Chapter Thirty-Two
Jax
The jet was hushed and dimmed gold, the kind of cocooned luxury that would’ve made me feel untouchable any other night. But not tonight. Tonight, the world felt like it was made of glass.
Estelle was asleep in my lap, her head tucked under my chin, her hand fisted in my shirt like she was afraid I’d vanish if she let go. I stroked her soft hair, slow and careful, pretending my hands weren’t shaking.
This was my girl. My fucking world.
Across from me, Connor sat with Sierra curled into his chest—his world—her legs draped over his lap, his arms wrapped around her. Adrian sprawled sideways in his seat, Toffee’s carrier next to him, his green eyes flicking between us and the glowing laptop on his stomach.
“I called Jovie," I said quietly, my voice barely disturbing the cabin's silence. "Tripled security around the house. Leo's got a four-man detail now. They’re ex-military, vetted through Dad's contacts. No one gets within a block of them.”
Connor's dark eyes met mine over Sierra's head. "Good. "
"Also got this back." I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out the shattered remains of Estelle's phone. The screen was a spider web of cracks, the plastic casing split down one side. “I had someone pick up a replacement during the fight."
Adrian looked up from his tablet, eyeing the ancient device. “Shit, what is that? A fossil?"
"It's six years old," I said, defensive despite myself. "She couldn't afford?—"
"I know." Adrian's voice gentled, understanding flickering in his green eyes. “I’ll transfer everything for her now. Contacts, photos, whatever.”
I watched him work, fingers flying over his laptop keyboard with inhuman speed. The broken phone sat connected by a thin cable, its cracked screen occasionally flickering to life.
"How long?"
"Five minutes. Maybe less. She's got like three apps and a thousand photos of Leo." Adrian's expression softened as he scrolled through the images. "Kid's got a good smile."
I bristled, tension coiling in my shoulders. "Don't look through her photos," I growled.
Adrian's fingers paused on the screen, and he glanced up at me with raised eyebrows. "Relax, I'm not—" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening slightly at the screen. "Oh."
Oh.
The single syllable carried enough weight to make my blood run cold. I lunged forward, trying not to jostle Estelle, and snatched the phone from his hands, pressing it face-down against my chest.
"What the fuck did you just see?" I hissed, my voice low and dangerous.
Adrian held up both hands in surrender, but there was a mischievous glint in his green eyes. "Jesus, calm down. It's just Estelle wearing a Santa hat. Cute as hell, actually."
I blinked, the murderous rage in my chest deflating like a punctured balloon. "What? "
"A Santa hat, Lion. Red and white, very festive. She's standing in a classroom with a bunch of kids around her." Adrian's grin was pure mischief. "Did you think I was looking at something else? Your mind went straight to the gutter, didn't it?"
Connor's lips twitched in amusement. "He got you."
"I was just fucking with you," Adrian continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Didn’t see anything scandalous. Though the way you just reacted..." He waggled his eyebrows. "Now I'm curious what kind of photos you think she has on there."
I wanted to take a hammer to his face. Instead, I forced myself to take a deep breath, glancing down at Estelle's sleeping form. She looked so innocent, so peaceful, and here I was ready to commit murder over a festive photo.
"Just... finish the transfer," I conceded quietly, handing the phone back. "And shut up."
Adrian's expression softened slightly, though the mischief remained. "Look, I get it. You're wound tight after what happened today. But she's safe now, and I promise I’m not some pervert rifling through your girl's stuff.”
I nodded, watching Estelle’s steady breaths as she slept. I knew he was right, trying to lighten the mood, and it worked, sort of.
"Done," Adrian announced a few minutes later, disconnecting the cables. "Everything's transferred. Her photos, contacts, messages—all of it. And I've set up some better security protocols on the new phone. Encrypted messaging, secure cloud backup, the works."
He paused, then added with a grin, "And for the record, she looked adorable in that Santa hat. Very teacher-ish."
Despite everything, I felt my lips curve slightly. "She wore it to the academy, I guess.”
"See? Perfectly innocent." Adrian tucked the cables away. "Though I have to say, the way you just reacted was fucking priceless. Connor, please tell me you got that on video."
"No," Connor said dryly, but he was definitely amused.
I shook my head, some of the tension finally leaving my shoulders. Leave it to Adrian to find a way to make me laugh even in the middle of planning someone's murder.
But the moment of levity died as Adrian's expression shifted, his fingers dancing across the keyboard with focus. The blue light cast shadows across his face, making him look like a digital reaper cataloguing souls.
"Confirmed," he said grimly, voice carrying that manic edge that meant blood was about to spill. "Damon's men. Two guns from the cartel."
He rotated the tablet toward me. Security footage showed two figures in black scaling the arena’s exterior wall, their movements precise, professional. My fingers brushed Estelle’s hair, the rage so sharp I tasted copper.
“Where is he?”
“Downtown loft.” Adrian’s finger tapped the screen, pulling up an image of a high-rise. “He thinks he’s untouchable behind twelve floors of cartel muscle.”
Connor’s voice rumbled through the dark, low enough not to disturb the girls. “Guards?”
“Four on rotation. Two at the private elevator, two on the roof.” Adrian’s smile was all teeth and malice. “They’re expecting legal threats, not us.”
Estelle stirred, a soft breath caught in her throat. I pressed my lips to her hair, inhaling the fading citrus scent of her hair. “Shhh, princess,” I murmured, my hand sliding up to cradle her. “I’ve got you.”
Her lashes fluttered but didn’t open, her trust a blade twisting in my chest. She had no idea what we were about to do. What monsters we were about to become, but even if she did, I wouldn’t fucking care. She’d have to understand one way or another.
When I looked up, Connor was watching me, his gaze sharp. “You’re in?”
I didn't blink. Didn't hesitate. "I'll tear his throat out with my teeth. "
I wanted to destroy Damon with my bare hands for even making me think about a world where she didn’t exist.
Adrian’s eyes lit with unholy glee as he continued digging through files. “Gas line in the kitchen. We could make a small explosion, non-lethal but… persuasive. Flush him out like a rat.”
I nodded, jaw clenched so hard it hurt. My hand drifted to the hidden compartment built into the jet’s seats, my thumb brushing the edge of the fingerprint pad.
My gun was inside, loaded, a spare mag nestled in memory foam. I never went anywhere without it, though I’d never needed it on the jet before.
Now I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About how close I’d come to losing her. About how easy it would be to put a bullet in Damon’s skull and end this.
Connor's hand moved in slow circles over Sierra's back, his voice a careful whisper. "We're not waiting for the hearing."
Adrian grinned, all teeth and malice. “I can fake a call from some underlings, draw him outside, do it the boring way.”
“And then?” Connor’s tone was soft, but his eyes were dead black.
I met his stare, letting all the rage and terror I’d been holding back show. “We make him regret it.”
Adrian’s knife flicked open, the blade catching the cabin light. “Warehouse?”
“Warehouse,” I agreed.
My heart hammered, but it was a cold, steady rhythm now. I’d been raised to solve problems with charm, money, and exactly this when needed. This was a threat, and threats got erased.
Estelle shifted in my lap, her hand tightening in my shirt. I stilled, holding my breath until she settled, her breathing deep and even. I ran my fingers through her hair again, gentling myself for her sake.
Adrian’s gaze flicked to my hand on the gun safe, then back to my face. He nodded once, understanding.
“You want the honors? ”
“I want him alive,” I said quietly. “I want him to know why he’s dying.”
Connor’s lips twisted in a rare, vicious smile. “He will.”
I looked out the window, the city lights blurring beneath us. The jet was a sanctuary, but it was also a cage. I couldn’t move, couldn’t act, not while Estelle slept in my arms. I was half a man, half a monster, waiting for the chance to become whole.
Connor’s penthouse was silent except for the soft shuffle of Toffee exploring his kingdom. Connor carried Sierra straight to the master bedroom, his arms locked around her like she was the only thing tethering him to the ground.
I followed with Estelle, her slight weight curled against my chest, her breath warm against my collarbone.
Adrian trailed behind, arms full of bags, his manic energy muted and careful.
Connor laid Sierra gently on the bed, brushing her hair from her forehead and tucking the sheets around her shoulders. She blinked up at him, eyes wide and trusting, and he bent to press a kiss to her temple.
“Sleep, sweet girl,” he soothed, his voice so soft I almost didn’t hear it. “We’ll be back soon.”
I laid Estelle on the other side of the bed, smoothing the blanket over her frame. She stirred, eyes fluttering open, and I crouched so my face was level with hers.
“You’re safe here, princess,” I whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Connor’s penthouse is a fortress. Mara’s outside, and we’ve got security on every floor. No one’s getting in on your sleepover.”
She reached for my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. “Where are you going?”
I forced a smile, letting my thumb brush over her knuckles. “PR stuff. Sponsors, press. Since I skipped out.” I leaned in, my voice dropping lower. “I’ll be back before you wake up. Promise.”
The lie was poison on my tongue, but I'd told worse ones for less important reasons.
Adrian poked his head in, arms full of takeout bags and a tray of dessert. “We left food in the kitchen. There’s coffee, tea, juice, and enough sugar to keep you both buzzing for days. And I’m locking Toffee in here so he doesn't eat your goodies.”
Sierra managed a sleepy smile, her hand reaching for Connor’s. He squeezed it; his thumb tracing circles on her wrist, then leaned down and murmured something in her ear. She nodded, her eyes meeting his, and I watched a silent conversation pass between them, something intimate and knowing.
She understood. She had an understanding since Jerry. She wouldn’t tell Estelle, but she knew this wasn’t just a media obligation. She knew it was something that required blood.
Connor straightened, his hand lingering on Sierra’s cheek. “We’ll lock the door from the outside. Mara will be in the hallway. It won't open for anyone.”
Sierra nodded again, her voice barely a whisper. “Be careful.”
Adrian grinned, meticulously placing cat treats on the foot of the bed so Toffee would sleep with the girls. “Careful’s my middle name. Right after ‘Catalyst.’” He winked at Sierra, then at Estelle, but the seriousness in his eyes made me feel bittersweet.
Estelle’s fingers tightened around mine, like my princess didn’t want me to leave.
I bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting my lips linger. "Sleep, princess. I'll be back soon. I promise."
“Please don’t leave me, too.”
The words were so quiet, so openly vulnerable, I stared down at her half-asleep face.
Whatever I’d prepared to say vanished, swallowed up by the ache in her voice.
She was a storm survivor in a delicate shell: almost shot, ripped from everything safe—her trust so hard-won, and now she wanted me, not my protection, my presence .
I cupped her jaw in my palm, thumb brushing her cheek. My forehead met hers, and the world shrank to her sleep-warm skin and the silent tremors of her breath.
“I will never leave you.” My voice was rough, barely steady. “You hear me? I will always come back. You’re not losing anyone else—not while I’m breathing."
She nodded sleepily, her lashes fluttering shut, but her hand didn’t leave mine until I gently pried it away. I watched her, memorizing the fact that she was safe now.
Adrian was quiet for a few minutes, then glanced at me, understanding. “Ready?”
I nodded, my heart a fist in my chest. “Let’s go.”
We slipped out, and Connor deadlocked the door from the outside. Mara nodded as she took her post. The penthouse was locked down, every camera feed on, every alarm set. The girls were safe.
I planned on vetting another ex-WBA woman to guard our girls with her after this incident; we clearly couldn’t be too fucking careful.
In the hallway, Connor’s jaw was tight, his eyes dark. “She knows,” he rumbled affectionately, meaning Sierra. “She always knows.”
Adrian’s grin was sharp. “Your bee doesn’t go buzzing around. We’re good.”
I nodded, glancing back at the closed door. “Let’s make sure we come back.”
Connor’s lips twisted in something like a smile. “We always do.”
For their sake, for ours, we would always come back.