then glanced at Bronc. “Nah man. Just a question. I got it, not too close.”
That was a lie. I’d watched her for hours now, counting her breaths, watching her with that damn dog, memorizing the way she moved. I’d watched her sleep, watched her cry, watched her make herself come and then cry again. I felt like a ghost in her house. Like I’d always been there.
Bronc didn’t buy the lie. “You’re obsessed. Is this a liability?”
Nowthat,sure asshit,pissed me off. He’d let Juliet in when he didn’t even know who she trulywas,and he’s gonna question me?
“I think we all need to take a step back and fucking trust each other. I remember a couple of other women who we put our trust in before we had a good handle on whether or not they could be fully depended on. We put our faith in the members of this team to know what they were doing.” I was staring straight at Bronc.
Bronc put his head down.
