I hadn’t looked up from my phone. I’d barely heard her say “one minute”.
I had believed her. I had fucking believed her. I turned. The room froze. I walked toward the war table. My boots echoed across the wood.
I didn’t sit. I placed both hands on the table, leaned forward, and looked at each of them. Loyal was first. His jaw tightened. His laptop open beside him, maps pinned to the screen. Royal straightened. Barron nodded once. No words. Just steel in his spine.
“They moved her by car,” I said.
Loyal tapped the trackpad.
“Confirmed.”
He rotated the laptop.
Security footage. Grainy. A dark sedan pulling away from the curb. Timestamped thirty seconds before I walked into that building.
“They had eyes,” I muttered.
“Everywhere,” Loyal added.
Royal shoved a knife into the sheath on his belt.
“You want me to follow the car?”
“No,” I said. “I want you to follow the scent.”
Royal grinned. Barron picked up his phone.
“I’ll push pressure on the brokers. If Selene’s tied to this, she won’t see tomorrow.”
“She didn’t do this,” I said.
Barron looked up.
“She would have if she thought it would hurt us.”
I shook my head.
“She didn’t want Cloe dead.”
I stepped back. Walked to my room.
The others followed. Not because I asked. Because they knew something had changed. I opened the closet. Pulled the blade from the vault beneath the floorboard. Laid it on the dresser. It wasn’t ceremonial. It was familiar.
I strapped it to my thigh. Pulled the gun from the drawer. Checked the clip. Full.
Loyal entered behind me.
“You have a location?”
He nodded.
“Last ping was east side. Near the docks. Warehouse complex. No recent shipping activity. Not cartel. Not syndicate. Independent.”
“Loan shark,” Barron said from behind him.
I closed the drawer.
“Which one?”
