“You’re earlier than usual,” Ghost comments as he wipes down an already clean glass.
I shrug, settling onto a stool and scanning the room. “Needed to kill some time before work.”
Rowan sits at the far end of the bar, his knuckles white around a tumbler of amber liquid. His jaw ticks with tension, a muscle jumping beneath his skin. I’ve seen that look before, always right before violence explodes.
Conversations drift through the room, as the barback speaks to a waitress near the stage, her head bent close to his as they whisper.
“—three Omegas in one night gone missing near the docks?—”
“—warehouse fire—nothing left but concrete?—”
“—strange scent lingering for days, chemical but sweet?—”
My shoulders tighten.
Ghost sets a glass of water before me without asking.
The ice clinks as I lift it, cold spreading through my palm. “When did it start?”
“Reports came in around four this morning.”Ghost arranges bottles behind the bar. “Two from our network near the port, one from uptown.”
Rowan turns his head, catching my eye. “What did you and Fancy Loafers find down at the docks?”
Irritation spikes through me at the disparaging nickname he gives Gabriel, but before I can correct him, my phone vibrates in my pocket, the screen lighting up with Micah’s name.
I swipe to answer, holding it to my ear as I turn away from the bar.
“Saint? Thank god!” Micah shouts in a rush of relieved anxiety. “Are you okay? Have you heard what’s happening?”
“I’m fine,” I say, aware of how fast Micah picks up on stress. “What’s going on?”
“Rockford Manor is under complete lockdown. Security everywhere. Aaiden’s pulled in every enforcer they have on payroll.” Words tumble out of him so fast he has to catch his breath. “Sebastian has people scanning traffic cams, and Nolan’s called in favors with the police commissioner, but nobody will tell me anything.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m sure they just want to keep everyone safe.”
“Last night, Ezra was heading out for a meeting, and Aaiden blocked him from leaving. They had amassive fight in the foyer.” He pauses, his breathing ragged. “Saint, I’ve never seen Aaiden like this. He’s not the calm, collected Rockford president right now. He’s on a warpath.”
Micah lowers his voice. “Have you seen Gabriel? He’s not answering any calls, and Aaiden is losing his mind over it. Sebastian keeps saying he’s ‘handling an aspect of the situation,’ but won’t elaborate.”
Heat creeps up my neck in a mixture of guilt and concern. Gabriel had been in my bed this morning. In my shower. Drinking coffee in my kitchen while his older brother was going crazy with worry.
“No,” I lie, the word slipping out smooth and practiced. “I think he finally took the hint to leave me alone.”
“Fuck.” Micah exhales. “Can you come to the manor? We’re bringing in everyone connected to the family. Aaiden wants you here.”
My spine stiffens. “Why me?”
“Because you’re involved now,” Micah whispers, as if someone might overhear. “Sebastian found a list with every Rockford mate and family ally. It’s a target list, Saint. He also found one for Samuel Ortiz, too. I’m trying to track down where it came from, but it’s proving problematic.”
The room tilts, and I grab for the bar to ground myself. “I can take care of myself.”
“Saint, please.” Micah’s fear comes through the speaker. “This isn’t about being stubborn or independent. This is serious. Whoever is behind this isn’t playing games anymore.”
“Everything’s under control, Micah. I’ll be fine.”
I end the call before he can object again and tuck the phone away, turning back to find Ghost and Rowan watching me with identical expressions of concern.
“How bad?” Rowan asks.
