Chapter 17
The first rule of being captured is to control your breathing. Eden focused on this basic training as she tested the restraints binding her to the chair, keeping her breaths slow and steady despite the blood trickling down her temple.
The warehouse around her was industrial-clean, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights that left no shadows for secrets.
Twenty-four hours after Victor Romano’s capture, they’d implemented their carefully crafted plan. For days following the meeting with Darkness, they’d meticulously prepared—establishing surveillance positions, mapping Aleksander’s patterns, rehearsing scenarios. The club had committed significant resources, positioning members strategically throughout the city.
“You'll have exactly one shot at this,”
Darkness had warned during their final briefing.
“Romano’s brother is too smart to fall for anything less than perfect.”
He didn’t have to tell her. She knew all too well what Alexander was capable of.
This morning, Eden had deliberately made herself visible at the café where Aleksander’s men had been spotted. She’d appeared distracted, vulnerable—the perfect target. When the black SUV had pulled alongside her, she’d put up just enough resistance to seem genuine without compromising the operation. The abduction itself had gone exactly as predicted, following the route they’d prepared for.
Now, sitting in Aleksander’s warehouse, she was exactly where she needed to be. All according to plan.
“Comfortable?”
The accented voice came from behind her.
“I do apologize for the accommodations, but given your particular skill set...”
“Cut the polite captor act.”
Eden kept her tone bored despite her racing pulse.
“We both know this ends one of two ways—either you kill me, or I kill you. Let’s not pretend this is a social call.”
Aleksander Romano—Viktor’s younger brother and the true power behind their international operation—stepped into view. He shared his brother’s expensive taste in suits, the charcoal Brioni custom-tailored to his leaner, more athletic frame.
Unlike Viktor’s carefully cultivated sophistication, Aleksander carried himself with the coiled readiness of a career operative. His features were sharper than his brother’s—higher cheekbones, more prominent jawline, and eyes that assessed with cold calculation rather than feigned warmth.
Where Viktor’s manicured hands suggested a man who delegated violence, Aleksander’s bore the telltale calluses and slight scarring of someone intimately familiar with both weapons and close combat. This was a man who enjoyed getting his hands dirty.
“Always so direct.”
He smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes.
“That’s what I admired about you, you know. Even undercover, you never quite learned to play politics. It makes you...refreshing.”
“Glad I could entertain.”
She cataloged details automatically—the way he favored his right side, the bulge of a shoulder holster under his jacket, the four armed guards positioned around the room.
“Though I have to say, this seems like a lot of effort just to reminisce about my personality flaws.”
“Perhaps I simply wanted to meet the woman who dismantled my brother’s careful plans.”
He pulled up a chair, sitting just out of reach.
“Do you know how long we spent positioning Viktor within federal law enforcement? How many years of careful manipulation it took to build his cover?”
“Fifteen years.”
Eden met his gaze steadily.
“Since you ordered him to have my mother killed.”
Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe. Or respect.
“You figured that out, did you?”
“Viktor was the face of the operation, but he never had the stomach for wet work. You, on the other hand...”
She smiled without warmth.
“You’re the one who gets called when things need to get messy. Like now.”
“Smart girl.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“Then you understand why this conversation can only end one way.”
“Because I know too much?”
She almost laughed.
“I knew too much the moment I found my mother’s body. The only difference is now I have proof.”
“Ah yes, the proof.”
Aleksander’s smile turned cruel.
“Currently being downloaded from secure servers by federal agents who don’t realize their entire network has been compromised. By the time they figure it out, the evidence will be gone and their own security protocols will have sent them on a wild goose chase across three continents.”
Eden kept her expression neutral even as her mind raced. If he was telling the truth, the FBI task force was walking into a trap. Everything she’d sacrificed would be for nothing.
“Of course,”
he continued conversationally, “there’s still the matter of your backup files. The ones you gave to your motorcycle club friend.”
Ice formed in her stomach.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No?”
He pulled out his phone, showing her a live video feed. On the screen, Hunter moved through what appeared to be a parking garage, unaware of the laser sight painting a target on his back.
“Perhaps this will refresh your memory.”
“He doesn’t have anything.”
The words came out faster than intended.
“The files went to—”
“Your friend Darkness?”
Aleksander’s laugh was cold.
“The Blind Jacks president is currently dealing with his own problems. It seems several rival clubs chose this moment to dispute territory. Amazing coincidence, isn’t it?”
Eden’s mind spun through possibilities, calculating odds and angles. The Blind Jacks were tough, but a coordinated attack from multiple clubs would stretch them thin. And Hunter.
“What do you want?”
She kept her voice steady even as her hands worked at the restraints.
“Everything.”
Aleksander stood, straightening his already-perfect suit.
“The backup files. The federal contacts you haven’t exposed yet. The names of every agent who helped you build the case against Viktor. And most importantly...”
His smile turned shark-like.
“I want the bearer bonds you redirected before my brother’s arrest.”
Now Eden did laugh.
“You think I kept them? Those bonds were logged into evidence hours after the museum job.”
“The decoy bonds were logged into evidence,”
he corrected.
“The real ones—the ones worth nearly a billion dollars—disappeared somewhere between the airport and the federal building. And you’re going to tell me where they are.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me?”
She met his eyes steadily.
“We’ve already established that’s happening anyway.”
“True.”
He nodded to one of his men, who moved to adjust the video feed. Now Hunter appeared on multiple screens, along with Darkness, King, and several other Blind Jacks. All of them with laser sights painting targets on their backs.
“But how they die—quick and clean, or slowly and painfully, that’s entirely up to you.”
Eden went very still. In all her planning, all her careful manipulation of players and events, she’d miscalculated one crucial factor: she cared. Despite everything, despite knowing better, she’d let herself care about these outlaws who’d become the closest thing to family she’d had since her mother’s death.
And now that weakness would get them killed.
“Tick tock.”
Aleksander checked his watch.
“My snipers are very good, but even they get bored eventually. Their fingers might slip—”
“Wait.”
The word tasted like defeat.
“I’ll tell you where the bonds are.”
“I thought you might.”
His smile was triumphant.
“And the backup files?”
“Hidden.”
She took a careful breath.
“I’ll need access to a secure terminal to retrieve them.”
“Do you really expect me to fall for that?”
But he looked amused rather than angry.
“No, my dear. You’ll give me the location, and my men will retrieve everything. Then, if you’re very lucky, I’ll make your death quick.”
“The files are encrypted.”
Not entirely a lie.
“Biometric locks, time-sealed protocols. You try to force them and everything gets dumped to every law enforcement agency in the country.”
Aleksander studied her for a long moment, then nodded to one of his men.
“Check her for tracking devices, then take her to the secure room. Watch her carefully. She’s more dangerous than she looks.”
“Sir.”
The guard moved forward with a handheld scanner.
“What about the bikers?”
“Keep them in our sights.”
Aleksander headed for the door.
“If she tries anything, kill them all. Starting with the handsome one she’s so fond of.”
Eden forced herself not to react as the guard checked her for trackers. Her plan had exactly one chance of working, and it required perfect timing.
The guard found nothing because there was nothing to find. Everything had been taken when she was captured—weapons, phone, even her boots. They’d been very thorough.
Which was exactly what she’d been counting on.
They led her to a small room dominated by computers and communications equipment. Everything high-end, everything secured behind multiple layers of protection.
“You have ten minutes.”
Aleksander’s voice was cold.
“After that, people start dying.”
Eden sat at the main terminal, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. In her head, she counted down from sixty.
Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven.
“The bonds first.”
Aleksander moved to watch over her shoulder.
“Then the files.”
She began typing, appearing to access hidden accounts while actually implementing a very specific sequence of commands. One she’d designed years ago for exactly this type of situation.
Forty-three. Forty-two. Forty-one.
“Sir!”
One of the guards burst in.
“We’ve got movement at the perimeter.”
“Handle it.”
Aleksander didn’t look away from the screen. “Well?”
“Almost there.”
Eden’s fingers flew across the keyboard.
“The bonds were moved through a series of offshore accounts. It takes time to—”
An explosion rocked the building.
Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven. Twenty-six.
“Sir!”
Another guard.
“Multiple breaches! They’re coming from all sides!”
Now Aleksander did look away, barking orders into a radio. Eden kept typing, implementing the final sequence.
Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen.
“It’s the Blind Jacks!”
someone shouted.
“They’ve got backup from—”
Another explosion cut him off. Closer this time.
Eight. Seven. Six.
“Step away from the computer.”
Aleksander’s gun pressed against her head. “Now.”
Eden smiled.
“Too late.”
Zero.
Every screen in the room lit up with the same message: PROTOCOL OMEGA INITIATED.
Then everything went dark.
The backup generator kicked in almost immediately, but those few seconds of darkness were all she needed. Eden drove an elbow back into Aleksander’s solar plexus, using his own gun arm as leverage to flip him over her shoulder. His weapon clattered away as more explosions rocked the building.
She didn’t waste time with a fight. The guards were already rushing back in, and she could hear gunfire getting closer. Instead, she dove for the ventilation duct she’d spotted earlier.
“Find her!”
Aleksander’s rage followed her into the darkness.
“And kill anyone who tries to breach this building!”
Eden army-crawled through the duct, counting turns. Left, right, straight for twenty feet, then... There. The maintenance access she’d memorized from the blueprints her father had given her.
Amazing how helpful a man could be when he thought he was betraying you to save his own skin.
She dropped into a narrow corridor just as another explosion hit, this one close enough to feel the heat. Through the walls, she heard the distinctive sound of motorcycle engines and automatic weapons.
Her earpiece crackled to life right on schedule.
“Package is moving according to plan,”
Hunter’s voice was the best thing she’d heard in hours.
“Team two is in position for file extraction.”
“Good,”
she replied, already running toward the rendezvous point.
“Stick to the timeline. Primary objective is the files.”
“Eden—”
his tone carried concern rather than confusion.
“The files are the priority,”
she cut him off, knowing he was about to argue about her safety.
“Everything we need to take down their entire operation is in that room. Including proof of who really killed my mother.”
A pause. Then, “Your distraction worked perfectly. They never suspected you wanted to be brought here.”
“The best way into a fortress is to be invited.”
She found the maintenance door she needed.
“Step one complete. Now for step two.”
“Just maintain the timeline we agreed on.”
His voice was tight with what she recognized as protective concern rather than anger.
“Darkness has the extraction team ready at the secondary point.”
“Affirmative. We’re on schedule.”
“Dammit, Eden—”
She could hear his struggle between operational necessity and personal concern.
“Hunter,”
she cut him off again as she heard footsteps approaching.
“We can discuss my trust issues later. Right now, I need you to focus on the mission. Get the files. Expose their operation. End this.”
“And what about you?”
She smiled into the darkness as she prepared to run.
“I’ve got my own mission to complete.”
“Eden—”
She switched off the earpiece. Through the walls, she heard the Blind Jacks engaging Romano’s forces. The distraction would give her the time she needed to reach the real target—the evidence Romano’s brother thought was safely hidden in his private office.
The truth about her mother’s murder. About Romano’s operation. About everything. Including what Katherine had been documenting all these years—the systematic connections between artifact trafficking, political corruption, and private military contracting that Katherine had meticulously tracked while maintaining her museum curator cover. The evidence Katherine had preserved using the same documentation techniques their mother had pioneered, creating a paper trail disguised as academic recordkeeping.
More explosions rocked the building as she ran. The Blind Jacks were putting on quite a show, enough chaos and destruction to convince Romano’s people that this was a straightforward rescue attempt rather than a carefully orchestrated infiltration.
Her bare feet made no sound on the concrete as she navigated the maze-like facility. Three years of planning, of gathering intel and building contingencies, had led to this moment. She wouldn’t waste it.
A guard appeared around the corner. Eden took him down before he could raise his weapon, appropriating his gun and access card. Two more fell to quick, silent strikes before she reached her destination. A heavy steel door marked “Private.”
The access card worked. Of course it did. She’d made sure the guard she took it from had the highest security clearance.
Inside, Aleksander Romano’s private office was everything she expected—expensive, secure, and full of evidence he thought was safely hidden. Eden moved quickly, accessing his private server while downloading everything to the drive concealed in her hair tie.
A photo on his desk caught her eye. Viktor and Aleksander Romano, fifteen years younger, standing with her father. The younger Merrick Mitchell looked different then—less weathered, his beard still mostly dark, though his eyes already carried the calculating coldness she remembered from childhood. And there, in the background, barely visible but unmistakable...
Her mother.
Sarah Mitchell’s elegant features captured in profile, her honey-blonde hair—the same shade Eden had inherited—pulled back in a practical style that emphasized her high cheekbones and watchful eyes. Very much alive on the day she was supposed to have died.
Eden’s hands shook slightly as she pocketed the photo. Another piece of the puzzle she’d been assembling since finding her mother’s real body three years ago.
The download completed just as gunfire erupted outside the office. Time to go.
She was halfway to the emergency exit when Aleksander’s voice stopped her.
“I have to admit.”
He slow-clapped from the doorway.
“This was beautifully played. Using yourself as bait, letting us think we had the upper hand... Your mother would be proud.”
Eden turned slowly, keeping her stolen weapon aimed at her mother’s killer’s chest.
“You’d know all about wouldn’t you.”
“Sarah was a remarkable woman.”
He didn’t seem concerned about the gun.
“Much like you, she had a talent for getting into secure places. Unlike you, she didn’t know when to stop digging.”
“She found proof.”
Eden’s voice was steady despite her racing heart.
“Not just about the artifacts or the money laundering. She found out what you were really building.”
“A new world order.”
Aleksander spread his hands.
“One where power isn’t limited by borders or governments. Where men like me can operate freely, without interference from...inconvenient laws.”
“She was your friend.”
The words tasted like ash.
“She trusted you.”
“She was a liability.”
His smile turned cruel.
“Just like you’ve become. Though I have to say, watching you tear apart Viktor’s operation was almost worth it. You really are your mother’s daughter.”
“You have no idea.”
Eden’s smile matched his for cruelty.
“Mom taught me a lot of things before you killed her. Want to know the most important lesson?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Always have a backup plan.”
The explosion that rocked the building this time wasn’t the Blind Jacks. It was the charges Eden had planted in Aleksander’s private server, timed to detonate the moment her download completed.
She fired twice—not to kill, but to disable—then ran as the office went up in flames. Behind her, Aleksander’s rage-filled scream promised retribution.
Eden ran through smoke and chaos, her stolen gun clearing a path through panicked guards. The Blind Jacks were pulling back now, their part in this elaborate dance complete.
She reached the extraction point just as Hunter pulled up on his bike. Even through smoke and chaos, she recognized the relief that flashed across his features when he spotted her. It was quickly masked by professional focus, but it was unmistakable to someone who’d learned to read his micro-expressions.
“You’re insane.”
But he was grinning as she swung up behind him, his hand briefly covering hers when she settled against him—a momentary reassurance that communicated everything words couldn’t.
“You know that, right?”
“Less talking, more driving.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, allowing herself the comfort of physical contact after twenty-four hours of calculated risk. The solid warmth of him beneath her hands provided grounding beyond tactical necessity, a connection that had become essential rather than convenient.
More explosions lit up the night, but with Hunter, Eden found herself feeling something dangerously close to safe, despite the chaos surrounding them.
“We’ve got about thirty seconds before—”
The rest of the charges went off, taking Romano’s entire operation with them. Eden felt the heat on her back as Hunter gunned the engine, carrying them away from the destruction.
“Tell me you got what we needed.”
His voice carried over the wind.
Eden patted the drive hidden in her hair.
“Everything. Including proof of who really killed my mother, and why.”
“Going to share with the class?”
“Later.”
She pressed closer, letting herself feel the fear and exhaustion she’d been holding at bay.
“Right now, I just want—”
“I know.”
His hand covered hers where it rested on his chest.
“I’ve got you.”
They rode through darkness toward the Blind Jacks compound, leaving fire and destruction in their wake. Behind them, Aleksander Romano was no doubt already calling in resources, preparing for war.
Eden closed her eyes, feeling Hunter’s heartbeat under her fingers. They’d won this battle, but the war was far from over. Romano’s international network was still intact, still powerful.
But for the first time since finding her mother’s body, Eden had real proof. Real hope.
And something else she hadn’t expected: someone to watch her back while she finished what her mother had started.
Even if that someone was an outlaw who made her question everything she thought she knew about right and wrong.
Even if loving him might get them both killed.
The night stretched ahead, full of possibilities and dangers. Eden held on tighter as Hunter opened up the throttle, carrying them faster into the darkness.
They reached the compound to find it under siege. Multiple rival MC crews had surrounded the main perimeter, just as Aleksander had promised. But the Blind Jacks hadn’t survived this long by being unprepared.
Hunter guided them through a concealed access road—a narrow passage obscured by dense foliage and debris that appeared impassable to anyone who didn’t know exactly where to look. It had been built years ago as a contingency for precisely this kind of situation.
“Club insurance policy,”
Hunter explained as they navigated the hidden path.
“Only patched members know about this entrance. Not even prospects are told until they earn their cut.”
The route deposited them safely inside the compound’s defensive perimeter, allowing them to bypass the rival crews who remained focused on the main gates, completely unaware their targets had slipped right past them.
“Took you long enough,”
Darkness called from behind a makeshift barricade. He looked more annoyed than concerned about the ongoing firefight.
“Your plan work?”
Eden tossed him the drive.
“Everything we need to take down Romano’s entire operation. Including his international contacts.”
“And his brother?”
“Pissed off and probably on his way here.”
She accepted a spare weapon from one of the patches.
“How many crews we dealing with?”
“Four. So far.”
Darkness’s smile was all teeth.
“Though they’re finding out why you don’t mess with the Blind Jacks.”
As if to emphasize his point, another explosion lit up the perimeter. Eden recognized the handiwork of the club’s demolitions expert.
“We need to move this somewhere more secure,”
she said, nodding at the drive.
“Once Aleksander realizes what I took...”
“Already handled.”
Darkness handed the drive to King, who then handed it to a prospect on a fast bike.
“Dead drops and secure servers across three states. By morning, every law enforcement agency in the country will have copies.”
Eden was impressed. It was no doubt a plan King had put into place long before she’d come along. It made her wonder what kind of things they’d been doing that she didn’t know about to warrant having such contingencies in place.
“Along with proof of which agents are compromised,”
Hunter added.
“Romano’s entire network exposed.”
Eden felt something tight in her chest loosen slightly.
“It’s really over?”
“The easy part’s over,”
King corrected.
“Now comes the war.”
As if on cue, more vehicles appeared at the perimeter—not rival MCs this time, but the kind of tactical vehicles that screamed private military contractor.
“Aleksander’s not wasting any time.”
Hunter moved to cover Eden as gunfire erupted.
“Got another backup plan?”
She checked her weapon, falling naturally into position beside him.
“Several. But right now? Right now, I just want to hurt them.”
His answering smile was pure predator.
“That’s my girl.”
They moved together like they’d been fighting side by side for years, clearing threats with deadly precision as Darkness coordinated the club’s defense. Eden lost herself in the familiar dance of combat, letting instinct and training take over.
Hours later, as dawn painted the sky in shades of blood and fire, they finally had a moment to breathe. Romano’s forces had pulled back, leaving destruction and dead mercenaries in their wake. The rival MCs had scattered after losing too many patches to the Blind Jacks’ superior tactical position.
Eden found Hunter on the clubhouse roof, watching the sunrise with a bottle of whiskey.
“Hell of a third date,”
he said as she settled beside him.
She couldn’t help but laugh.
“Is that what this is?”
“Well, let’s see.”
He pretended to count on his fingers.
“We’ve had shootouts, explosions, high-speed chases, complex betrayals... Seems about right for us.”
“Hunter.”
She took the bottle, needing liquid courage for what came next.
“What happens now?”
“Now?”
He turned to face her fully.
“Now we hunt down every piece of Romano’s operation. We dismantle everything he and his brother built. We get justice for your mother. And we try not to die in the process.”
“Simple as that?”
“Nothing about this is simple.”
He reached out to trace the bruise darkening her jaw.
“But I’m in if you are.”
Eden leaned into his touch, letting herself feel everything she’d been holding back—fear, exhaustion, and something dangerous and warm that felt a lot like hope.
“Even knowing I’ll probably get us both killed?”
The question carried all her fears—that caring made her vulnerable, that emotional connection compromised operational security, that whatever grew between them would inevitably be weaponized against them.
His laugh rumbled through her where their bodies touched, but his eyes held serious understanding. “Eden.”
He said her name like a promise, fingers tracing the bruise on her jaw with unexpected gentleness.
“I’ve spent my life calculating risks. This—us—isn’t a liability.”
His hand settled at the nape of her neck, thumb brushing her pulse point.
“It’s why we fight at all.”
The simple honesty in his words made something shift inside her—decades of learned isolation confronted by the possibility of partnership based on mutual recognition rather than convenience or necessity.
“Baby, you had me at ‘let’s infiltrate an international crime syndicate.’”
His smile softened the declaration, but the truth beneath remained clear. He’d chosen her, complications and all, with full understanding of what that choice might cost.
She kissed him then, tasting whiskey and gunpowder and promises neither of them should make. When they finally broke apart, the sun had fully risen, painting the world in harsh light that left nowhere to hide.
Below them, the Blind Jacks were already rebuilding their defenses, preparing for the next wave of Romano’s retaliation. For the first time since finding her mother’s body, Eden didn’t feel alone in the fight.
“Ready for this?”
Hunter asked as they heard vehicles approaching in the distance.
Eden checked her weapons and smiled—the same sharp, dangerous smile that had first caught his attention across a crowded bar that felt like a lifetime ago.
“Born ready.”
The future stretched ahead, full of blood and betrayal and the promise of violence. But with Hunter at her side and the Blind Jacks at her back, Eden was finally ready to face whatever came next.
Even if it killed them both.
Especially if it killed them both.
After all, the best love stories were written in blood.