Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Lachlan pushed the remote, and we rolled out of the garage into traffic—the city was alive with tourists hyped up on snow, holidays, and tomorrow night’s midnight countdown.
Xyst would just be warming up around ten. The calm before the usual late-night chaos.
He merged into traffic, one hand loose on the wheel.
“So,” he said. “How’s the situation with Hayes’s daughter coming along?”
I leaned back in the seat, forearm against the door, watching taillights stack ahead of us.
“She’s mine tomorrow night.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “That right?”
“Absolutely.”
“That sounds confident.”
“You heard me,” I said flatly. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment, and it’s finally lining up.”
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “That should make Nik happy.”
Christmas night flashed through my mind—her teeth sinking into my lip, the way she’d fought me without fear. Pure defiance. I’d misread her and paid for it.
I wasn’t about to miss this opportunity.
“I’ve had eyes on her every minute since the church.”
“Hayes move out of Gracie?”
“Yeah, into the Peregrine on Fifth and 61st.”
Lach whistled. “That place costs a fortune. Not the type of place where a mayor fresh out of office usually lands.”
“With Delgado’s money, he could buy the block,” I muttered.
“Tight security there too, I’m guessing.”
“Tight,” I nodded. “But with DarkMatter’s help, I’ve got access to every camera in and around the building—and two inside.”
“And?”
I exhaled through my nose.
“She looked like shit.” My tongue grazed the nearly healed split on my lower lip. “Wrapped in that miserable habit, as if it were suffocating her. No fire. No color in her face. Not the girl who tried to rip my throat out in the church.”
Her riotous red curls, freckles across her nose, and full red lips flashed through my head. I’d always been a sucker for freckles, ever since I was a boy in primary school.
“If she were mine,” I held up a finger, “she wouldn’t be dressed in sackcloth. She’d have the finest clothes money could buy from head to toe.”
Lach shot me a glance. “You’re drifting.”
Fuck.
I dropped my hand and slammed that door shut in my head fast.
“No.”
He chuckled, not buying it.
“Doesn’t matter. Whatever she’s pretending to be, it’s not the truth. And whatever Hayes says he’s doing for her—it’s a lie.”
That part didn’t need imagination.
I’d spent the last few days studying everything I could find on her and watching her closely in Hayes’s new home. There were always people coming and going—politicians, donors, staff. Hayes was always polished, moving through his own home as if it were a campaign event—the man never relaxed.
“Hayes only engages with the girl when there’s a camera,” I went on. “When the lens is off, she barely exists.”
Lach blew out a breath. “Like a caged animal.”
“That’s the part that doesn’t sit right,” I couldn’t shake the sense that I was missing something. “The only family she has keeps her locked away.”
Whatever was wrong in her life ran deeper than the religion that had been used to control her. Regardless of the mask she wore for the world, I’d already caught a glimpse of what lived underneath it.
Traffic backed up at the red light. There were too many people out for a Tuesday, half of them already drunk.
Lachlan eased to a stop. “You’ve been watchin’ her, but what about him? You learn anything useful about the mayor besides the obvious—that he’s a smug cunt?”
“Yeah.” I let out a dry huff. “Between what Nik pulled and what I added, it’s a long fucking list.”
“So what are we actually talking about here? City corruption, or something bigger?”
“Bigger. Delgado’s not just running MS-13 out of Manhattan. That’s only the visible part.”
“And underneath?”
“Flesh trafficking on an international scale.” I couldn’t keep the raw anger out of my voice.
“Girls are moved like cargo. Bought and sold through private clubs, offshore properties, and shell charities that look legitimate enough to keep attention off the men involved. Delgado runs distribution—runs violence like a business.”
“And Hayes fits where?”
“He’s not on the edge of it by a long shot.
He’s inside. He doesn’t run the operation, but he helps keep it clean—permits, inspections, zoning.
Political pressure applied in the right places so no one asks why certain buildings never get raided, why company books never get audited, why cases stall before they ever see a courtroom. ”
“So Delgado pays him big bucks.”
“Yes. And Hayes delivers.” I shifted in my seat. “Not just in New York. The money coming through his channels doesn’t stop here. It ties into the same circles Nik has flagged before—ultra-wealthy businessmen, foreign power brokers, men who don’t answer subpoenas because no one dares issue them.”
The light flipped, and traffic started moving again.
“And now Hayes is running for a Senate seat in a special election,” I continued. “It’s perfect timing. He sells himself as the man who’ll clean up organized crime while taking money from the worst of it.”
“And he gets paid through campaign donations,” Lach said, shaking his head.
“Exactly,” I agreed. “Not just Wall Street bullshit. Foreign money. Cartel-adjacent money. Cash routed through Super PACs so no one has to answer questions. Legalized money laundering, if you ask me.”
Lach grunted in agreement. “So he’s completely bought off.”
“That’s right. And now it’s paying dividends.”
“And if Delgado’s running auctions,” he said slowly, “if powerful men are paying for young girls—”
“Then Hayes knows exactly what he’s protecting.”
“That’s why he hid his daughter.”
“Aye.”
We pulled up in front of Xyst a minute later. One of the curbside spots Slade kept clear was waiting for us. Lach killed the engine, and we stepped out, the bass from inside bleeding through the front doors.
Slade spotted us before we took another step. He opened the door, the music and heat rolling out to meet us.
“Evenin’,” he said, stepping aside.
“How’s it goin’?” Lach asked.
He grinned. “You know, the holidays bring out the most in people. Damen Jasper and Toxic Romance have been great crowd-pleasers this week. The ladies eat that shit up.”
“Yeah, Damen was always one of Ana’s favorites. I’m sure she’ll love catching up with him tonight,” I chuckled and patted Slade on the back as we crossed inside.
Xyst was alive on the main floor—lights flashing, music rolling through the room, the bar packed three deep, bodies loosening up. Not peak yet. This hour was for men who still had enough sense not to make expensive mistakes.
Lach and I cut through the crowd. No one stepped into our space. No one tried to talk.
We headed straight for the elevator.
The doors opened onto Xyst’s upper level—quiet, carpeted, warm with the faint scent of whiskey and perfume that never left this place.
My shoulders loosened a fraction. This floor was ours. No gawkers. No suits trying to impress. No idiots thinking a little money made them untouchable.
Downstairs was theater. Up here was business.
Aria sat behind the desk facing the elevator doors. She wore a sleek black blazer, hair pulled back, attention already on us. She was beautiful in a cool, self-possessed way that made men forget they were being managed.
She looked up and smiled, already expecting us.
“Evening, boys.”
“Aria,” I said, stopping in front of the desk.
Lach dipped his chin in greeting.
Aria’s gaze flicked over us in a quick, habitual assessment. “Everyone’s already in the office.”
She opened a drawer, pulled out a slim folder, and stepped out from behind the desk to hand it to me.
“Nik wanted to make sure you had these. There are a few new connections between Delgado and Hayes that they’ve worked hard to bury. But you know Nik—he can find a needle in a haystack. Hayes helping Delgado take Lacey was a huge mistake. Nik’s more than ready to retaliate.”
I took the folder. “Anything useful?”
“A few confirmations,” she said. “Some timelines that finally line up.”
Lach huffed quietly. “I’m surprised Hayes is still breathing.”
Aria’s mouth curved, restrained but amused. “Nik’s in there with the others. Lacey’s with him. Oh, and Anastasia and Conan are here too.”
I missed Ana managing the club. She helped as much as she could remotely, but it wasn’t the same without her here. She’d always known how to defuse me before I did something stupid. “Nik mentioned they were coming. How’s Ana doing?”
Her expression softened immediately. “She’s doing really well. Glowing, honestly. Being a mama-to-be suits her.”
I hadn’t seen Ana in months. The last time she’d been in the city, she’d packed up the Chelsea brownstone that she loved and had me rent it out instead of selling it. I wondered if she’d move back, but with the baby on the way, that wasn’t likely.
“And how’s Conan holding up?” I asked.
“He’s hovering,” Aria chuckled. “Protective. Proud. Exactly what you’d expect.”
I nodded. “I’m assuming tonight’s security’s been adjusted?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Between having both his wife and sister here, Nik’s got the place locked down tight. He’s not taking chances with either of them.”
That tracked perfectly.
She stepped aside, angling toward the hallway. “I’m sure they’re eager to see you guys.”
“Thanks, Aria,” I said.
She smiled. “Anytime.”
Lach and I headed down the hallway toward the office, the low thrum of Xyst rising beneath our feet.
The private office sat above the club, sealed behind a thick door and soundproofed walls—a place that had heard every plan we’d ever made.
Lach opened it without knocking.
Familiar voices and the smell of food filled the space. Open takeout cartons covered the conference table, along with a bottle of Irish whiskey pushed to one side, water glasses, and a half-empty tray of pastries.