I’m pretty sure my blood pressure hasn’t dipped since that initial text I received at the hotel, and my heart pumps like I’m running up this hill rather than driving it.
All that matters is getting to Cassandra. That’s as far as I can think right now, my foresight clogged with terror for my girl. I haven’t survived this long without being able to recognize a trap when I see one, but that’s the horror of having something to lose. You walk into the fire, knowing you’ll burn.
Making a sharp turn, I pull down a nearby service road, the dirt barely paved between thick roots and trees. Another steadying breath.Another anxious swipe of my tongue. It’s not long before I spot the dark shadow of a truck at the end of the road.
Time to get this part the fuck over with.
I strip my emotions like a coating of paint, peeling until nothing shines through but that cool, calculated exterior.
I cut the ignition. My car door shuts with a click.
Cassandra might have transformed me into something that touches and yearns and loves, but that man isn’t who she needs right now. She needs the one who schemes and kills. She needs the monster that writhed under my skin long before I ever tasted the sugared luxury of happiness.
My boots sink into the damp layer of dirt, each step imprinting my path. As I stalk up to the looming collection of Mafia soldiers ahead, I feel more naked than ever before. I can’t remember the last step I took without the calming weight of my gun or an arsenal of knives hidden within the folds of my clothes. I wasn’t going to risk them incurring any more wrath toward Cassandra for not following instructions, so unfortunately, that leaves me here, standing utterly barren before my enemy’s forces.
“On your knees! Hands behind your head!” A voice shouts out from the cluster.
Gradually, I comply with their demands, sucking my teeth as the wet grass digs into the cloth of my pants. My fingers interlink on the back of my neck.
The men rush me, just as I expected they would.
My stomach is already clenched in a brace when the first strike hits, each consecutive beating landing with the humid dampness of dirt, the pain a mere rattle against my bones. Hit after hit, my body absorbs each. Wisps of green blur my vision, stark against the grey sky. I don’t even realize I’m bleeding until copper overtakes the fresh florals filling my nose.
Finally, one of the fuckers lands a hit square to the back of my head, and I can already tell on the way down that this one’s gonna knock me out. I embrace the pang that reverberates through my skull.
Here I come, Menace.
I wake with a raw jolt.
My eyes snap open, immediately acclimating to the aroma of danger in the room. Cassio stands in my direct line of sight, a satisfied smirk curling on his bearded face.
“Ah. He’s up,” he says to someone behind me. I glance around, searching the space for any sign of Cassandra. Instead, all I see are the weathered, muddy walls of some long-abandoned basement, a single light flickering above us.
Her absence confirms my suspicions. We’re doing this the hard way.
The little shit tied my hands behind my back.A bit inconvenient.I squeeze my muscles, testing the strength of the rope as I do a sweep with my tongue, assessing any damage they could’ve done to my mouth.
“Alright. You can go ahead and bring them in. We might as well get this thing started.”
My body tenses at the words. Only a few minutes pass before I hear the scrape of feet against the floor. I twist in my binds for a better view.
Cassandra is dragged by the strands of her beautiful hair, the little ringlets of curls tangling in a clenched palm. Her face, though streaming with tears, is set in a vicious snarl that sends waves of pride through me. I’m so enraptured by the sight of my woman, fighting her captors tooth and nail, that it takes a moment for my gaze to wander up to her handler?—
My blood runs cold.
Everything quiets to a whisper, save for the dull ringing that rolls into my ears.
“No.”
A thousand memories flood my consciousness all at once. Taking classes together, spontaneous trips behind our parents’ backs. Learning to fight with each other. Taking bullets for one another.
The man whom I had considered a brother just a minute before glares harshly in my direction, twisting his grip in Cass’s hair until she calls out in pain. And suddenly, it all clicks together.
“My operations, taken down by my own Operations Manager,” I grind out into the air. I feel like a fucking idiot for not even considering it in the first place. It all lines up. The way the footage has gone “missing” during each of the drop-site thefts. How, no matter what number of guards I assigned, no one ever saw a fucking thing.
Because the thief they were searching for was their direct boss.
Lev.
