25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
Reaper
It’s been three days since the meeting with Cyrus, and the war room still carries the scent of smoke and adrenaline.
Wrenley’s seated at the head of the table, a queen without needing a throne.
Her hands are steepled beneath her chin, gaze fixed on the blueprints Elias pulled up on the screen, every room, hallway, and camera angle of the House of Silk.
“This place is a fortress,” Torque mutters, arms crossed tight over his chest. “But it’s not impenetrable.”
Wrenley glances up. “We’re getting them out. That’s not the question. But afterward…” her voice softens. “We can’t just turn them loose on the street. They’ll end up back in a place like this, or dead.”
Silence follows. Everyone knows she's right.
Wrecker clears his throat from the corner. “I might have a solution.”
All eyes shift to him. “My aunt,” he says. “She’s got farmland in Missouri. Runs housing for seasonal workers. Off-grid, protected, and she’s no stranger to helping people who’ve been through shit. If I explain what’s going on, I think she’d take them in.”
Wrenley studies him, her expression unreadable at first, then it shifts. She nods slowly. “That’s better than anything I was imagining. Can you call her?”
Wrecker nods. “I’ll make the call.”
Max leans forward beside Wrenley. “That gives us an exit plan. But are we sure this is the right place?”
Elias taps the map. “Cross-referenced property records, underground facility blueprints, and drone footage. Jessa’s intel checks out.
It’s here. Girls are kept in the lower levels, beneath the ‘entertainment floors’.
There are armed guards, surveillance cameras, and electronic locks on the basement doors. We’ll need a full-scale breach.”
I cross my arms and nod. “We’ll do it like Kandahar.”
Hunter glances at me and smirks. “Without the sand in our teeth this time, preferably.”
Wrenley looks between us. “You two are being cryptic again.”
Max answers before I can. “Coordinated chaos. Riot and Elias knock the system off balance. Torque and Wrecker cause a distraction at the main entrance. Reaper and I take point on extraction.”
“I’m going in,” Wrenley says. No hesitation. Not a flicker of doubt.
Max starts to speak, but I lift a hand, knowing we won’t win. “She goes,” I say evenly. “But we’re not going in blind. We plan this down to the second.”
Riot leans back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. “Can I blow something up this time?”
Elias rolls his eyes. “Why are you like this?”
“Because fire solves problems,” Riot deadpans.
Wrenly lifts her chin to me. “Then it’s settled. We get them out. We destroy the House of Silk.”
I glance around the room. Serpents. Fighters. Every one of them has a blade at her back.
I bend at eye level, gripping her chin. “We burn them down.”
The mission is locked. Every hand is in. Now, it’s time to move.
The mansion shifts into something else entirely, no longer a sanctuary, but a war front. The air buzzes with purpose. No one’s joking. No one’s distracted. Everyone knows what’s at stake. Thirty women, most barely older than girls. We won’t leave a single one behind.
I’m in the armory with Max, Hunter, and Noah. Torque is checking the vehicles with Wrecker. Cash is finishing recon outside with two of the new recruits, eyes on every satellite and drone feed Margot and Elias can give us.
Margot, God bless her twisted little soul, is parked in front of three screens in the war room, fingers flying across the keys, rerouting traffic cameras and creating blind spots where we’ll need them.
“If anyone even thinks about flipping a switch near that building, I’ll know before they blink. ” She mutters.
Doc’s already moved to the safehouse with two Serpents posted at the door. She’s stocked with supplies, portable beds, clean clothes, and an IV setup. She didn’t even wait for permission. Just packed up, looked Wrenley in the eye, and said, “I’ll be there when they need me.”
Wrenley nods. “They’ll need you.”
Back in the armory, Wrenley steps in like she owns the room. She’s already geared up, tight black tactical pants, long sleeved black shirt, braid coiled high. No makeup. Just warpaint reflecting in her stare.
Max notices the Kevlar vest in her hand and walks over, taking it from her. “You’re wearing this. Non-negotiable.”
“I wasn’t going to argue,” she smirks.
He fastens it carefully, his hands lingering for just a second. Then he whispers so only she and I can hear, “Just remember… don’t push anyone out of the way of bullets, okay?”
She smiles, soft but steady. “I’ll try.”
Try. That’s the best we get with her. It’s enough.
I slide a custom dagger across the table to her, shorter than her usual blade, made for quick strikes and easy concealment. “New toy,” I say.
Wrenley flips it in her hand and nods once. “Perfect.”
Torque steps through the back door with Wrecker on his heels. “Vans are loaded. Weapons in the floor panels, armor in the trucks. Riot’s prepping the drone.”
“Comm check in five,” I bark, turning to the others. “We hit this clean. We hit it fast. We get every single one of those girls out. You see someone you don’t know. You see someone in our way. Take them down.”
Hunter cracks his neck and checks the rounds in his rifle. “Let’s burn it to the fucking ground.”
Noah slings his bag over his shoulder, shotgun at his back. “Been waiting all week to stretch my legs.”
Even Elias appears in the doorway, slipping a balaclava with a skull face on it over his head, pistol holstered. “You’ll have eyes from above. Don’t break anything that looks expensive.”
I glance at Wrenley. She’s standing in the middle of all of it, calm as the eye of a storm. Steady. Cold. Focused. Her hand brushes mine as we pass each other in the hall.
“You ready?” My voice cuts through the quiet chatter around us.
Her eyes lift to mine sharp and unwavering.
There’s no hesitation in her. There never is.
She doesn’t answer me right away. Instead, she looks past me.
Out over the driveway. Every Serpent is here.
Engines idling, bodies still. Waiting and watching her.
Ready to follow her straight into hell without a second thought.
I feel it shift, the moment she steps into it. Into herself. Her fingers curl around the dagger at her throat. Just like that the noise falls away.
“Remember who you are,” She says, her voice calm, but it carries. “Remember what you vowed.”
No one moves. Not a single sound. She gives it right back to them.
“We are not chosen by fate. We choose. We do not swear to goodness. We swear loyalty. We stand with our own when the world names them monsters, and when it begs them to become one. We do not ask for forgiveness. We do not shrink to survive. We are shield and blade. We are silence and strike. What hunts ours will answer to us. We keep our secrets as we keep our scars, without regret, without apology, without surrender. If one of us falls, we fall together. If one of us burns, we feed the fire. If one of us is damned, then so are we. This is not a promise of salvation. This is a vow of devotion. We are bound by choice. We are bound by blood. We are bound by the truth we refuse to abandon. You are my war. You are my home. From first breath to last… We remain.”
When she finishes the silence settles over us, thick and electric.
I don’t look at the others. I’m watching her.
Always her. She turns her head just enough to meet my eyes, then Max’s.
For a second, there’s something softer there.
Something that belongs to us, not the war waiting outside those gates.
In a flash it’s gone, replaced by steel. “Let’s bring them home.”
Something in my chest locks into place at that. Yeah. We’re going to burn this place down.
The car hums beneath us, the tension thick and unspoken. Torque’s behind the wheel, his jaw tight, eyes scanning the road like he expects it to bite. Wrecker’s riding shotgun, one arm out the window, his other hand wrapped around his phone, held to his ear as he mutters quick updates.
Wrenley’s in the back seat between Max and me, her warmth pressed to my side. It’s silent except for the low rumble of tires on the asphalt and the occasional crackle over comms from other Serpents reporting in.
“She’s in,” Wrecker says suddenly, ending the call and twisting in the seat to face us. “She’ll take them.”
Max nods. “We’ll cover whatever she needs. Money, clothes, supplies, therapy—everything. These girls don’t owe a single thing.”
“I’ll call her back and let her know,” Wrecker says, then chuckles. “You heard her cuss me out in Italian. Said we should’ve warned her sooner, then added that she’ll cook for them until they’re too fat to run off.”
Torque laughs low. “I love her.”
“Everyone does. Especially when she yells at you in three languages.”
Wrecker turns forward again, phone resting in his lap. He switches to speaker and redials. A moment later, his aunt answers again in a warm but sharp voice. What follows is a rapid exchange in Italian, her voice sharp, commanding, and affectionate all at once.
Wrecker is nodding along, “Porta a casa sane e salve quelle ragazze, o ti scuoio io personalmente.” Bring those girls home safe, or I’ll skin you myself.
Wrecker clears his throat, then shifts to Italian, the accent warmer than I’ve ever heard from him: “Capito, zia. Non ti faro vergognare.” Understood, Auntie. I won’t shame you.
Even without understanding the language, I know exactly what she’s saying.
I’ve got them. Come safely. I’ll be ready.
Wrenley shifts beside me. Her fingers thread through mine, warm and strong. I glance down at her. She’s staring ahead, jaw tight, but when she squeezes my hand and reaches for Max’s with the other, I know something’s coming.
“If anything happens to me,” She begins, voice quiet but steady, “You finish this. Both of you. You burn it all down.”
Max tenses beside her. “Sparrow—”
My instinct is kicking in. “No,” I cut in. “Don’t say that. Nothing’s happening to you.”
“I know,” she says, glancing at me. Her eyes are calm, clearer than they’ve been in days. “But I made Max promise me this once before, and I need to say it. I trust both of you with everything, including this. Promise me.”
Max’s voice is rough when he says, “Anything for you, Sparrow.”
I exhale slowly, like the air’s been punched out of me. “You don’t get to leave me,” I say, but I squeeze her hand back. “But yeah… if it came to it… I’d finish it.”
She leans in, kissing Max first, slow and deep. Then she turns to me and presses her lips to mine. There’s nothing rushed about it. It’s not frantic or desperate. It’s a promise sealed in breath.
Torque slows the SUV as we reach the mark, two blocks from the House of Silk. One of our recon guys signals from a nearby alley. It’s time.
Before anyone opens a door, Wrenley turns to each of us.
“I love you all,” she says, eyes locking on the four of us.
“I love you more,” Max answers.
“Always have,” I say.
“I swear to God,” Wrecker mutters from the front. “You’re turning us all soft.”
“I love you too, Wren,” Torque adds with a smirk, pulling the SUV into the alleyway.
Wrecker turns, knowing Wrenley won’t let him leave without saying it. “This is why I don’t say it often. But yeah… me too, Queen.”
The SUV doors pop open one by one.
The silence that follows is the calm before everything else. Because once we move, it’s all fire. I don’t know if any of us will come out of this the same.