Chapter 11
eleven
The night air tastes like spilled beer and diesel as I stand under the awning of McDonough’s, the neon sign buzzing a lazy green above the door.
My palms are still damp from the beer I keep twisting between my fingers like a lifeline.
The bar smells of fried potatoes and old wood and something sweet that makes my stomach flip.
Inside, Liam has already cornered off the back room away from the nightly patrons.
Mark is hunched over his laptop at the bar like a kid hiding his homework, dragging his fingers across the keys as if every line of code can unmake what’s been done.
He arrived an hour ago, tech in tow, a grim look on his face.
Matthias knows what he did, yet here he is, sitting with us now, forgiven.
I’m not the only traitor, as Matthias puts it.
I’m just the only one he doesn’t have a use for.
Mark’s technological prowess is something Matthias needs.
He doesn’t need me now that Elias is dead and he can’t lord me over him any longer.
Sighing, I step back into the bar and make my way toward the booth we have set aside for the meeting. I take a seat across from Liam, tapping my nails against the glass anxiously.
I despite waiting. My phone sits on the table silently. Every time the door to the back opens, I flinch. None of the people who come through are Matthias, just a few of Liam’s men.
“It will be fine,” Liam tells me, his eyes soft. “He’ll show up. Mark did and I doubt he would have sent him here if he wasn’t going to also come.”
I give a disgruntled grunt. He also could have sent Mark as a way to give me hope and then piss me off when he chooses to not show. If only this plan didn’t hinge on his cooperation.
The bell over the door jangles, and I will myself not to look.
Not that it matters, because that is the exact thing I end up doing.
He strides in with an air of confidence that doesn’t surprise me.
This may be Kavanaugh territory, but Matthias knows his influence and power in the city.
The hushed voices around me quiet until all I see and hear is the subtle shift of his feet on the hardwood floor and the hush of his breath as he whispers to Vas and Nikolai who are standing on his right side.
My throat tightens as the three of them fan out like wolves, checking the room with slow, clinical movements. He is just as terrifying and handsome as I remember. And just as stubbornly infuriating as well.
Jackass.
His glacier eyes spot me, his stoic face hard as granite as he glides toward the table like someone who is used to people giving him what he intends to take.
“Matthias.” I’m proud when my voice doesn’t crack. I stand to greet him, trying to ease the tension in the air to make it feel less like a hostage negotiation and more of a conversation between adults.
He nods once, barely acknowledging me before turning to Liam.
“Kavanaugh,” he greets him before he takes a seat at the table on Mark’s left side without waiting to be invited.
Of course he doesn’t wait. The king of Seattle doesn’t wait for anyone.
Vas takes the far end beside him, shooting me a wink as he sits, while Nikolai posts at the corner of the room.
His gaze sweeps the room, eyeing the door that separates us from the patrons in the main bar room.
Matthias doesn’t so much as glance at me. My jaw ticks. Great start.
Liam clears his throat. “Thanks for coming.”
Matthias relaxes in his chair. “You said it was important.” His eyes move to the folder on the table, my folder with my research and my intel, before skipping right over me like I’m some leftover crumb the Grinch left behind after stealing Christmas.
Not today.
“We appreciate you meeting on neutral ground,” Liam adds, the diplomatic tone he’s perfected smoothing the edges.
“It’s not neutral,” Matthias points out, gaze narrowing. “It’s your bar.”
“Still standing, isn’t it?” Liam deadpans.
Matthias doesn’t smile. He flicks a glance at Mark, who is sitting awkwardly between the pair holding out a flash drive like it’s a peace offering.
“You’re lucky you’re still breathing.” Matthias takes the drive and pockets it.
Mark mutters, “Love you too, big guy,” but the humor is thin and doesn’t reach his eyes.
“And you,” Matthias says, turning his head toward me at last. “You hung up on me.”
His tone is soft. Dangerous. The kind of soft that hides razors.
I lift my chin. “I can do it again if you want a matching set.”
Vas chokes on a genuine laugh, unable to repress it in time. Matthias shoots him a killing look that would have turned lesser men to ash on the spot.
I don’t look away. If I blink, even once, he’ll take that as an opening to bulldoze right through this entire meeting. I’m not the meek woman he forced to marry him. That woman is gone and has been since the accident.
Liam clears his throat again. “Shall me move to business?”
Matthias leans back. “By all means. Tell me what your daughter believes she has that is worth my time.”
My skin prickles. Your daughter. Not Ava. Not my wife. Not even Ward. He’s done the one thing he knew would get under my skin. Referred to me as Liam’s property instead of giving me the independence he knows I’ve always craved.
To his credit, Liam’s jaw tenses at the phrasing, but before he can speak, I cut in.
“Actually, this is my meeting, so I will be the one telling you what is so important,” I say, folding my hands on the table. I don’t raise my voice. There is no need to. The command in my voice threads through it. “You are here because of me. Not him.”
His eyes slide to mine, boredom painted across them. “Am I?
“You’re here,” I say simply.
For a split second, something flickers behind his expression. But he smothers it as fast as it appears. Finally, he huffs and says, “Fine. Speak.”
Oh, he’s in a mood. A king granting audience. Lovely.
I pull one of the folders toward me and flip it open.
“Christian has two containers moving on Wednesday. Ammunition and modified weapons. Courtesy of whoever was backing Elias and is now puppeteering Christian. Somehow, Archer is also involved in all this, I just can’t figure out what he is getting out of it. ”
His jaw tightens at the agent’s name. Good.
“Mark hacked the port camera,” I continue, gesturing toward Mark’s laptop. “We traced the truck manifests. Christian’s been routing his shipments through warehouses not flagged under Ward accounts. Which means his supplier has money and infrastructure independent of anything the DEA froze.”
“You’re assuming a lot,” Matthias replies, uninterested. “You don’t know who his supplier is. Or why Christian trusts them.”
“I know enough to know they are not small-time,” I counter. “And I know Elias didn’t have the reach to pull this off alone. Someone with muscled stepped in long before either of us realized it.”
His gaze hardens like a door slamming shut. “How do I know you are telling the truth and not backing me and my men into a corner?”
“You think everyone is conspiring around you.” I scowl at him.
“You think no one ever is,” he shoots back. “And that is why you never see betrayal until it is choking you.”
Vas subtly drags a hand down his mouth and shakes his head.
Matthias ignores him.
Liam interjects. “We want to coordinate efforts. Hit the convoy, grab the driver alive, squeeze intel out of him, and commandeer the weapons. But we need numbers. Firepower. Manpower. Timing.”
“And I assume this is where I’m expected to step in.” Matthias rests his elbows on the table, fingers steepled. “Yet you have not told me why I should trust anything she says.”
Liam stiffens at the implications. “Ava hasn’t lied—”
“She lied the moment she stepped into my home.” Matthias’s voice is sharp, ice-crusted steel. “She lied by omission. She lied by cooperating with that fucking FBI agent.”
I slam my hand down on the table so heard the beer glasses jump.
“Enough.”
Vas goes still. Nikolai’s hand drops to his jacket. Would he honestly shoot me?
Matthias lifts a single brow, expression daring me to try him. My heart races but I force myself not to look away.
“You don’t get to sit there acting like I betrayed you,” I whisper, leaning forward. “You think I owe you undying loyalty when you never gave me anything but sex.”
Liam coughs uncomfortably beside me and the twins faces darken. Matthias’s eyes flash with something feral, but I keep going.
“You never even contemplated that I didn’t give Archer your brother’s name,” I hiss. “You assumed based off unsupported evidence. He backed me and Mark into a corner we couldn’t get out of.”
“You could have come to me,” he points out darkly.
I scoff. “I didn’t know you. I still don’t. How the hell was I supposed to know that you wouldn’t just kill me? You might pretend like I am your wife and that I should trust you, but you only married me for my connection to Liam. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
The words land like blows and for a moment the ice-cold mafia boss facade slips. And then it’s gone like it never existed. Go figure.
“You think I need Liam that much, little red?”
A smirk plays at the edge of my lips. “You wouldn’t have walked into McDonough’s with only two guards unless you were desperate.”
Nikolai grunts, obviously offended while Vas lets out a deep chuckle.
Matthias’s nostrils flare. “You are out of your depth here.”
“And you don’t know the half of what Christian is planning,” I shoot back. “I listened to every back ass monologue while he tortured me with cattle prods, needles, knives, and near drowning. So maybe get off your high horse before you fall and break something fragile. Like your ego.”
Liam coughs to hide a laugh.
Matthias’s stare burns into me, a slow, evaluating sweep. I’ve seen that look before. He’s trying to decide whether to strangle me or kiss me.
I’ll settle for neither. For moment, at least.
“Show me,” he finally says.
I blink. “Show you…what?”
“Everything you have,” he clarifies. “The manifests. The camera footage. The supply routing. If I’m going to waste my time on this, I want proof.”
He isn’t saying he trusts me. Doesn’t acknowledge my arguments. But at least he hasn’t dismissed me.
Which is progress, in Matthias-speak.
Mark drags his laptop in front of Matthias, typing rapidly. “Already pulled up, big guy.”
Matthias sends him a glacier stare. “Do not call me big guy.”
“Sure thing, champ.”
Vas outright laughs this time. The two of them are messing with him and I can’t say it doesn’t give me some joy. Mark points at the timestamps on the screen.
“Here. Warehouse footage from last Tuesday. This truck wasn’t registered under Ward Holdings or Ward Security. It’s under someone named Boris Ulinov.”
Matthias’s eyes narrow. “That’s impossible. Ulinov died six years ago.”
“Yeah,” Mark pipes in. “But someone’s been renewing his old shell companies using matching handwriting on the forms. Someone local.”
“Someone with access to old Russian networks,” Liam adds.
“Somone with history,” I say, my heartbeat picking up as I flip to the next page of the printouts I brought. “And look what Christian mentioned before he beat the hell out of me.”
That gets Matthias’s full attention. His jaw twitches.
I read from my notes. “He kept calling him ‘our friend’. Said ‘our friend’ needed the port. ‘Our friend’ promised him power. And ‘our friend’ didn’t like that you beat him to the contract.”
Matthias sinks back, tension vibrating off him.
“I’m not sure who it was,” I say quietly. “But Christian was parroting. Being fed lines. Being directed.”
Vas exhales. “We need to check who Elias was talking to leading up to his death.”
Matthias nods. “I’ll have Mark run the phone logs.” He narrows his eyes at my friend. “Quietly.”
We’re collaborating. Almost. If you squint hard enough.
“So,” I say, clearing my throat. “Are you in? Or should I call Christian and tell him you’re too scared to come out and play?”
The twins howl with laughter. Matthias levels me with a look so lethal I swear the temperature drops.
“You have no idea how close you come to death when you talk like that.”
“I’m still standing,” I point out. “So maybe you’re not as dangerous as you think.”
A slow smile curves his mouth. Not kind. Not warn. But undeniably entertained.
“There she is,” he murmurs.
My pulse skitters.
I hate him. I hate how I react to him so easily. Even worse, I hate how he knows I react to him.
Liam cuts in before the air combusts. “Wednesday night. We hit the convoy. Your men flank the east. Mine handle the west. Ava will be point for intel.”
Matthias shakes his head. “She won’t be involved.”
“Yes,” I say at the same time Liam does. “I will.”
“You are not stepping foot near that convoy,” he growls.
“Try to stop me,” I retort hotly.
“Ava,” he warns.
“Matthias,” I mimic, dripping sarcasm.
His eyes blaze. “I don’t take orders from you.”
“Funny,” I say sweetly. “because you’re in my operation.”
That shut the entire table up. Everyone is suspiciously quiet.
Matthias stares at me, long and hard, jaw working. I swear a muscle jumps in his cheek.
Finally, he exhales through his nose, slow and furious, like a parent dealing with a toddler.
“Fine,” he mutters. “But if you disobey one order—one—I drag you home myself.”
“Home,” I echo, pulse. “This isn’t your home. And I’m not yours. You proved that when you left me to rot in the stables with Christian.”
His eyes darken. Dangerous. Possessive. Infuriated.
“The marriage certificate you signed says differently.”
Oh, hell no.
I lean forward until there is barely a breath between us. “Touch me without consent during this op, Matthias, and I will put a bullet so far up you—”
Liam slams a hand on the table. “Alright! Enough. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”
Vas is laughing so hard he is wheezing. Even Nikolai, who has been doing an impressive act as a statue, shifts uncomfortably, ears red.
Matthias sits back, expression composed but his gray eyes burning.
“Alright,” he acquiesces. “We’re in.”
“My plan,” I remind him.
“My resources,” he counters.
“Fine,” I snap.
“Fine,” he snaps back.
Liams stands, muttering something about needing a whiskey.
Mark whispers to me, “I should start digging your grave now or later?”
I ignore him. Matthias is still staring at me like he is memorizing the shape of my defiance. Like he is furious. Like this…war between us is the first time he is seeing who I truly am, and it is making him feel alive.
And God help me…
I think I love it.