Chapter 13
The problem with falling for a professional liar is that you never knew when they were telling the truth. Hunter watched Eden work from across Darkness’s office, her fingers flying over three different keyboards as she reconstructed the evidence from her damaged laptop. She moved with the same lethal grace that had first caught his attention at the Devil’s Mark, but now he saw the cracks in her perfect facade—the slight tremor in her hands, the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes darted to him when she thought he wasn’t looking.
“Someone’s been using my credentials since Thompson died,”
she explained to everyone in the room—him, Darkness, and King— pulling up screen after screen of falsified reports.
“Making it look like I’ve been feeding intel to multiple agencies.”
“And we’re supposed to believe you didn’t write these?”
Darkness’s voice held dangerous skepticism.
“Check the timestamps.”
She highlighted a series of entries.
“Half these reports were filed while we were taking down the Devil’s Mark. Unless you think I was typing mission updates while dodging bullets and watching my father die?”
Hunter caught the slight break in her voice on the word ‘father.’ Whatever else she might be lying about, that pain was real.
“Romano’s trying to drive a wedge between us,”
she continued.
“Make you doubt my loyalty so you’ll cut me loose before I can expose his real operation.”
“Which is?”
Darkness leaned forward, his expression unreadable.
Eden glanced at Hunter, something vulnerable flickering across her face before she squared her shoulders. A part of him wanted to reach out and offer her reassurances, but he ignored it.
“He’s building a private army. Using the artifact smuggling to fund a military corporation that operates outside any government oversight.”
She pulled up financial records, shipping manifests, training rosters. The evidence was damning—and eerily familiar to Hunter.
“These training facilities.”
He moved closer to examine the blueprints.
“I’ve seen this setup before. Back when I was contracting for—”
He cut himself off, but Eden’s eyes narrowed.
“For who?”
When he didn’t answer, she pressed harder.
“You want me to trust you? Start talking.”
“Blackwater.”
The name fell like a stone in the quiet room.
“After my discharge, I did some work for private military contractors. Saw firsthand how they operated. How much power they had with zero accountability.”
“And now Romano’s building something even bigger.”
Eden pulled up more files.
“These shell companies? They’re not just moving money. They’re buying influence. Politicians, judges, military officials—anyone who might question his operation is either in his pocket or about to be eliminated.”
“Like your mother.”
King’s voice was surprisingly gentle. He’d been mostly quiet up until then, which made his words even more impactful.
Eden’s hands stilled on the keyboard.
“She found proof he was looting museums in war zones. Using the chaos of conflict to steal cultural artifacts, then laundering them through legitimate institutions. When she tried to expose him...”
“He had your father kill her,”
Hunter finished. The pieces were finally clicking into place.
“That’s why you joined the DEA. To get close enough to find evidence of the whole operation.”
She nodded, not meeting his eyes.
“Thompson was her handler back then. He helped cover up her murder, made it look like she’d gone rogue. I spent fifteen years believing she’d abandoned me, that she’d chosen money over family. But she died trying to stop Romano. Just like my father died protecting his secrets.”
“And now Romano’s targeting you.”
Darkness studied her with new intensity.
“Why not just kill you? Why the elaborate frame job?”
“Because I’m more valuable alive.”
Eden’s laugh held no humor.
“Think about it—a rogue federal agent with a personal vendetta, using a motorcycle club to wage war against legitimate businesses? When this goes bad, and it will, I’ll be the perfect scapegoat. The FBI will blame the DEA, the DEA will disavow me, and Romano’s operation gets painted as the victim of corrupt law enforcement.”
“Smart play.”
Hunter had to admire the elegance of it.
“He discredits any evidence you’ve gathered while strengthening his legitimate cover.”
“Exactly.”
She pulled up another file—security blueprints for the museum.
“Which is why we need to move fast. The new wing opens in four days. Once those artifacts are officially logged into the collection, they become untouchable. Romano’s entire operation gets legitimized overnight.”
King absorbed this in his quiet way, his expression thoughtful.
“You said you know how to stop him.”
“Better.”
Her smile was sharp as broken glass.
“I know how to destroy him. But I’ll need resources. And trust.”
“Trust goes both ways, darlin’.”
Darkness’s eyes narrowed.
“You’ve been holding back. What aren’t you telling us?”
Eden hesitated, then pulled up one final file. Hunter felt his breath catch as he recognized the name on the document.
“The museum curator?”
He moved closer to read over her shoulder.
“The one you’ve been working as a source?”
“Dr. Katherine Chen.”
Eden’s voice was carefully neutral as she brought up the image of the curator whose documentation she’d been studying for months.
“Harvard-educated expert in Near Eastern antiquities. The woman whose detailed reports on artifacts always seemed to highlight exactly what we needed to find. The curator who was at every dig site with my mother before she disappeared.”
She paused, letting the implications sink in.
“And Romano’s wife.”
Silence filled the office. Hunter caught Darkness and King’s eyes, seeing his own shock reflected back at him.
“Well,”
King said finally, “that complicates things.”
“It gets better.”
Eden brought up security footage showing the curator meeting with familiar faces.
“She’s been working with some of my father’s old crew. The ones who aren’t happy about new management at the Devil’s Mark.”
“The ones who tried to kill us yesterday.”
Hunter remembered the professional gear, the military precision of the attack.
“They’re not just hired guns. They’re part of Romano’s private army.”
“And they’re all going to be at the museum opening.”
Eden pulled up the guest list.
“Along with half the city’s elite, federal officials, and enough private security to start a small war.”
“Which is exactly what Romano wants.”
Understanding dawned in Hunter’s voice.
“If anything goes wrong, if anyone tries to expose the operation...”
“Bloodbath,”
King finished grimly.
“And guess who gets blamed for it?”
“The grieving daughter of a notorious criminal,”
Eden confirmed.
“Gone rogue with her outlaw lover to avenge her family’s honor. It writes itself.”
Hunter felt something twist in his chest at the word ‘lover.’ They still hadn’t talked about what was building between them—hadn’t had time between shootouts and revelations and the constant dance of trust and suspicion.
“So what’s your play?”
Darkness’s question pulled him back to the present.
Eden’s smile was pure predator.
“We give Romano exactly what he wants. The grieving daughter, the outlaw lover, the desperate revenge plot—all of it. We play our parts so perfectly he never sees the real threat coming.”
“Which is?”
“His wife.”
Eden highlighted Dr. Chen’s image.
“Katherine’s been keeping records of everything—every artifact, every transaction, every player in Romano’s organization. She’s his perfect alibi, his respectable front. But she’s also his biggest weakness.”
“Because she knows where all the bodies are buried,”
Hunter realized.
“Literally and figuratively.”
Eden nodded.
“And she’s ready to talk. All we have to do is get her safely away from Romano before the opening.”
“And you know this how?”
Darkness’s suspicion was back, echoing King’s and Hunter’s quiet concerns.
“Because I’m the one who’s been helping her gather evidence for the past year.”
Eden met their shocked stares steadily.
“You think I spent all that time cultivating her as a source just for the museum job? Katherine was my mother’s best friend. She’s been playing the devoted wife for fifteen years, documenting everything while she waited for a chance to bring Romano down.”
Hunter felt the ground shifting under him again. Every time he thought he understood Eden’s game, she revealed another layer of deception.
“That’s one hell of a risk,”
he said carefully.
“Trusting Romano’s wife.”
“Trust’s got nothing to do with it anymore.”
Eden threw his words from yesterday back at him, but there was something raw in her voice.
“This was never about trust. It’s about justice. Revenge. Making Romano pay for every life he’s destroyed.”
“And after?”
The question slipped out before Hunter could stop it.
“When this is all over, what then?”
Their eyes met across the room, electricity crackling between them. For a moment, he saw past her carefully constructed walls to the woman beneath—fierce and broken and beautiful in her determination.
“After doesn’t matter.”
She looked away first.
“All that matters is the next four days. We get Katherine out, we expose Romano’s operation, and we try not to die in the process. Simple.”
“Nothing about this is simple.”
Hunter moved closer, backing her against her desk.
“Including whatever this is between us.”
“Hunter.”
His name was a warning on her lips.
“No more lies.”
He trapped her there, one hand braced on either side of her.
“No more games. Whatever play we’re making against Romano, I need to know you’re not playing me too.”
She met his eyes, and for once he saw nothing but raw honesty there.
“I’ve lied about a lot of things. But not this. Not us.”
He shouldn’t believe her. Everything in his training, his experience, screamed that she was too good at deception, too skilled at manipulation. But when she reached up to trace his jaw, her fingers trembling slightly, he found himself leaning into her touch.
“Prove it,”
he challenged softly.
She kissed him like a drowning woman coming up for air. Every calculated wall she’d built since finding her mother’s body seemed to crumble in that moment. For years, she’d maintained perfect control—over her emotions, her expressions, her responses. Now, with Hunter, that control was slipping. It terrified her almost as much as it exhilarated her.
Her hands fisted in his shirt as he pressed her harder against the desk, pouring three days of doubt and desire and desperate need into the kiss. He tasted blood—hers or his, he wasn’t sure—and something darker, more dangerous.
Truth, maybe. Or just another perfect lie.
King cleared his throat loudly. They broke apart, both breathing heavily, but Hunter didn’t step back.
“If you two are done...”
Darkness’s voice held dry amusement.
“We’ve got a museum heist to plan. And Eden, darlin’?”
She raised an eyebrow, her lips still swollen from Hunter’s kiss.
“If you’re playing us?”
Darkness’s smile was all teeth.
“They’ll never find your body.”
The alpha in Hunter bristled at the threat, but Eden was unshaken. “Noted.”
She turned back to her computers, but Hunter felt her lean slightly into him, seeking contact.
“Now, about that heist...”
They spent the next hours planning, plotting, preparing for war. Hunter watched Eden work, seeing both the skilled operative and the wounded woman beneath. He still wasn’t sure he trusted her completely.
But watching her piece together their strategy, seeing the fierce determination in every line of her body, he knew one thing with absolute certainty: whatever game she was playing, whatever secrets she still held, he was already too far gone to walk away.
The next four days would either save them or destroy them completely. And Hunter found he didn’t care which outcome they were hurtling toward, as long as they faced it together.
Even if “together”
turned out to be just another beautiful lie.