A heavy silence settled over the table. Reed found himself thinking about his employees at STAR Enterprises, his neighbors, the innocent people who could become collateral damage if these contractors decided Reed’s association with Elena made him a liability.
“Terrifying guys,” Walker added with characteristic understatement. “The kind who make other operators nervous.”
Elena pushed her plate away, her appetite clearly gone. “This is exactly what I was afraid of. It’s not just about me anymore. It’s about everyone around me.”
“Elena—” Reed started.
“No,” she said firmly. “Walker’s right. These people don’t care about collateral damage. They’ll go after anyone they see as connected to their target.”
Reed could see the guilt eating at her, the same self-blame that had driven her to fake her death five years ago. “We knew the risks when we agreed to help.”
“Did you?” Elena challenged. “Did you really understand that contractors might target your employees? Your friends? That just knowing me could get innocent people killed?”
The question hung in the air like a physical presence. Reed looked around the table at his brothers, seeing the same grim recognition in their eyes. They were all veterans, all familiar with the brutal mathematics of war. That sometimes good people died simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Yes,” Reed said quietly. “We understood.”
But even as he said it, a chill of foreboding settled over him. The stakes had been high before, but now they were facing an enemy with unlimited resources and no moral constraints. Webb wasn’t just trying to protect his auction—he was trying to eliminate Elena permanently, and he didn’t care who else died in the process.
James broke the silence with characteristic directness. “So what do we do?”
“We finish this tomorrow,” Elena said, her voice hard with determination. “Before Webb can bring in more contractors. Before innocent people die because of me.”
Reed nodded. The weight of what they were facing settled on his shoulders like a lead blanket. Tomorrow, they would walk into a fortress filled with enemies, with no backup except each other, knowing that failure meant more than just their own deaths.
It meant Elena would spend the rest of her life running from killers who would never stop hunting her.
“Early night,” Reed announced, standing. “We move at 1500 hours tomorrow.”
As his brothers headed to their rooms, Reed caught Elena’s arm.
“We’re going to get through this,” he said quietly.
She looked up at him, and he could see the fear she was trying so hard to hide. “Reed, if something happens to you or your brothers because of me…”
“It won’t. And if it does, it’ll be because we chose to be here. Because some things are worth fighting for.”
Elena nodded, but she didn’t look convinced. As Reed watched her head to her room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that tomorrow would test all of them in ways they weren’t prepared for.
The foreboding that had settled over dinner followed him into his room, where he lay awake staring at the ceiling and thinking about contractors who eliminated problems completely.
Outside, the Canadian wilderness was peaceful and quiet.
Inside Reed’s mind, warning bells were ringing loud enough to wake the dead.
CHAPTER 11
Elena adjusted the press lanyard around her neck for the third time, her fingers trembling despite her best efforts to stay calm. The camera bag slung over her shoulder felt heavier than it should—probably because it contained not just professional photography equipment but also a compact Glock 43 hidden in a false bottom that Terrel had constructed with meticulous precision.
She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the SUV’s window and had to remind herself that the stranger staring back was actually her. Reed had spent three hours that morning transforming her face with professional-grade prosthetics—the kind used in Hollywood productions and, she suspected, by intelligence agencies for deep cover operations. Her nose was subtly wider, her cheekbones more pronounced, and silicone appliances along her jawline had changed the entire shape of her face. Even her teeth were different, fitted with custom dental veneers that altered her smile.
“WATCHDOG’s facial recognition algorithms work on over forty reference points,” Reed had explained as he’d carefully applied the prosthetics with a steady hand. “We need to change at least fifteen of them to fool the system.”
The process had been intimate in ways Elena hadn’t anticipated—Reed’s face inches from hers as he worked, his breath warm on her skin, his fingers gentle as they pressed the silicone into place. She’d had to remind herself to breathe.
Dear Lord,she prayed silently now,please guide my steps tonight. Give me wisdom and courage. Protect Reed and his brothers.
The Blackwood Estate rose before her like something out of a gothic novel, all sharp angles and imposing stone walls that seemed designed to intimidate anyone who dared approach. Carefully manicured gardens flanked the main drive, and uniformed security personnel stood at rigid attention every fifty feet. Elena counted at least twelve visible guards before she reached the front entrance.
