A warm glint sparks in his icy blue eyes.Then he straightens, all business again, and hits the call button.
“Ray.It’s Shelby.We’ve got a location on Giovanni.”He pauses, listening.“Lake Arrowhead.Connelly territory.I need you to bring Nora and Pierce up to speed.We’re coming to their turf in a few hours, and we’re bringing reinforcement.”
Another pause.Ray’s voice is a tinny murmur through the phone’s speaker.
“Full Syndicate response,” Shelby confirms.“Dave’s mobilizing resources as we speak.Tommy and I will lead the tactical team.Serena and Maeve handle cyber operations.”His jaw tightens.“And Ray?When we find Cesare Dellamare, he’s mine.That’s non-negotiable.”
I can’t hear Ray’s response, but the grim satisfaction on Shelby’s face tells me everything I need to know.
He ends the call and meets my eyes across the room.I see my own determination reflected back at me.We’ve been building toward this moment since I walked into his penthouse and asked him to marry me.Since I chose to fight rather than submit.Since I decided that some monsters need to be destroyed, even if they share your blood.
“Ready?”he asks.
I think about Lucia Rossi’s smile in old family photos.About the thousands more still trapped in my father’s web.About the weight Shelby has carried for a decade because he couldn’t save Abeera.
I remind myself of what wholehearted looks like.Not perfection.Just doing what we can, when we can, with everything we have.
“Ready,” I reply.
And for the first time since this nightmare began, I believe it.
32
Shelby
The California sun beats down on us as we disembark from the Syndicate’s Gulfstream at a private airstrip outside San Bernardino.After the gray December skies of Boston, the warmth feels almost surreal.Like we’re about to enjoy a beach vacation rather than conduct a tactical assault on a trafficking compound.
Nora Connelly waits beside a convoy of black SUVs, her silver hair pulled back in a severe bun that matches the steel in her eyes.At sixty-two, she’s still one of the most formidable figures in the Western Syndicate territories.She’s also a woman who built her empire from the ground up after her husband’s assassination twenty-three years ago.The Connellys control everything from San Diego to Sacramento, and she didn’t get there by being soft.
Beside her stands Pierce, her eldest son and heir apparent.He’s built like a linebacker, with his mother’s sharp eyes and his late father’s ruthless jaw.We’ve crossed paths a few times over the years in Syndicate summits and joint operations.He’s competent.More importantly, he’s devoted to his mother, which means he’s loyal to the alliance.
“Shelby Boyle.”Nora extends her hand as I approach.Her grip is firm, businesslike.“Ray briefed us on the situation.Giovanni DiLorenzo running a trafficking operation under our noses for a decade.”She shakes her head, something cold flickering in her expression.“The audacity.”
“The evidence is irrefutable,” I reply.“My wife gathered it herself.Everything connects back to Giovanni and Cesare Dellamare.”
“Your wife.”Nora’s gaze sharpens with interest.“Serena DiLorenzo.Interesting.”
“We’re here thanks to her.”I hold the elderly woman’s stare without flinching.“She’s the reason we found this compound.”
Something shifts in Nora’s expression.Respect, perhaps.Or recognition of a kindred spirit, another woman who refused to be defined by the men around her.
“Then let’s make sure her sacrifice counts for something.”Nora gestures toward the vehicles.“We’ve also been running surveillance on the Arrowhead compound since Ray called.Two dozen guards, rotating shifts.Giovanni and Cesare arrived by helicopter ninety minutes ago.”
My blood heats at the confirmation.They’re here.Both of them, in one location.This ends today.
Tommy and Dave climb out of the plane behind me.Ray and a team of twelve operatives join us.Nikolai stayed behind to run a parallel operation, following leads on the Widowmaker that might finally give us the name of the man at the top of this whole fucking pyramid.
“What’s the tactical approach?”Dave asks, falling into step beside Nora as we walk toward the convoy.
Ray unfolds a tablet, displaying satellite imagery of the compound.“Main house sits on a ridge overlooking the lake.Secondary structures here and here: barracks for the guards, probably.Helicopter pad to the north.Single access road, heavily monitored.”
“Escape routes?”I ask.
“The helicopter’s the obvious one.There’s also a boat dock on the lake, but we’ve got people positioned to intercept if they try to run waterside.”
I study the layout, my mind automatically calculating entry points, sight lines, kill zones.The Marine in me never switches off.
“Guard rotation patterns?”Dave asks.
