Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
ARCHER
T he next few days were a settling-in period for him and Lanie. She still argued with him, but then he suspected she’d never be a quiet, complacent submissive, and he didn’t want her to be. She mostly followed his rules, enjoying his unrestricted power to touch her.
As Archer stood in the center of the dimly lit war room, he kept thinking of her. He had to remind himself to focus. The room was almost suffocating with the quiet intensity that seemed to hang in the air.
The blueprints of the estate lay spread across the table, marked with precise notations, entry points, and security weaknesses. Around him, the Cerberus team moved with lethal efficiency—checking weapons, finalizing logistics, and going over contingencies. The mission was clear: infiltrate as buyers, neutralize the threats, extract the captives, and put an end to Vinnie Molina once and for all.
Failure was not an option.
"Reyna, you’re lead on comms. Keep all exits covered. Seth, get me eyes on their internal security grid. I want to know how many bodies we’re up against before we step foot inside," Archer ordered, his voice sharp and controlled.
"Already working on it," Seth muttered, typing furiously at his laptop. "They’ve got a tight system, but I can crack it. Give me five."
Archer nodded, scanning the room until his gaze landed on King, who stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
"You got a bad feeling about this, or is that just your usual scowl?" Archer asked.
King exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "We’ve done a dozen of these ops, but something about this one feels off. Molina’s been quiet—too quiet—the past few days.”
Coop nodded. “Yeah, it’s like he’s waiting for us."
"Let him wait," Archer growled. "We’ll make sure he doesn’t walk away from this one."
Reyna looked up from her tablet, her expression grim. "We still haven’t confirmed who his inside man is. Someone at Club Southside fed him info on Lanie. If we don’t plug that leak, we’re walking into a setup."
Archer clenched his jaw. "Then we adjust. We assume they know we’re coming and hit them harder."
The team murmured agreement. He’d dealt with men like Molina before—slippery bastards who thrived on control and manipulation. And if Molina had half a brain, he’d already expected an attack.
Which meant Archer had to stay ahead. But they had one wild card on this op—Lanie.
His gut twisted. He and Lanie had argued about her involvement just this morning. The last thing he needed was her testing his patience or his orders again. She’d agreed—grudgingly—to stay out of the op and let Cerberus handle it.
Yet something about the way she’d said it hadn’t set right with him.
Archer pulled out his phone, ready to check on her, when Seth’s voice cut through the tension.
"Got it!" Seth’s fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up security feeds from the estate. Grainy images filled the monitors, showing men stationed at key entrances, a dozen or so guards patrolling the perimeter, and inside—a locked basement filled with women.
"Holy shit," Reyna muttered, staring at the screen.
Archer’s blood went ice cold.
"How many?" he asked, his voice tight.
"At least ten, maybe more," Seth confirmed.
Archer exhaled, forcing himself to stay focused. "We move in as planned. No mistakes. No unnecessary risks."
His phone buzzed. He glanced down. And everything stopped.
A text message appeared on his phone:
You won’t let me do this my way, so I’m doing it on my own. I need to finish this, Archer.
Archer went still, his fingers curling around the phone as a slow, burning rage built in his chest.
"Where the fuck is Lanie?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm.
Silence. Then Reyna’s tablet beeped, her eyes widening as she scanned the screen.
"Two of our guys are down. She’s gone," Reyna confirmed. "Slipped away twenty minutes ago and caught a cab. It was headed toward...”
"The estate," Archer finished, his voice like steel. His jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached. "That stubborn, reckless little...”
"She’s going to him," King realized, his tone dark. "She’s handing herself over."
Archer shoved his chair back, already moving. "No. She’s pretending to hand herself over. And when I get my hands on her, she’s going to wish she hadn’t."
"She could be buying us time," Logan pointed out.
Archer’s laugh was sharp, humorless. "Or she could be walking straight into a fucking execution." He stormed toward the weapons locker, grabbing an extra gun, shoving it into his holster. "We adjust. We move now."
"Archer, wait!" Reyna stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "Think for a second. If she’s in there, we need to be smart about this."
Archer’s hands flexed at his sides, barely containing his fury. "We stick to the plan. But when we go in, Lanie is mine to handle."
He didn’t give a damn if she thought she was protecting him, if she thought she was finally putting an end to Molina’s hold on her—she belonged to him now. And that meant no one got to touch her. Not Molina. Not his men.
And if she got hurt in the process?
Archer swore he’d burn the whole fucking world down.
LANIE
Lanie took a slow breath, forcing her heartbeat to settle as she stepped out of the cab and walked toward the estate gates. Two guards stood at the entrance, watching her with cold, assessing eyes. She forced herself to keep walking, her posture relaxed, her chin lifted—not defiant, but not afraid. Vinnie would sense it if she was lying.
One guard pulled a radio from his belt. "She’s here."
A crackling response she couldn’t hear. Then, a moment later, the iron gates creaked open. Lanie stepped inside. She was on her own now… at least until Archer and Cerberus got here.
Inside the mansion, smoke and laughter hung in the air. The scent of expensive cigars, cologne, and something darker—something vile—clung to the walls. Lanie kept her hands at her sides, her nails digging into her palms to keep them from trembling as she was led into a lavish sitting room.
And then—there he was. Vinnie sat at the head of a leather couch, a glass of whiskey in one hand, his dark eyes sharp as he took her in.
"Lanie," he drawled, his lips curling upward. "You’re a sight for sore eyes."
She forced a nervous swallow, letting her gaze drop just slightly—submissive, but not too much.
"I… I didn’t know where else to go," she whispered.
Vinnie studied her for a long moment, then leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.
"I’ll admit, sweetheart," he said. "I didn’t think I’d see you again. Thought you were too good for this life."
She let out a shaky breath. "I tried to be. But… it’s not who I am."
Vinnie’s eyes gleamed. "No, baby. It’s not."
She had him. He believed her. He wanted to believe her, but then he laughed—low and amused.
Lanie’s blood ran cold.
"Sweetheart," Vinnie said, setting his glass down and standing, his smile widening. "You wouldn’t be stupid enough to lie to me, would you?"
The thing that had been sitting in her belly clawed at her.
He knew. He knew something.
Lanie forced herself to stay calm. But inside? Inside, she knew she was running out of time and prayed that Archer would get here in time. If he wasn’t already coming for her, he would be soon.
ARCHER
Archer was livid. No, he was past livid. He was the kind of livid that came from rage that burned cold, controlled, dangerous.
Lanie had defied him. Again.
His grip on the steering wheel was a vise as he drove through the dark back roads leading to the estate. The information Reyna had gathered flashed in his mind—Molina was running an auction tonight, selling off the women his men had kidnapped. Lanie was walking straight into hell, thinking she could play her part without getting burned.
She thought she was in control. She didn’t have a clue.
The estate loomed ahead, massive and sprawling, its opulence masking the rot underneath. Archer slowed his vehicle to a crawl, adjusting the black suit jacket he wore. His role tonight was simple—he wasn’t coming in as Cerberus. He was coming in as a buyer.
A man with no morals. A man interested in the merchandise.
The thought turned his stomach, but the disguise would get him inside without a fight. And once he was in? All bets were off.
King’s voice sputtered through his earpiece. “You’re five minutes out from the auction room. Lanie’s already inside. Molina’s keeping her close.”
Archer’s jaw clenched. Of course he was.
“ Logan and I have entry points secured,” Reyna added. “Guards are posted at all the exits. We count at least twenty hostiles.”
Twenty was a problem. Not for Cerberus, but for Lanie. A full-scale takedown would take careful precision. If she got caught in the crossfire…
No. Archer cut the thought off before it could take root. He would not let that happen.
That single thought pounded through his skull as he pulled into the estate’s driveway. Two guards approached his car, rifles slung over their shoulders. Archer rolled down his window, his expression void of emotion.
“I’m expected,” he said flatly.
One guard scanned his ID, stolen from a bidder whose description fit Archer closely enough that Seth had made it work. The buyer, whose identity he’d borrowed, would never make it to the auction.
The other guard gave him a slow once-over. “Go ahead,” he said, stepping back.
Archer drove through, parking near the other luxury vehicles lining the estate’s front entrance. He stepped out, smoothing a hand over his jacket, and adjusted the black mask covering the lower half of his face.
Then he walked inside.
The moment he stepped into the main hall, the energy shifted. The space was grand, filled with men in suits, laughter that didn’t reach their eyes, and too many women looking like they were trying to disappear.
His gaze swept the room, searching, hunting…
And then he saw her. Lanie stood at Molina’s side, her back straight, her shoulders squared. To anyone else, she would look as if she was playing her part to perfection. But he saw it—the way her fingers curled just slightly at her sides, the flicker of unease she was barely keeping in check.
His gut clenched. She was beautiful—too damn beautiful in that sleek dress, her hair framing her delicate features like something out of a dream.
But the moment he laid eyes on her, a different kind of possession took hold. She was his.
And Molina’s fingers—casually resting against her hip—needed to be broken.
Archer moved through the crowd, his pulse a steady drum, each step calculated, precise. His expression remained neutral, though inside, a storm raged.
The auctioneer’s voice rang out over the murmuring bidders. “Gentlemen, please take your seats. We have a special collection this evening, and our first presentation is...”
Archer ignored him. He kept his eyes locked on Lanie. And that was when she moved. She reached into Molina’s pocket, her fingers quick and delicate, sliding out his phone in a move so smooth no one else noticed.
She turned her body just enough to obscure her next movement, tapping the screen rapidly.
She was sending the data to Cerberus. Smart girl. Too smart. Because the moment she finished, the phone buzzed in her hand, and Molin turned.
His dark eyes narrowed, his lips curling. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Lanie’s breath hitched, but she didn’t falter. “I—I just wanted to check...”
Molina’s grip on her wrist tightened. “Lying little bitch,” he hissed.
Archer was already moving.
Molina was about to die. But before he could reach them, the first gunshot rang out.
The room erupted into chaos—shouts, screams. The sound of bodies moving, scrambling.
Cerberus had entered. Reyna’s voice buzzed through the earpiece. “We’re in. Extraction is go.”
Archer shoved through the chaos, gun already drawn, ignoring the scrambling bidders trying to flee. The only target that mattered was Lanie. But Molina was dragging her backward towards an exit.
Not fucking happening.
Archer surged forward, but a guard stepped into his path, gun raised. Archer didn’t hesitate. One shot—center mass. The man crumpled.
Another thug lunged. Archer twisted, slamming an elbow into his throat before snapping his wrist, making the gun drop. By the time he turned again, Molina was nearly to the exit, dragging Lanie along. She was fighting. Kicking. Scratching.
Good girl.
Archer’s pulse roared in his ears as he sprinted forward, the hallway narrowing, the walls pressing in. Molina turned, wild eyes locking on him.
“She’s mine,” he sneered. “You think I’ll let you take her?”
Archer didn’t bother responding. Didn’t hesitate. He raised his gun, but before he could take the shot, Molina yanked Lanie in front of him like a human shield.
Her gasp was sharp, her hands clawing at his arm.
Archer froze.
Molina grinned, stepping backward toward a black door at the end of the hall. “See you soon, buddy .”
Then he was gone.
The door slammed shut. Archer lunged after them, his body brimming with lethal intent. His heartbeat was deafening, his blood running hot, his mind a singular, razor-sharp focus.
Lanie was his. And no one—no one—took what was his.
Molina thought he could escape. He thought he could keep her. Archer was about to show him exactly how wrong he was.
Archer’s pulse roared in his ears as he slammed through the door after Molina. His gun was up, his vision a sharp, deadly tunnel focused on the bastard dragging Lanie toward an exit at the far end of the room.
She was fighting. Hard.
But Molina was bigger, stronger. He had her arm twisted behind her back, forcing her to stumble as he yanked her toward the waiting SUV idling just outside.
They’d tracked Molina, his driver, and Lanie to the warehouse district. They were inside as Archer and his team made a silent entrance. Inside, the room was dark, industrial, the scent of gasoline and metal thick in the air. A single hanging bulb flickered overhead, casting long, shifting shadows across the concrete floor.
Archer stalked forward, every muscle coiled, his gun aimed. “Let her go, Molina.”
He didn’t stop. Didn’t even look back. “You don’t give orders here, Vaughn.” His voice was smug, gloating. “You think you’re in control? You don’t know shit.”
Archer’s finger tightened on the trigger. “You take one more step, and I put a bullet through your skull.”
Molina laughed, jerking Lanie tighter against him, using her as a human shield. “You won’t risk hitting her.”
Archer didn’t so much as blink. “You think I won’t kill you?” His voice was icy. Deadly. “You’re already a corpse. I’m just deciding where to put the bullet.”
Molina sneered, confidence oozing from every inch of his pathetic excuse for a body. “You should thank me. You wouldn’t even know what to do with her. A girl like Lanie? She needs...”
He never got the chance to finish.
Because Lanie made her move. She fucking fought. She slammed her head back into Molina’s nose, made a sharp rotation with her body, and then brought her knee up into his groin.
Molina choked out a guttural sound, his entire body buckling, his grip on her loosening.
But Lanie wasn’t done. She twisted out of his grasp and turned, fury burning in her eyes as she raked her nails down his face, leaving long, bloody scratches in her wake.
Molina howled. Archer took the shot. The gunshot echoed, sharp and final. A single bullet, right between his beady little eyes. He never saw it coming. Archer regretted he hadn’t known he was going to die, hadn’t known Archer was the one to pull the trigger.
Molina’s body crumpled, hitting the concrete floor with a sickening thud . The light in his eyes snuffed out instantly, a thin trickle of blood pooling beneath him.
Archer didn’t move. Didn’t lower his gun. He waited. Breath steady. Focus unshakable.
But Molina wasn’t getting back up.
Not ever.
It was as if the world around them had shrunk to just the two of them, save for the distant sound of gunfire and chaos, as Cerberus dismantled the rest of the operation outside.
Lanie stood frozen, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, her hands trembling. She looked up at Archer, and for the first time since Molina had taken her, really looked at him.
He was the man who’d just put a bullet in her past. The man who had promised to protect her—who had kept that promise without hesitation, without regret.
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Archer closed the distance between them in two long strides, shoving his gun back into its holster as he reached for her. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t shy away. She launched herself straight into his arms.
Archer wrapped her up, holding her tight , one hand fisting in her hair, the other gripping the small of her back, pressing her against him like he could fuse her body to his own.
She was shaking. But she wasn’t breaking. She had fought, and she had won. And now—she was his. Completely.
“It’s over,” he murmured, voice low, raw, the words meant for her and her alone.
Lanie’s breath hitched as he clutched her tighter, and Archer knew, without a doubt, that he would never let her go.