Somewhere deeper in the structure, an engine rumbles, the sound low and deliberate.
My lips curve faintly.
Right on schedule.
The hum of distant traffic filters down through layers of concrete the moment the third song ends and Chace cuts the music. Nothing moves. The structure itself seems to hold its breath. Broken lights flicker overhead, casting warped shadows across rows of parked cars and thick concrete pillars. Dust drifts lazily through the stale air, catching in weak beams of yellow light. The smell of oil and cold cement settles deep in my lungs.
A soft crackle breaks the quiet. Niko’s voice slides into my ear through the comm.
“Hold positions. Target is inside. Approaching Johnathon Baker’s suite now.”
My eyes snap open. Pulse detonates. Inside. He’s already inside. Fifteen men hold their positions, silent and perfect. No engines, no footsteps—just waiting.
“Valentino,” Niko murmurs. “Thirteenth floor. Approximately thirty minutes.”
Thirty minutes.
My pulse slams hard enough to rattle my ribs, sending a flare of pain through my chest. The stitches pull, lungs burn as I drag in a breath that feels too shallow, too tight. Thirty minutes—that’s all that stands between me and her, between the man who ruined my childhood, between the monster and the woman I love.
My hands curl into fists in my lap, fire shooting up my arms. I welcome it. Let it ground me. Let it feed the rage coiling tight in my gut. He’s inside. With my girl. My wife. The image crashes in unbidden…Seraphina on her knees, crying, bruised, trembling, blood on skin that should only ever know my touch.
My vision goes red.
My dad’s hands flash in my mind—rough, unforgiving, teaching me early that pain is power. My chest and side ache. I sweat. My skin pales. If he touched her, if he hurt her, I won’t just kill him. I’ll break him. Slow.
Every breath becomes a countdown. Thirty minutes. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. The comm is quiet again, but the urge to break protocol claws at my throat. Where is she? Is she hurt? Is she scared? Is she thinking I’m dead? My finger twitches toward the mic. I swallow it back. Not yet.
I force my breathing to steady, even as every inhale drives pain through my ribs, every heartbeat a hammer. Control—that’s how I survive. That’s how I win.
Chace shifts beside me, eyes scanning me like he always does. He sees it. The tension wound tight, the storm building.
“You look like shit. You good, brother?” he murmurs.
A humorless smile tugs at my mouth. “Patience has never been my strong suit. Feel like I’m tensing, pulling out stitches… dying to know the state of my wife… angry, upset, kinda horny. Other than that, never better.”
He exhales slowly, understanding exactly what that means.
Another crackle.
“Security rotation just changed,” Niko whispers. “You’ve got a clean window.”
That’s it.
I push the door open. Cold air rushes in, sharp and damp, carrying the scent of rain drifting down the ramps above. My boots hit concrete, pain shooting up my legs and through my ribs, but I straighten anyway. Chace steps out beside me. We move into shadow, thick pillars keeping us unseen while the men subtly tighten the perimeter. Broken lights buzz overhead like dying insects.Tick. Tick. Tick.
Chace reaches behind his back, pulling his Colt. He drops the magazine with a practiced press of the release, glances over the rounds, slides it back in with a firm click. Then he racks the slide, chambering a round, eyes sharp as he checks the ejection port. Satisfied, he eases the safety on and tucks the gun back into his holster at his lower back, jacket falling naturally over it. He looks at me.
“If anything goes down, don’t play the hero. Got it?”
My ribs ache with each inhale, but I hold his gaze.
“If we get inside and you die—for real—at your wife’s fucking feet again… I’ll bring you back to life and kill you myself.”
A smirk tugs at my lips despite everything. “Is that your way of saying you love me?”
His lips twitch. “Shut the fuck up.”
The comm crackles once more. “Positions set,” Niko breathes. The seconds stretch, each heavier than the last.I’m here, baby…and my dad’s about to pay the price.Because the man who made my life hell is about to learn what happens when the monster he created comes back for blood.
