She’s fucking terrifying.
She also said an in-person meeting was necessary to convey something delicate and told him to have a drink at the bar on the third floor, near a gaming area. He responded that he’d be here and was bringing a friend who was connected. So, tonight is a twofer—a huge win for us.
There are various colored LED lights moving throughout the dark club to the overpowering beat of techno music. The roar of the crowd is nearly as deafening as what’s being piped through the speakers. I’m at a high-top table, cloaked by enough shadows to be invisible, but angled just right to have eyes on our targets. I’m also stationed near a fire exit that we’ve tripped the alarm on.
I spot our men immediately, and my stomach flips. Both are my members. I knew they were involved in shady shit—not the kind of shady I champion—but my heart hammers against my sternum at the thought of them conspiring against my goddamn family. An itch to be the one to pull the trigger has my fists curling, but Zara is perched on a stool at a bar on the opposite side of the gaming room. Ready.
Right on cue, the DJ mixes things up and announces fifteen minutes of half-priced drinks. They do this once an evening, and we got a tip that it would be at ten thirty tonight. As the horde of patrons storm the bar, I dip my chin to my girl so she knows her targets are here.
One of the men answers a call—something he’s not happy about. The color drains from his face as he mouths something to the other man. When the call ends, they both start messing frantically with their phones and preparing to leave.Apprehension lances my chest. Our time is dwindling, but whatever has them untethered only serves as further distraction.
Zara seamlessly weaves around people and chairs and a beer pong table, strutting toward her targets with purpose that is both alluring and natural. No one seems to think she’s out of place. Not even her marks. She takes them out before they can comprehend what’s happening—two swift, silent shots. Her movements are so fluid and serene that it’s a bit like Cash when he’s pulling one of his sleight-of-hand tricks—impossible to look away, yet unable to detect precisely what you’re observing.
I rise from my seat and hover near the door while she snags their phones. Blood seeps out from beneath the booth into a crimson puddle on the polished concrete floor, but no one pays attention. In the length of another harried heartbeat, Zara is beside me, and we’re dashing down the fire escape stairwell, tossing the weapon into a dumpster, and jumping into a car we had waiting.
We don’t utter a word, both of us focused on the remaining steps of the task. She removes her gloves and hooks up the forensic extraction device to the phones.
It’s a quick jaunt to the airport, so we’re halfway there when Zara grunts, “Fuck.” She repeats that about twenty more times, pounding on the phones that we’ll need to discard when we reach the plane, until finally explaining, “They’re onto me. Everything is gone. They had a shredding app installed and must’ve employed it right before I took them out. It just finished running. I couldn’t override it.”
“They were alerted,” I agree. “I watched one of them get the call.”
“Shit,” she pants, obviously unglued. “I thought I’d be able to take out a few more before … That’s a dead end. Without the information on who their contacts are, I have no idea who else is involved.”
That means it could be anyone, anywhere, but that’s been the reality for Rena’s family for years. And now we have more information than we’ve ever had. That’s hope.
Zara pitches the phones because we can’t take a chance on having any type of tracking on them—even with them wiped. I concentrate on getting us to my jet, and only once we’re on board and in the air do I probe further.
“Why are you so upset? If it’s about what we need for KORT, I promise you’ve done enough.”
“I don’t really care about that. I mean, I don’t want them to kill me or my family, but …” Her shoulders droop in defeat. “I needed this—this validation that I really do save people, thatone stoneisn’t just something we say. Between the trafficking rings they were running and the fact that your family would be safe, I guess it felt like proof that I was worthy of the way you’ve all embraced me.”
“Look at me.” I cup her chin and mop up her pain with my thumb. “You don’t have to earn it.” When her gaze darts away, I clutch her jaw and pull her back to me. “You are phenomenal, skilled, and fierce. You have undoubtedly freed countless women. You should be proud. But my family is far more excited by your acrobatic talents in our floor-is-lava game than we are by any of this. We want you, Zara, not what you do.”
Her lips arch downward, a frown announcing her doubt. “What if it’s the same?”
“Am I only La Lune Noire? Is that what you see?”
“Of course not.” She blows out a choppy breath. “Not even close.”
“Good, because while I’m proud of what I’ve built our business to be, it doesn’t compare to the contentment that fills me from what I’ve created with my family. Or you. Or the hope of what I believe we can shape our future into. That’s my legacy. Our legacy. La Lune Noire could close tomorrow, and I’d still bethe richest, most legendary man on earth.” I offer her a cocky wink with that final sentiment to draw out her dazzling smile.
It’s weak, but she grants it to me.
“And you, Zara Noire, are so many amazing things.” I smooth her hair back, undone as always by how magnificent she is. “You’re a bibliophile, a polyglot, a multi-black belt, a sister-in-law, a friend, an aunt to Rena’s twins and Remy … and the baby Mercy and Ryker are expecting.” When her mouth pops open with evident regret for missing it, I shake my head. “They haven’t told anyone because they didn’t want to announce it without you there. I’m just observant. But that should tell you what you mean to them. You’re ours. Mine. My forever, my heart, my wife, my queen. I will love you no matter what you do, not because you do it or don’t do it.”
“Okay,” she whispers with a sniff and a hefty swallow. “Seriously, Axel. No wonder you can hold the heavens. You’re the whole damn world to all of us.”
I think that means she trusts me, which is all I’ve wanted.
Content with her response, I thread our fingers and rest my head against the seat, hoping she’ll relax with me. “When we go before KORT, be your badass self, but most importantly, remember that you’re mine. I’ll handle everything else.”
“When are we meeting with them?”
“We’re on our way now.”
ZARA
I’m standing on an icy sidewalk before a haunted church, mid-December in Chicago.
