Mikhail couldn’t confirm she’s in this building, and I’m not about to drag her into a room she might not be near.If Dove is here, Jag will tell me the second he sees my face.If she isn’t, if she’s somewhere else entirely, I’ll probably make a bloody mess out of some throats.
Future-Wolf problems.
“You’re making assumptions.”Crowe studies me, the practiced calm back in place, but thinner now.
“I’m making a schedule.”I smile again, this one meaner.“You can walk me down there, or I can start improvising with explosives.I’m leaving with Jag Rath, or we’re all leaving in pieces.Your choice.”
“Do you know why I let you into my club?”
“Because you thought I was an underage girl?”
He ignores the jab.“Because I know your family.The moment Jag Rath entangled himself with you, I had you investigated.Curiously, your name doesn’t exist the way it should.No trail.No childhood or schooling.Nothing that explains you.”
“I lived off-grid with a psychopath for twenty-four years.”
If that surprises him, he doesn’t show it.“How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.Too legal for you, honeybun.”
He blinks once, the math catching up.
“If you did your homework, you’d know I lean hard into suicidal solutions.”I recline in the chair, the bomb on full display.“Go ahead.Call my bluff.”
I know how deranged I must look to him with my sequins, eyeliner, painted smile, and plan that ends in dismemberment.
“What do you want with Rath?”His gaze dips to the exposed scars on my chest.
“I was raised by a monster who preyed on kids and told us we were special.”
His face empties.
“I recognize the type.”I look him up and down.“You collect children, abuse them until you’re bored, pass them on to your friends, and make a profit on their suffering.”I fold my hands on the table, metal rings clinking together.“You took Jag because he’s useful.A skill set like his will clean up your messes, erase your filthy tracks, and keep you out of prison.”
Crowe opens his mouth.
“I’ll kill him before I let you keep a weapon like that.”I tip my head, inked smile holding.“If the only way to stop you is to turn this place into rubble, I’ll pay that price.So choose.Give me the hacker and keep breathing.Or play your games and find out how serious I am.”
My heart pounds in my throat, and I wonder if he notices.His terrible silence lasts too long, tightening my skin and sandblasting my lungs.
Then I see it, the moment it lands, the exact second his options finish rearranging themselves.The mask evaporates.The choices narrow, and he realizes there’s no angle left where he keeps both his control and his survival.
“Follow me.”He pushes his chair back.
Survival, it is.
The guards close in immediately, a tight ring of suits and steel.Crowe doesn’t look at them.He turns stiffly and walks.
I rise and go with him.
We slip through a private exit behind velvet curtains, turn into a corridor, and open a door to the rear stairwell.
“Yay.”I clap my hands.“Basement time.”
Crowe leads.I follow.Guns move with us, never more than a breath away.
And that is how I get a free guided tour of Adrian Crowe’s dungeon.
“Wolf.”Oliver’s voice cuts into my earpiece.“This could be a trap.”
