“A few rifles, nothing too powerful,” he said.
“Maybe the real shipment hasn’t arrived yet?” Thal asked.
James shrugged and started looking through the other boxes. I scanned the room, noticing another pile of boxes in the far corner. While James and Thal talked among themselves, I walked over and tried to ignore the fear creeping up my spine.
I approached the neatly packed pile of boxes on a table. I lifted the lid of the first box, and my heart stopped. These weren't just bank ledgers. They were files on people. Lives. I found a folder labeled “Collateral: Primary.”
I flipped it open, and the world went gray. There it was. My name, typed in clinical, cold font next to a dollar amount that made my stomach turn. My father’s jagged signature sat at the bottom like a death warrant.
But it was the red stamp across the center that stopped my heart:transfer pending.
To Rhea and Zeno, I wasn't a woman. I was like a vintage car, a piece of property moved across a ledger to settle a blood debtfrom ten years ago. The charity gala wasn't a party. It was an auction, and I was the sole item up for bid.
“What did you find?"
“It looks like Rhea’s been extremely busy. She’s meticulously keeping records of everyone’s finances. The list includes all the powerful figures in this city, along with a number of other names I don’t recognize.”
“She has everyone’s markers, Thal,” I said. I held up the folder with my name on it—the one with the red stamp. “But I’m the only one with a price tag. I'm the only one labeled as a pending transfer.”
Thal didn’t chuckle. His eyes turned into cold flints of obsidian, a look of such raw, possessive fury that I felt it in my chest.
“Price tags can be burned, Daphne,” he growled, his hand clamping over mine on the folder. “And I’m the one with the match. Rhea isn't collecting shit tonight.”
“She’ll stop at nothing,” James said, observing his men rifling through the many boxes filling the large room. “We need to move quickly. There’s no telling when someone else might arrive.”
“Honestly, I’d welcome Rhea herself showing up,” Thal said with a hint of sarcasm. “I have plenty I want to say to her.”
“Do you think she’d listen?” I pulled out my phone and took photos of the ledger pages. “She doesn’t seem like someone who takes advice well.”
“Probably not,” he started, but his words trailed off as gunfire erupted around us, ricocheting off the concrete floor and shattering the tense moment.
Without hesitation, we all took cover, hearts pounding as chaos erupted around us.
A wave of panic nearly caught in my throat, but I forced myself to breathe steadily. I ducked behind a cold metal post, myheart pounding as I searched through the chaos for Thal amid a barrage of bullets.
Amid the gunfire, I saw him crouched behind a battered wooden pallet, his eyes wide with fear. When he saw me, his eyes widened with alarm, and he signaled for me to stay down. I dropped to the ground, leaned against the post, drew my weapon, and listened for the direction of the gunfire.
The ambush seemed to be set from the back of the warehouse, and even as bullets whizzed past, I could hear the faint click and slide of someone reloading in that direction. I took a quick peek around the post, catching sight of utter chaos, faces grim, weapons raised, movements frantic.
An intense firefight raged, with James and his men fighting desperately to push through the chaos and get closer to whoever was shooting at us. I kept one eye on Thal, tracking his signals, while the other scanned the surroundings for any signs of sneaking enemies.
My eyes lowered to the ground, and I saw my phone lying there. I grabbed it and put it into my pocket as adrenaline heightened my awareness. If I could make it out, the footage on my camera roll might be very important.
“Fuck that,” I muttered under my breath.
There was no room for doubt. I was going to survive and get out of here with everyone else. Zeno made sure I knew how to fight by pushing me through years of martial arts classes. After earning my black belt, he signed me up for shooting lessons. A year of dedicated practice made me the best shot in the class.
I was always a quick learner, but in particular enjoyed holding my gun and feeling the adrenaline rush each time I pulled the trigger. The surge of power I experienced when I fired was addictive, unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
All these skills surfaced, but I’d never been in a real firefight with someone trying to kill me. The men in this warehouse were no longer just paper targets.
That didn’t imply I wasn’t ready to fight.
The world slowed to a crawl as the roar of gunfire became a dull, underwater thud. My body didn't just move, it executed. The heavy, cold steel of the Beretta felt like a natural extension of my arm. Zeno had spent ten years turning me into a weapon, and now the safety was off. I moved with a predatory grace I hadn't known I possessed, slicing through the crossfire like a shadow of smoke and lead.
Thal’s eyes widened, a flicker of shock crossing his face as I vaulted over a crate, but I was already past him. I didn't pray. I didn't blink. I simply leveled my weapon at the man aiming at Thal’s back and squeezed the trigger.
The kick of the gun was a sharp, familiar kiss against my palm. I watched the man's head snap back as the light left his eyes before he even hit the concrete. A cold, crystalline truth settled in my marrow: I wasn't a girl in a warehouse anymore.
