Chapter 28
Then Tony’s face transforms, his composure cracking as he shouts at his tech, who’s already scrambling to restore the connection.
“You’re fucked,” I say into the silence.
Tony’s head snaps toward me in alarm. “Kill him!”
One guard raises his weapon, but I’m already moving. Not toward Tony, but toward his tech, who’s hammering commands into the unresponsive keyboard. For just a second, he’s exposed, leaning forward with both hands on the laptop, and I take the shot.
The bullet hits clean, center mass, and the tech drops without a sound. The laptop crashes to the floor, skidding across the dust-covered surface as the man’s body crumples beside it.
“Get that!” Tony screams at his nearest guard, who lunges for the device.
I keep moving, tracking the laptop’s trajectory while keeping Tony in my peripheral vision. Gunfire erupts again across the floor, but it’s different now. Uncoordinated without comms. What was once a tactical operation has devolved into overlapping skirmishes, each person fighting their own battle.
I ignore the chaos and focus on the laptop.
The bullet that hit the tech came from my final round. My magazine clicks empty mid-engagement as one of Tony’s men spots me and fires. I drop to a crouch behind a half-built wall, slide the empty magazine out, and slot in my backup.
Fifteen shots left.
“Secure that laptop!” Tony shouts to his remaining men, starting to panic. “Get it back online!”
Across the open floor, I spot Aaiden and Caleb pinned down by at least three shooters. No way to reach them, no way to signal my position. I’m on my own.
Which means I need to be smarter.
I circle away from the primary fight, keeping low and using the unfinished walls for cover. The open construction works in my favor now, the sightline breaks between units, partial walls, and vertical drops creating natural kill zones and approach options.
I track Tony’s movement along the perimeter, two guards flanking him as they retreat toward the service elevator.
Twenty feet ahead of their position, one of Tony’s men carries the laptop.
I’ve got one shot at this, and it needs to count.
I slip along the eastern wall, using the shifting light through open window frames to mask my movement. When Tony’s group pauses at an intersection of unfinished hallways, I take the opening. A quick dart between supports puts me behind a stack of drywall, close enough to hear their breathing.
“Where’s the backup team?” Tony demands. “They should have secured the exit by now.”
“They’re coming,” one guard assures him, scanning their surroundings. “Two minutes, max.”
I don’t have two minutes.
As they move again, I fall in behind them, slipping from shadow to shadow. The lead guard and Tony are already several paces ahead when my knife finds the gap between the rear guard’s ribs before he can react, blade angled upward, my free hand clamping over his mouth as he folds.
I ease him down and lift the weapon from his holster in the same motion.
Tony and his remaining guard don’t notice the exchange, too focused on reaching the service elevator.
I slip back into the shadows, tracking their movement from a parallel path rather than following directly.
I intercept their path again, this time using a half-finished utility closet as cover. From here, I have a clear line of sight to their approach while remaining hidden from the bulk of the fighting.
Tony paces ahead of his guard, checking the time with increasing frequency. “Did you reach the extraction team?”
“No signal, sir. Everything’s still jammed.”
Tony curses, running a hand through his thinning hair. “The moment we’re clear of the building, I want you on the emergency line. This changes nothing. The upload is still in progress. It just needs a signal to complete.”
I shift position, tracking the laptop as it passes within fifteen feet of my position. The guard carrying it keeps the device close to his body. No clean shot without risking damage to the equipment.
Behind us, the fighting intensifies, with more gunfire and shouts echoing through the unfinished space. Aaiden and Caleb must be pushing forward, trying to reach my position. But they don’t know that I’ve moved.
And there’s no way to tell them.
As Tony’s group approaches a junction where the hallway opens into a larger space, I make my move. A quick sprint brings me to a stack of metal studs in their path. I position myself behind it, knife in one hand, gun in the other, and wait.
The footsteps approach, Tony first, then his guard, bringing up the rear. They’re moving with urgency now, no longer concerned with stealth as they focus on reaching the exit.
I holster my gun and shift the knife to my dominant hand.
I let Tony pass, then step out behind, arm wrapping around the guard’s throat while my knife finds the junction of neck and shoulder.
He drops without a sound, the laptop still clutched tight to his chest. I catch it before it hits the ground, cradling the expensive equipment with more care than I showed its owner.
The screen remains dark. Whatever Micah did, it’s bricked the system.
For now.
Tony shouts, realizing what happened, and I duck behind a column as bullets chip away at its edge, dust and fragments flying.
“Jade!” Tony yells across the open space. “You have no idea what you’re doing! That system is still active! Without my code, you’re still fucked!”
I remain silent, using his voice to track his position as I work my way along the perimeter of the space, the laptop secure in my hand.
“You’re making a mistake,” Tony continues, desperation bleeding in. “The upload is paused, not stopped. Without the correct shutdown sequence, it will complete the upload automatically! You can’t kill me.”
Sweat breaks out under my arms. How long can Micah keep the building jammed? Service could come back any minute, and every second our comms are down, our people are in danger.
Ahead, Tony is backed into a corner where the floor opens into a partial drop, the outer wall not yet installed. His remaining guard positions himself between Tony and any who approach, weapon trained on the space between us.
The path narrows here, movement restricted by stacks of building materials and the fifteen-foot drop to my right to the floor below. No cover, no retreat, no way to circle around.
Just me, Tony, and one guard between us.
I stow the laptop behind a roll of insulation and creep forward, back pressed to the wall. The guard sweeps the space with his weapon, close enough that the creak of his tactical vest reaches me as he turns.
He almost passes me before he notices where my boots left clear impressions in the concrete powder, and his weapon swings toward me.
He doesn’t fire, though. Tony needs me alive, or at least talking. Instead, he lunges forward, using his body and the gun together to drive me back toward the open edge where the flooring gives way to the level below.
I drop and roll beneath the guard, coming up inside his reach with my knife already slashing across his forearm.
He howls, weapon clattering to the floor as blood sprays across the unfinished concrete.
But he’s trained and recovers fast, driving his knee toward my groin while his good hand reaches for my throat.
I twist away, using his momentum to throw him off balance. His foot hits a patch of loose wiring, and he stumbles, arms windmilling as he fights to stay upright. I press my advantage, driving my shoulder into his chest and sending him back another step, toward the open edge of the floor.
His eyes widen as he realizes where he is, one foot already hanging over empty space. For a suspended moment, we’re locked together, his body balanced between solid ground and nothing at all.
Then I shove hard, breaking his hold on my arm as he topples backward with a shout. His hand catches the edge of a support beam, his body dangling fifteen feet above the concrete below. His fingers scramble for purchase, face contorted with effort as he fights to pull himself up.
I stomp on his fingers without mercy, and his scream follows him down, cutting off with a wet thud that echoes through the unfinished space.
Tony stands alone now, backed against the outer wall where it meets the service corridor. No guards left, no escape route, nowhere to run. His eyes dart between me and the open floor behind him, calculating distances and weighing options.
“It doesn’t have to end this way,” he wheedles. “We can still work something out.”
I say nothing as I advance, knife held ready at my side.
“I have money,” Tony continues. “Information. Names. People who paid for Omegas, politicians who looked the other way. I can give you everything.”
Another step closer. The distance between us narrows.
“I know what the Rockfords are planning,” he says, a new edge entering his voice. “Their expansion into the eastern territories. The shipments coming in next month. I can make you valuable to them.”
“I’m already valuable to them,” I say.
“Not as valuable as you could be.” Tony’s hand inches toward his pocket. “I have the code right here. The sequence that stops the upload permanently. We could trade. My freedom for your reputation.”
I’m close enough now to see the sweat beading along his hairline, to catch the sour note of fear beneath his expensive cologne. As I take the last few steps forward, he has nowhere left to run.
“It’s over, Tony.” I tap the knife on my thigh. “You’re going to die now.”
The last of Tony’s control crumbles as he realizes there will be no negotiation, no deal, and no escape. His hand darts to his pocket, but I’m already moving, knife flashing forward to pin his sleeve to the concrete wall behind him.
“I don’t think so,” I murmur as he yanks at the handle of the knife, but he can’t pull it free.
With my free hand, I reach into his pocket and extract, not a code, but a small gun, meant for close range.
I hold it up between us, cocking my head to the side. “Now, now. How am I supposed to trust you when you go and lie like that?”
He lunges for it, the knife tearing through his sleeve as he breaks free, but I’m ready, stepping back as his momentum carries him forward, off balance. My foot hooks behind his ankle, sending him sprawling at my feet.
He looks up at me from the ground, hands up to shield his face. “Please, I’ll give you anything.”
I crouch beside him, knife resting at his throat. “Leo wants one of your fingers.”
His breath comes in short, panicked bursts. “The video—”
“Is already being handled.” I apply the slightest pressure, not enough to break skin but enough that he freezes. “We have the best in the business. He’ll take care of it.”
“You can’t know that,” Tony insists in a last desperate play. “Without the code—”
“I don’t need the code.” I lean closer. “I just need you gone.”
The knife slides across his throat in one clean motion, opening his carotid. Blood sprays in a crimson arc, already slowing as his heart struggles to maintain pressure. His hands clutch at the wound, but it’s already done.
I step back as his body convulses, watching dispassionately as the light fades from his eyes. There’s no triumph in this moment, no savage pleasure, just the sense of a task completed, and a debt paid in full.
Silence falls, the only sound coming from the distant echo of gunfire elsewhere in the building. My people are still fighting, unaware that the primary threat has been neutralized.
The laptop sits where I left it, screen still dark, system unresponsive. Without Tony’s code, we won’t know for certain whether the upload was stopped or only delayed.
But as Tony’s blood pools across the concrete, I realize it doesn’t matter.
Let it go live.
Let the world see.
I’m not the one who should be ashamed of what happened in that room.
Boots pound on the concrete as someone approaches at a run, but I don’t turn or reach for a weapon. I know that cadence, would recognize it anywhere.
“Jade!”
Aaiden bursts into the open space, weapon raised, scanning for threats before locking onto me. For one suspended moment, he takes in Tony’s body at my feet, blood on my hands, the knife still gripped in my fingers.
Then he’s moving, holstering his weapon as he closes the distance between us.
His hands frame my face. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m fine.”
His thumb brushes across my cheekbone, coming away smeared with blood that isn’t mine. “The laptop?”
“Secure.” I gesture to where it sits. “Tony’s dead. The upload—“
“Trust Micah to handle it,” Aaiden says, cutting me off. “He won’t have stopped working on it just because he put up a jammer. By now, he’s either stopped it or contained the damage.”
Relief washes through me, though I’m careful not to let it show. “Good.”
Aaiden’s hands slide from my face to my shoulders, then lower to my waist, as if he needs to reassure himself that I’m here and still intact.
“When the comms went dead...” He swallows hard. “I thought—”
I cover one of his hands with mine. “Thank you for trusting that I could finish this, Aaiden.”
Behind us, more footsteps approach, Caleb and Damien appearing at the corridor junction, weapons at the ready until they spot Tony’s body. Their faces register surprise, then approval as they take in the scene.
“Problem solved?” Caleb asks, already knowing the answer.
“Problem solved,” I confirm.
Caleb pulls a knife from his belt. “Just need to collect a little souvenir for my cousin-in-law, then, and we can have the clean-up team do the rest.”
Aaiden steps forward, and his thumb finds my mouth, wiping away blood. Then his hand slides to the back of my neck, and he kisses me, slow and certain, as if Tony’s body isn’t cooling six feet away, and we have all the time in the world.
“I love you,” he says against my lips. “My beautiful, fierce mate.”
“I love you, too.” I pull back just enough to look at him. “Now, take me home. I’m done here.”
Aaiden doesn’t argue. His hand tightens at the back of my neck for a brief second, then he steps back just enough to guide me toward the corridor.
Behind us, Tony’s blood continues to spread across the unfinished concrete, already dulling as it seeps into the dust.
I don’t look back. From now on, I’m only looking forward.