“Ready.” He turns, meets my eyes. “Let’s go say goodbye to our daughter.”
Our daughter.
Holy fuck.
I have a daughter.
"She's not ours yet," I manage.
"Jinx." He grins, that infuriating, beautiful grin. "She's been ours since the moment you took that knife from her hand."
He's right.
But for once, I don't hate it.
Chapter Eighteen: Asher
Thecommscrackleat11:27 PM.
"London. Target acquired." Jace’s voice.
Jinx sits across from me in the hotel room, earpiece in, eyes closed. Listening. Waiting. His hands rest on his thighs, fingers still, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. The coiled readiness of a man about to walk into war.
"Copy, London." Jagger's voice comes through clear. "Dubai, status?"
A pause. Then Marlee says, "In position. Target is in the penthouse. Two guards in the main room, one in the hallway. We go in three minutes."
The hotel room is quiet around us. Geneva at night, the city sleeping, unaware of the violence unfolding across two continents. Unaware that the world is about to change.
"This is it," Jinx says without opening his eyes. "After tonight, it's over."
"After tonight, it starts." I reach across the space between us, take his hand. "The cleanup. The rebuilding. All the work that comes after the killing."
"Sounds exhausting."
"Sounds like a future."
His eyes are dark and steady, fixed on my face. "Weird thinking about it like that."
"Well get used to it."
"Fuck, it’s just… I have you." He turns his hand, laces his fingers through mine. "I have Lily. I have brothers who are going to survive this. That's more than I ever expected."
The comms crackle again.
"London. Target down." Jace's voice, still flat. Still professional. "Clean kill. Exfiltrating now."
"Copy, London. Good work." Jagger's voice. "Dubai, you're clear to execute."
"Moving." Marlee's voice goes quiet. We wait.
The seconds stretch. Jinx's grip tightens on my hand. Somewhere in Dubai, Marlee and Thiago are breaching a penthouse, putting down guards, closing in on Oswald.
The man who sourced the children. The man who worked with traffickers and corrupt officials to fill the Foundry's cells. The man who looked at kids and saw bags of flesh instead of people deserving of a life.
"Contact." Marlee's voice is strained now, gunfire crackling in the background. "Guards are down. Moving to the bedroom."
More gunfire. A crash. Then silence.
