Chapter 17
“Stay down,” Marcus commands, already moving with lethal efficiency despite having been dead asleep moments ago.
His hands fly over the control panel he’d turned off earlier, bringing all his monitors back online in a cascade of blue light.
“Explosive device in the parking garage. Professional grade, designed to take out structural supports.”
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I can see smoke billowing from the lower levels of the building. The city lights that had seemed so beautiful hours ago now illuminate a war zone, and I realize with cold clarity that our enemies have just made their first direct move.
“How many?” I ask, reaching for the clothes scattered across his bedroom floor.
“Unclear. Thermal imaging is compromised by the fire, but I’m reading at least twelve heat signatures moving through the building.
” Marcus is already fully dressed, moving with the kind of practiced efficiency that comes from years of preparing for exactly this scenario.
“They’ve disabled the elevators and blocked the main stairwells. We’re trapped.”
My phone buzzes with incoming calls—Dom then Axel then Kieran. I answer Dom’s, putting it on speaker as I finish pulling on my boots.
“Raven, where the hell are you?” His voice is tight with controlled fury and barely concealed panic. “Someone just tried to blow up Marcus’s building.”
“I’m with Marcus. We’re okay for now, but we’re trapped on the thirtieth floor.” I move to the windows, assessing our options. “What’s the situation on your end?”
“Coordinated attacks across the city. The Obsidian is under siege. Three of our safe houses have been hit, and there’s been an attempt on Kieran’s life.
” Dom’s report is delivered with military precision, but I can hear the underlying tension.
“This isn’t random violence, Raven. Someone is trying to eliminate all of us simultaneously. ”
“Fuck. Hold on.” I switch over to Axel, his voice crackling through what sounds like gunfire.
“Having a party down here without me?” Somehow, his tone maintains that familiar wild edge. “Because I have to say, these Volkov assholes have terrible timing. I was in the middle of a really good dream about you and that thing you do with your—”
“Axel, focus.” Despite everything, his irreverence makes something tight in my chest loosen slightly. “Where are you?”
“Obsidian’s east entrance, playing pest control with about six guys who think they’re better with knives than I am.” The sound of metal on metal comes through the speaker, followed by a grunt of effort. “They’re wrong, by the way. Dom’s handling the main floor, but we’ve got more incoming.”
Marcus’s fingers are flying over multiple keyboards, bringing up building schematics and escape routes. “The structural damage is contained to levels one through five, but they’ll be working their way up. We have maybe fifteen minutes before they reach this floor.”
“Hold on, Axel.” I switch over to Keiran.
“I’m watching from the Sterling building. They’ve got professional tactical teams, not just street muscle. Military-grade equipment, coordinated timing, extraction vehicles already in position. You have ten minutes, tops.”
“Who ordered this?” I ask, though part of me already knows the answer.
“Best guess? Coalition of enemies who decided we were becoming too much of a threat.” Kieran’s voice is grim.
“Sterling family elders, what’s left of the Volkov operation, maybe some other organizations who don’t appreciate your rapid expansion…
The question is how they coordinated without us knowing. ”
Marcus’s screens suddenly flicker, several monitors going dark simultaneously.
“They’re in our system,” he says, his voice sharp, but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he’s slightly impressed. “Whoever planned this knows exactly how I operate. They’re systematically disabling my technological advantages.”
“Fuck,” I mutter as I link the calls so that we can all talk together. “This isn’t just about eliminating us. It’s about humiliating us first. Showing the entire underworld that we can be outmaneuvered and destroyed.”
“Let them try,” Dom’s voice growls through the speaker. “I’ve been looking forward to reminding people why they used to cross the street when they saw Vincent Blackwood’s enforcer coming.”
“Dom’s right,” Axel adds, the sound of his movement sharp and violent in the background. “We’ve been playing defense too long. Time to show these bastards what happens when you come for our girl.”
The possessive pride in their voices does something warm and fierce in my chest. These men—my men—are facing coordinated attacks across the city, trapped in a building under siege, outnumbered and outgunned, but instead of panic, I hear anticipation.
They’ve been waiting for an excuse to unleash everything they’ve been holding back.
“Marcus, what’s our tactical assessment?” I ask, moving away from sentiment toward strategy.
“Suboptimal but not hopeless.” His fingers dance across the remaining functional keyboards.
“The structural damage limits their approach routes. If we can reach the twenty-second floor, there’s an emergency bridge to the adjacent building.
From there, we can rally with Dom and Axel at the Obsidian. ”
“And then?”
“Then we stop playing by their rules and start playing by ours.” Marcus’s smile is ruthless. “Kieran, are you in position to provide overwatch?”
“Already am. I’ve got sniper rifles positioned on three different floors of the Sterling building, plus electronic jamming equipment to disrupt their communications.
” Kieran’s voice carries grim satisfaction.
“Turns out all those years of tactical training my family insisted on are about to prove useful.”
The coordination between them is seamless, natural in a way that surprises me.
These four men who started as rivals, who’ve spent months navigating complicated jealousies and territorial instincts, are suddenly functioning like parts of a well-oiled machine.
United by the threat to something they all value more than their individual pride.
Me.
“Movement in the stairwell,” Marcus reports, his voice sharp with focus. “They’re twenty floors down but climbing fast.”
“Time to go,” I say, checking the gun holstered at my hip. “Dom, Axel, clear us a path to the Obsidian. Kieran, keep those snipers busy. Marcus and I will make our way to you.”
“Raven.” Dom’s voice stops me before I can hang up. “Be careful. These aren’t street thugs or desperate gangsters. They’re professionals, and they’re here specifically for you.”
“I know.” I touch the knife sheathed at my thigh. I also have my Glock. “But they made one critical mistake.”
“What’s that?”
“They planned for Vincent Blackwood’s daughter.” I look at Marcus, who’s securing additional weapons and ammunition with calm efficiency. “They didn’t plan for Vincent Blackwood’s daughter with four of the most dangerous men in this city willing to die for her.”
The coordinated response that follows is like watching a symphony of violence conducted by men who’ve finally found something worth protecting together.
Through Marcus’s remaining monitors, I watch Dom systematically dismantle the team that tried to breach the Obsidian’s main floor.
His movements are brutal, efficient, tinged with the kind of cold fury that made him legendary even when he was just Vincent’s enforcer.
Axel is poetry in motion at the east entrance, his lithe frame moving like liquid mercury between opponents who never see him coming until his knife finds its target. The wild energy that makes him so unpredictable in normal situations becomes devastating precision in actual combat.
From his perch in the Sterling building, Kieran’s sniper fire creates chaos in the enemy’s carefully coordinated approach. His shots aren’t meant to kill—though some do—but to disrupt, to force them off their planned routes and into kill zones established by Dom and Axel.
And Marcus, moving beside me through the darkened floors of his compromised fortress, proves that all those years of intelligence work haven’t made him soft. When we encounter resistance on the twenty-fourth floor, his response is swift, silent, and absolutely lethal.
“Stairwell’s clear for now,” he murmurs, stepping over bodies with the same casual efficiency he brings to analyzing data. “Bridge access in sixty seconds.”
But as we move through the destroyed remains of what had been his secure refuge, I see something in Marcus’s expression that speaks to a deeper transformation.
This isn’t just about protecting me or defending territory.
This is about four men who’ve discovered that their individual strengths become exponentially more powerful when combined.
Dom’s raw physical dominance, Axel’s unpredictable adaptability, Kieran’s strategic positioning, and Marcus’s technological superiority—separately formidable, together virtually unstoppable.
The emergency bridge between buildings is a narrow span of reinforced steel and glass, designed for evacuations exactly like this one.
As we cross thirty floors above the street, with smoke and flames visible below and the sound of gunfire echoing through the urban canyon, I realize something fundamental has shifted.
This attack wasn’t meant to eliminate us. It was meant to test us, to force us to reveal our capabilities and coordination. And in responding to it, my four men have just announced to the entire underworld that we’re no longer four separate entities orbiting around Raven Blackwood.
We’re infinitely more dangerous than the sum of our parts.
By the time we reach the Obsidian, the immediate threat is over.
Bodies in tactical gear litter the approaches to the building, and Dom stands guard at the main entrance like an avenging angel covered in other people’s blood.
Axel perches on a fire escape, cleaning his knives with the satisfied air of someone who’s just had an excellent workout.
“Casualties?” I ask as we regroup in the main office.
“None on our side,” Dom reports. “Sixteen confirmed hostile KIA, three wounded and in custody for questioning.”
“Equipment analysis suggests military contractors, not regular criminal muscle,” Marcus adds, already connecting to backup servers and rebuilding his intelligence network. “Professional grade weapons, tactical coordination, electronic warfare capabilities.”
“And the coordination was too precise,” Kieran says as he joins us, rifle case slung over his shoulder. “They knew our locations, our security protocols, our response patterns. Someone gave them detailed intelligence about all of us.”
Fuck me. We have a traitor somewhere in our organization, someone with access to information about all four men’s operations.
“So what’s our response?” Axel asks, his wild energy channeled into deadly focus. “Because I’m thinking we make an example that’ll have people thinking twice before they come for us again.”
“We do exactly that,” I agree, looking around at the four men who’ve just proven they’re willing to face coordinated military assault to keep me safe. “But first, we send a message. Not just to whoever ordered this attack, but to everyone watching to see how we handle being challenged.”
“What kind of message?” Dom asks.
I smile, something cold and sharp settling in my chest. “The kind that reminds this city why people used to fear the name Blackwood, and why they should fear it even more now that I’m not alone.”
Marcus pulls up a map of the city on his largest remaining screen, marking known enemy positions and probable safe houses. “Target priorities?”
“Everyone who participated in tonight’s attack,” I say without hesitation. “Everyone who funded it, planned it, or gave it intelligence support. We’re going to systematically dismantle every organization that thought we were weak enough to attack directly.”
“That’s a lot of enemies,” Kieran observes, but his voice carries anticipation rather than concern.
“Good thing we’ve got the right team for the job.
” I look at each of them in turn—Dom with his unshakeable loyalty, Axel with his chaotic brilliance, Kieran with his strategic mind, Marcus with his technological mastery.
“They wanted to test whether we’re strong enough to rule this city.
Time to give them an answer they’ll never forget. ”
The attack that was meant to destroy us has instead forged us into something unprecedented in this city’s criminal history. Not just a crime family built on blood ties or territorial agreements, but a true partnership between equals who’ve chosen to stand together.
And now that we’ve been tested by fire, it’s time to show our enemies exactly what they’ve created.
The war for this city’s underworld has officially begun. And we intend to win it.