Chapter 10 Knox
Silas texted his informant from a burner.
We both went to meet him. Lena remained with our most trusted AIED officer, Alex Yuri. It was the first time we’d left her without either of us, and it sat wrong with me the entire drive. Silas wanted to go by himself, but this was a meeting I needed to be present at.
I had to see the informant talk for myself.
My brother was excellent at applying pressure.
He knew how to steer a conversation, how to corner someone until answers spilled out.
He was especially good at manipulation through pain.
But he didn’t watch the way I did. He sometimes missed the unspoken parts.
Everyone had tells, like a brief hesitation before lying, or a subtle shift in posture when something struck too close to the truth.
Bodies had a tendency to betray secrets long before the mouth ever could.
Information that came through Silas always felt incomplete. Not wrong, simply missing the visual pieces.
That was why I needed eyes on the informant the moment he arrived. But I couldn’t go alone. Without Silas, his primary handler, he might bolt. Fear made people stupid, and stupid people ran.
We arrived early and scoped the mill, mapping exits and sightlines, noting where someone might break for it if panic set in.
The informant showed up just before 1100, wearing a black hoodie and oversized jeans. His hands stayed jammed into his pockets, head down.
I tracked him as he crossed the cracked concrete, watching the tension in his shoulders and the uneven rhythm of his steps. His walk told me he was nervous, wired, and possibly high.
Silas approached first. I stayed back, keeping to the shadows so I wouldn’t spook him.
The informant nodded to Silas, then noticed me lurking in the dark. His eyes went wide as he turned to my brother.
“Who the fuck is this?” he hissed. “You said 'alone!'”
“I told you to come alone,” Silas snorted. “Not that I would. I own you, not the other way around. You do what I say. I'll bring whoever I want.”
The informant swallowed. “Well, who is he?”
“My twin brother. He works with me. You answer to him, too.”
Revealing my face, I stepped out from the shadows.
The informant scoffed, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands. “Great. Like one of you wasn’t enough. Can’t believe two of you scary fuckers exist.”
“Focus,” I snapped. “We have questions.”
He glanced at me, then back to Silas. “Shit. He’s impatient.”
Silas shrugged. “He’s also trigger-happy. So I’d talk if you don’t want a bullet in your foot.”
Silas smiled like it was a joke.
It wasn't.
The informant took another drag, eyes darting between us. “Marco’s been careful lately. Keeping things tight. I don’t know how much I can help.”
“You better,” I muttered.
“What my brother means,” Silas said smoothly, “is that if you want to stay useful, you'll answer everything we ask and a little more. We only keep useful informants alive.
The man shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
“Why is Marco being so careful right now?” I asked.
“He lost something,” the informant said. “He’s trying to get it back. Questioning everyone. Watching everything.”
“Lost what?” Silas pressed.
The informant shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“An omega?” I asked. “One of his 'wives' as he lovingly calls them?”
His eyes went wide.
That told me enough.
“You’re holding back,” I said, drawing my gun and pressing the barrel to his temple. “Bad choice.”
“Fuck,” he gasped. “Okay. Yes. One of them got loose. There’s a bounty out for any intel that leads to her whereabouts. Everyone from the top down has eyes out for her. Even unranked members.”
“Why does he care so much? Doesn't he have two dozen omegas?” Silas asked. His tone stayed casual, but I knew better. “We heard intel that the escaped one was his least favorite. That he tortured her... something to do with her heat…”
“Oh, that?” the lookout said with a short laugh. “Marco threatens all of them with that. Only ever followed through with the one. He never had to with any others. The fear keeps most of them in line, so they don't end up like her. The other omegas are terrified he’ll do it to them too.”
“Threatens what?” I asked, eyes narrowing.
“Tying them up during their heat and locking them in the basement. Alone,” he said, shrugging and taking another drag.
“That’s what he did to the missing one. Every heat.
For years. No suppressants, no medical care, and no knot.
I was told you used to be able to hear her screaming through the whole house. "
He continued, oblivious to our rising rage, "She should have died from heat fever by now; no clue how she's lasted this long. That's why she's so fucking crazy. ”
Something in Silas snapped.
“What the fuck,” he growled, fist closing around the informant’s throat and slamming him back against the cold concrete wall. His composed mask shattered as violence poured in unchecked.
Normally, I would’ve pulled him off. Reeled it back in.
I couldn’t this time.
My own control was gone too.
Five years of heat cycles. Alone. Restrained. In a basement.
That wasn’t punishment. That wasn’t cruelty. That was torture worse than death.
So how the hell had the runt survived?
“Is the other omega you mentioned still at the house you told me about?” Silas asked, loosening his grip on the informant’s throat just enough for him to suck in air.
“I—I assume so, man,” the informant gasped. “I haven’t seen her leave, and I doubt he’s moving any of them right now. Marco comes and goes to give her a quick knot.”
“I want to know what security on that house looks like,” Silas said. “How many men? Cameras? Who’s watching them? Everything!” Silas barked.
“Okay. Okay,” the man rushed out. “I’ll find out.”
“Do it fast,” Silas said. “I’ll text you tomorrow. When I do, I want everything. Got it?”
“Yes,” he choked out, nodding frantically as Silas finally released him.
Then we left, both of us eager to get back to Lena now that we knew the truth.
We finally understood the full extent of what she had endured. The depth of her trauma made so much more sense. Every muscle in my body was tight, flooded with anger, worry, and stress.
I needed to see her. I could tell Silas felt the same. So we went straight to her room, dismissing Officer Yuri, who had been monitoring her inside the safe house.
“Thanks for keeping an eye on her,” I muttered, clapping him on the back before moving past him.
“No problem, sir,” he said, nodding and returning to his post outside.
Lena was exactly where we’d left her, buried beneath the ever-growing pile of nesting materials we’d been supplying her with. Her head popped up at the sound of us entering, sleepy eyes widening when she saw both of us.
I rushed forward immediately, dropping to my knees beside the mattress. Silas lingered near the door.
I reached for her, then stalled when she flinched. My hand hovered between us, suspended.
“I know what you were trying to tell us earlier,” I whispered.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Marco didn’t knot you during your heats,” I continued. “He tied you up and made you go through them alone. Every. Single. One. Is that right?”
For a long moment, she didn’t move.
Then her small chin dipped, and her gaze dropped to the floor.
"Is that why you killed Jacob? You didn't want him to tell us? You were ashamed?"
She shrugged, not able to meet my gaze.
"How did you survive?"
A whimper slipped past her lips.
My hand remained suspended, an offering of comfort, but I didn't force it on her. A purr rumbled from my chest.
"I'm so sorry that happened to you," I whispered.
She still didn't look up.
"I'm going to tell you something Lena. Something only Silas and I know. I'm choosing to trust you to keep our secret, now that we know about yours."
She looked up finally, eyes moving between us both. Silas' jaw worked overtime, teeth grinding, but he didn't try to stop me.
“Marco Belini killed our mother.”
The words hung between us.
A sharp gasp slipped from Lena’s lips. Her eyes went wide, breath catching as if the air had been knocked from her lungs.
I didn’t look at her when I continued. My gaze drifted somewhere past the room, past the mattress, past the present...
We were dirt poor after our father left. It was just the three of us after that, Silas, me, and our mother, trying to survive in a city that didn’t forgive weakness.
The west side was loud, crowded, and always hungry.
Work was scarce, especially for a single mom with twin boys in tow, and what little she could find barely kept us afloat.
Our mom, determined to keep us fed, took whatever jobs she could get: cleaning, waitressing, mostly long hours and cash under the table.
It still wasn’t enough. We went hungry often.
But then she met Enzo Bellini.
I still remember sitting in the back of a battered cleaning van, my knees pulled to my chest, my stomach aching with hunger. Silas sat beside me, already harder than most boys his age, already angry at the world. We tried hard not to be seen.
Enzo noticed us anyway.
At the beginning, the Bellinis felt like our family’s saviors.
Enzo took pity on our mother, giving her a full-time, live-in position. Stability. Food. A roof over our heads. For the first time in a long time, we weren’t fighting just to make it through the day.
And with that came Enzo’s son, Marco.
He was older than us by several years, and at first, we admired him. Silas and I followed him around like shadows, eager for his attention and approval. He let us, keeping us close enough to feel chosen.
For a while, it felt like belonging.