Luca turned without a word and crossed the room to a desk at the far wall. He picked up a towel, casually wiping the blood from his palm as if it were no more than wine spilled at dinner. On the desk, a row of black cases sat waiting, sleek and ominous. One by one, he flipped them open, each click of the latch echoing through the silence.
Inside each case gleamed a brand-new SIG Sauer P226—matte black, steel frame, textured grip. A weapon built for precision. The kind of gun you trusted with your life, engineered to fire true and never jam.
Luca turned back to the men, towel still in hand.
“Welcome to the syndicate,” he said in a satisfied voice. “These are yours. Protect them. Respect them. Use them when necessary—and itwillbe necessary.”
Lucian stepped forward first, taking his case with a quiet nod. Lachlan followed, then Gabriel, who tested the weapon with a dramatic flair. Julian lingered for a while, scrutinizing the weapon before lifting the case and locking eyes with me.
That one was going to be a problem someday.
When the men were all situated, I stepped forward. They turned their attention to me—four new brothers with blood crusted across their palms and scars forged in fire. I reached into the interior pocket of my jacket and pulled out four USB drives, cased in polished obsidian glass. Each one was small enough to vanish into a pocket yet powerful enough to change a man’s life forever.
“These,” I said, handing one to each of them, “are keys.”
They turned them over, studying the seemingly innocuous little pieces of hardware and looking confused.
“Each of you now has a numbered offshore account. The balances will keep you looking, acting, and living the part of an influential force. You’ll drive the right cars. Wear the right suits. Walk into the right rooms with the right posture. No one questions men who move like they were born to rule.”
Lucian blinked several times, visibly stunned.
Julian gave a low whistle. “Guess I won’t be shopping secondhand anymore.”
Gabriel held the drive up. “Well damn, I didn’t realizejoining the mobcame with a signing bonus.”
Luca chuckled from across the room, taking the towel and wiping the blade as if it were communion silver. “That’s the sugar. The shitstorm comes later. Try to stay alive long enough to enjoy it.”
I turned back to the men.
“Now listen closely. Delgado is hunting for Lyla; be ready to burn this city to ash if he finds her before we do.”
That earned a slow, amused grunt from Luca. “Hope she’s as loyal as she is flexible.”
I shot him a look. Cold. Deadly. “She’s not a joke.”
His smirk faded, and he shook his head in that patronizing way old men do when they think they’ve already lived your mistake.
“I’ll be in touch soon,” I told the others. “Stay alert. We’re going after Delgado and his MS-13 rats.”
I didn’t wait for questions. I walked out.
Rory was waiting by the SUV, one hand resting on the open passenger door.
He glanced at the blackened gash in my hand.
“Hell of a way to sayI’m committed.”
“Let’s just go,” I muttered, sliding into the vehicle.
We sped through the quiet streets, heading toward Manhattan. I tapped my phone screen. I’d received no updates from Henri.
I growled under my breath.
“She’s still off the grid,” I said, dragging my hand through my hair in frustration. “It’s like she evaporated.”
Rory glanced at me. “You think she ran?”
I stared out the window. “If she’d run, I would have already found her. This? This is something else.”
