“Now,” I say, leveling the weapon at his face again. “You.”
He talks.
He talks until he’s sobbing, until his voice breaks, until he’s given up more than he realizes. I listen, committing every detail to memory, every weakness, every pattern.
“—told us no one would be here, that you were at some kind of gathering on a yacht?—”
The realization that breaks across his features is almost heartbreaking. Hinto is a cold man; he sent this group here to smoke me out, to assess how deadly and efficient we actually are. To find out if he can take us man to man, or if he needs to find another way.
And this one is a corpse, but doesn’t know it yet. He has only just put the pieces together. When he finishes, there is nothing left in him but terror.
I turn away, leaving one of my men to end his life. It’s not enough to make up for our brothers who have died here tonight. But I’m already starting a list of those who are going to pay.
I look around the hangar, cataloging the damage, calculating repairs, contingencies, and consequences. Hinto wanted to see how close he could get. He wanted to remind me that nothing I own is untouchable. These men didn’t realize they were a sacrifice to gauge how far their boss could push me.
I allow myself a thin smile.
He has reminded me of something else.
This is my city. My air. My machines.
The world tilts violently as soon as my back is turned. I make it three steps before my knees threaten to buckle. The pain overwhelms the adrenaline that’s been holding me upright. Nika is there instantly, hands steadying me, his face tight with concern he’s trying to hide.
“Boss,” he says low. “You’re hit bad.”
I nod once, unable to speak, and let them guide me behind one of the SUVs. The concrete feels too close, and the sky feels too far away. Someone presses a hand to my side, applying pressure, voices overlapping as they coordinate extraction.
As they lift me, the edges of the world blur, and darkness creeps in despite my efforts to stay present. I force my eyes open, focusing on anything to anchor myself.
Aly’s face comes to me unbidden, the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not watching. The warmth of her body against mine, the sound of her breathing when she sleeps.
Not yet.
I cling to consciousness with everything I have, because I am not finished, there is still a war to win. There is a woman waiting for me who doesn’t yet know how much of my blood I am willing to spill to keep her safe.
Chapter 25
Alyona
The headline catches my eye mid-step; the words sliding across the mounted television in the staff lounge at The Lennox like a blade.
Incident at Baranov Hangar Outside Savannah. Multiple Injuries Reported.
I stop so abruptly that one of the receptionists nearly runs into me. The room seems to tilt, my pulse roaring in my ears as the anchor’s voice continues on in calm, measured tones that are at odds with the images on the screen. Grainy footage of lights, police tape, the blurred outline of black vehicles that tell me this isn’t an accident, despite the anchor reporting, “—told that an issue with fuselage may have resulted in several men hurt and possible loss of life.”
My chest tightens.
Brook is suddenly there, her hand warm and firm on my arm, her sharp eyes already assessing my face. “Aly,” she says quietly, not asking. “You should go.”
I don’t argue or even thank her. I nod once, reach for my phone, and walk away. My movements are stiff and mechanical,like if I stop, I might actually feel this. The staff parts without comment, someone pressing my bag into my hands, another opening the door before I reach it.
Outside, the driver straightens when he sees me, tosses his cigarette aside, a question forming on his lips.
“Take me to the hospital,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “Now.”
He hesitates for half a second, protocol warring with instinct, and I meet his eyes. “Please.”
Something shifts. He nods once and opens the door.
