Page 115 of Billionaire’s Heartbreak

I checked my weapon for the third time, then adjusted the earpiece tucked beneath my collar. My injured back protested with every movement, the fresh stitches pulling whenever I twisted too quickly, but I ignored it.

Everything felt ready. At least, as ready as any of us could be.

Be careful.

June's voice echoed in my mind.

But those words hadn't been meant for me. They had been for Dannie. We'd all said goodbye to our families before leaving, like soldiers heading into a war with no guarantee of coming home. We smiled. We promised we'd be careful. We told them we'd see them again soon. But beneath every smile lingered the same unspoken question.

What if we don't?

Our mission was simple: take back the base. To do that, we'd have to fight our way through the opposition and reclaim control of the triad.

There would be injuries. There would be blood. There would almost certainly be death. None of us needed to say it aloud.

Earlier, when Lucy had stepped into my arms, I'd hugged her tightly. But my eyes had never left June.

She stood beside Dannie, trying to be brave, trying to hide the worry written across her face. Her fingers had curled tightly around the edge of her sleeve, a tiny movement I knew meant she was anxious. She kept glancing between us as though she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

“Go.”

Dannie's command crackled through my earpiece.

His team moved first, disappearing up the stairwell. There was no elevator in the five-storey building, so the stairs were the only way to reach the upper floors. I waited until the last man disappeared through the doorway before moving.

Then it was our turn.

Beng and Matteo remained on the ground floor, securing the entrance. Their job was to stop anyone from getting in—or out—and provide backup if any of the assault teams ran into trouble. I gave them one final glance before turning toward the stairs.

Then we moved.

We hadn't even reached the top when shouts echoed down the stairwell, followed by the unmistakable clang of metal striking metal.

A crash.

Furniture splintered against the floor.

I picked up my pace, taking the stairs two at a time. Clare swore behind me, telling me to slow down, but I barely heard her. My back screamed with every step, heat spreading beneath the bandages, but adrenaline drowned it out. The final flight seemed impossibly long before we finally burst through the doorway.

I froze for half a second.

I’d known we were heading into a private temple. I’d expected something quiet. Modest, perhaps. I hadn’t expected this.

The hall was grand and magnificent, its ornate carvings and towering pillars rising around us. Whatever serenity had once lived inside these walls was gone.

Chaos had taken its place.

Men fought with fists, blades and whatever they could get their hands on. Wooden stools and offering trays had been ripped from their places and hurled across the room. Sacred ornaments lay broken among overturned prayer candles, while offerings had been trampled beneath boots. Pieces of wood and shattered ceramic littered the floor, forcing me to step around them as I searched for an opening. Someone crashed into one of the pillars. Another man went down hard beside the altar.

The temple had become a battlefield, and no one seemed to care what they destroyed in the process.

Dannie roared, the sound seemed to shake the entire room.

He charged without hesitation, fear or mercy. His Chinese sword flashed through the air as though it weighed nothing. Every swing was precise. Every strike deliberate. He moved through the chaos with terrifying calm, turning effortlessly to avoid one attack before delivering another.

He slashed, punched and cut. Anyone reckless enough to stand in his path went down.

Seeing that side of Dannie ignited something deep inside me. Something I hadn't felt in years.