Chapter 27
Ikeep my breathing steady despite the burn building in my thighs after ascending eight flights.
Behind me, the service stairwell echoes with the careful footsteps of our people as we ascend the unfinished Riverside Heights building, our boots finding purchase on concrete steps still rough with form marks.
Aaiden moves ahead of me, his back tense under his bulletproof vest.
Caleb says through our comms. “First team has breached. North stairwell secure to twelve.”
“Copy that,” Aaiden responds. “Second team approaching floor ten now.”
The construction site sits quietly on the weekend, with tools set down mid-task and coffee cups left on sawhorses in the rush to get out of there before the weekend started. Which means no sound cover. Just open concrete and the wind off the river.
“Remember,” Aaiden says, leaning in so his breath warms my ear, “you stay behind me when we hit fourteen.”
I give him a sideways glare. “That wasn’t the deal.”
“The deal was second wave, not front line.”
“And I’m keeping that deal,” I say, adjusting the gun in my grip. “But I refuse to hide behind you.”
Somewhere above us, gunfire cracks through the open concrete and echoes back doubled, tripled, the building turning every shot into a war.
By the time we reach the tenth floor, it’s gone quiet again, and Damien is waiting on the landing, rifle in hand. Three more of Aaiden’s security team flank him, weapons at the ready.
“The stairwell’s compromised above twelve,” Damien reports. “Tony’s people were waiting. Caleb’s team is holding, but we’re taking the service lift the rest of the way.”
“Casualties?” Aaiden demands.
“Two of ours were wounded, nothing critical. Four of theirs down.”
My pulse picks up as we follow Damien across the raw concrete floor.
The building stands half-finished, with walls missing, wiring exposed, and plastic sheeting flapping in the breeze that cuts through empty window frames.
Our boots crunch over construction debris as we weave through stacks of drywall and bundles of metal studs.
“There,” Damien points to a service lift at the far end, little more than an open platform with a safety cage. “It only fits four at a time.”
Aaiden’s hand settles on the small of my back. “Jade and I will take the second run.”
I open my mouth to protest, but a sudden burst of gunfire sounds from above, and Aaiden shoves me behind a stack of pipes as more shots echo down the stairwell.
“Change of plans,” he says into his comm. “Caleb, status.”
The reply crackles through the static. “They’ve got the fourteenth floor more secured than we thought. Bottlenecked at the north stairwell.”
Damien checks his rifle. “We’ll take the service lift up to thirteen and flank them from the south.”
“No,” Aaiden says. “Get your team on that lift now and reinforce Caleb at twelve. Jade and I will take the south approach.”
Damien hesitates for only a second before nodding. “Copy that.”
As his team moves forward, Aaiden turns to me. “New plan. You and I are taking the south stairwell. It’s a maintenance access, so it will be less guarded, but it’s more exposed.”
My heart hammers, but my hands remain steady. “Lead the way.”
Aaiden guides me past pallets of cement bags to a narrow doorway marked Maintenance Only. The door hangs half-open, revealing a tight concrete stairwell only wide enough for one person.
Aaiden draws his gun from beneath his vest. “I’ll go first.”
“Shocking,” I mutter as I fall into line behind him to guard our backs.
The stench of stale cigarettes fills the stairwell from the site workers using it for smoke breaks. Our footsteps echo as we climb, the sounds of gunfire fading behind us.
Between floors twelve and thirteen, Aaiden stops and raises his hand.
I freeze as I strain to catch what drew his attention.
Above us, two men argue in hushed tones.
Aaiden gestures for me to stay put as he continues upward, each step carefully placed to minimize noise. I ignore his instructions and follow right behind him, drawing my knife with my free hand.
The voices grow clearer. “...all these people coming from.”
“Fuck if I know. We’re not getting paid enough for this bullshit.”
“This place is going to do—”
The sentence cuts off with a wet gurgle as Aaiden rounds the corner and drives his knife into the man’s throat. The other guard reaches for his weapon, but I’m already moving past Aaiden, driving my blade up beneath the man’s ribs.
Aaiden catches the body before it hits the ground, lowering it silently. He shoots me a hard stare, no words needed. He isn’t happy I disobeyed, but he can’t argue with the result.
We continue upward, the air thinning and cooling with each flight. Through the concrete above us, gunfire sounds in tight, controlled bursts.
“Damien’s team has freed us up on twelve,” Caleb announces through the comms. “Continuing up.”
We emerge onto the fourteenth floor, a blast of river wind cutting through the open frames. Skeletal walls, concrete floors, plastic sheeting snapping from the beams.
“Caleb,” Aaiden whispers into his comm. “South stairwell secure to fourteen. What’s your position?”
“Northeast corner of fourteen,” comes the reply. “Be advised, center units are heavily fortified. They’ve got explosive charges set.”
Aaiden’s jaw tightens. “Copy that. We’ll move toward your location.”
We slip along the southern perimeter, staying close to the outer wall. To our right, the floor opens to half-framed units.
“This way,” Aaiden murmurs, guiding me toward a narrow hallway that runs behind the main living spaces. “We can circle around to the east side.”
The hallway offers better cover, with actual drywall installed on one side, though the other remains open studs. We move quickly, boots silent on the plastic-covered flooring.
A flicker of movement through the hanging plastic draws my eye. “Aaiden—”
The scream of power tools starting up drowns me out, echoing up through the floor from every direction.
“Retreat!” Aaiden shouts over the mechanical roar.
Before we can backtrack, figures rush toward us from multiple directions, their silhouettes visible through the hanging plastic. Aaiden shoves me behind him as the first shots punch through the plastic.
“Fall back!” he orders, returning fire as we retreat toward the only solid wall.
But there’s nowhere safe to go.
A bullet hits a concrete support pillar near my head, and shards fly off it. The sting barely registers as I return fire.
Then Caleb and Damien’s teams arrive, and we shift from retreat to offense through the chaos, gunshots punctuating the mechanical scream of power tools.
Caleb’s team converges from the north, giving us the opening we need to advance.
Blood trickles down my temple, but I keep moving, knife in one hand, gun in the other.
Aaiden stays half a step ahead, his massive frame blocking shots that come too close to me despite my repeated attempts to move beside him instead of behind.
“There,” Aaiden shouts over the noise, pointing.
Through the skeletal framing, I spot Tony near a set of floor-to-ceiling windows, the city sprawling behind him. Unlike his men, he wears an expensive suit, the buttons straining over his gut. Two armed guards flank him while a third hunches over equipment set up on a makeshift table.
Aaiden gestures to Caleb’s team, signaling them to circle left while we approach from the right. I follow Aaiden as we weave through stacked materials, using bundles of metal studs and pallets of tiles for cover.
“I can see you, Omega,” Tony yells over the chaos. “Did you think I wouldn’t prepare for this?”
As my fingers tighten around my knife, Aaiden places a hand on my shoulder in a silent warning not to respond and give our exact position away.
We edge closer, moving from one stack of materials to another, but as we near, the space opens up, with less construction debris and more open area.
There’s no way to approach without being seen.
“I’ve been watching you hunt my associates,” Tony continues. “Impressive for someone I thought was just a stripper.”
My stomach clenches, but I keep moving, refusing to let him bait me.
“Aaiden,” Caleb says through our comms, “we’ve got three teams in position. On your signal.”
Aaiden raises his hand, fingers extended in a countdown.
Three.
Two.
One.
Gunfire erupts from three directions as our teams converge on Tony’s position. His guards return fire, taking cover behind concrete columns.
Tony himself stands behind his guards, watching from a distance as bullets strike the wall beside him.
“Stop!” he calls out. “Or the video goes live right now!”
Aaiden signals a cease-fire, and my ears ring at the sudden silence.
“That’s better,” Tony says, straightening his tie. “Now, why don’t you come out where I can see you, Jade? No need to hide behind your Alpha.”
I step out from behind the pallet, ignoring Aaiden’s attempt to hold me back. “I’m not hiding.”
Tony’s smile widens. “There he is. My favorite little performer.” He beckons me closer. “Come on, come on. I won’t bite.”
“Jade,” Aaiden warns, but I’m already moving forward, keeping my gun trained on Tony.
I stop ten feet away. From here, I have a clearer view of the equipment on the table. He has a laptop connected to what looks like a cellular transmitter, with cables running to a portable power source.
“Such hostility,” Tony says, clicking his tongue. “After all we’ve shared.”
“We haven’t shared anything,” I reply, acid rising in my throat.
“No? I have hours of footage that suggests otherwise.” He nods to the man at the equipment. “Should we show your Alpha what you look like when you’re really enjoying yourself?”
Aaiden moves up beside me. “You’re surrounded, Tony. Whatever game you’re playing ends now.”
“Does it?” Tony laughs, the sound sharp in the cavernous space. “Timothy, show them.”
The man at the table turns the laptop toward us. On screen, a progress bar slowly fills beneath text that reads: Upload in progress: 68%.