CHAPTER 5 – Marcus
Blood dries quickly under fingernails. It's one of those details they don't mention in movies—how it cracks and flakes, how it stains the cuticles despite your best efforts. I scrub my hands in the industrial sink, watching pink-tinged water swirl down the drain.
The secondary safehouse has proven useful, though not in the way I anticipated. What began as a temporary refuge from the Delgados' attack has become an operational center, complete with a basement level few know exists.
Gabriel enters the washroom. "Ortiz is still breathing. Barely."
"Good. Have Kane pump him with enough antibiotics to keep him alive. He still has information we need."
"And the other one?"
I dry my hands on a pristine white towel, the remaining flecks of blood stark against the fabric. "Prep the room. Give me thirty minutes."
Gabriel hesitates. "And what about her?"
Leona. The unexpected variable in my carefully ordered world. "She's secured in the upper apartment. Double the guard while I'm occupied."
After Gabriel leaves, I check my reflection in the mirror. No blood on my face, no outward sign of the violence I've just administered. Only my eyes betray me—cold, focused, the eyes of a predator mid-hunt.
I've kept Leona away from this side of my business. Not out of concern for her sensibilities but because knowledge is power, and she's already dangerous enough. Still, she's smart. Observant. She knows something is happening beneath the surface of this building.
The upper apartment is quiet when I arrive. Security is stationed discreetly at the entry points. Leona sits by the window, watching the city. She's changed into clothes I had delivered.
She looks up when I enter, eyes tracking me with wary calculation. "Where have you been?"
"Handling business."
Her gaze drops to my hands—clean now, but her expression suggests she sees the invisible stains. "What kind of business leaves a man looking like you do right now?"
"The necessary kind." I move to the bar, pouring two fingers of whiskey. "How's your wrist?"
She rubs the marks left by the handcuffs from our earlier excursion. "Why do you care?"
"I prefer not to damage what's mine."
"I'm not yours."
"Evidence suggests otherwise."
Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't argue further. Progress. The events at the garage, seeing her apartment destroyed—reality is settling in, whether she acknowledges it or not.
My phone buzzes. Gabriel. Ready.
"I have to step out again," I tell her. "Stay in the apartment. The consequences for disobedience will be... unpleasant."
"More unpleasant than being held captive by you?"
I smile without humor. "Considerably."
The basement level is accessed through a hidden elevator requiring both a retinal scan and a keycard. Three security checkpoints, each manned by people I trust implicitly—or at least, as implicitly as someone in my position can trust.
The interrogation room waits at the end of a sterile corridor.
Inside, a man is strapped to a metal chair bolted to the floor.
Diaz. Former security chief for my east-side operations, now revealed as a Delgado informant.
His betrayal led to Ortiz's capture and nearly cost me the advantage of keeping Leona's location secret.
Gabriel stands against the wall, face impassive. A small metal table holds an array of implements—each chosen for its psychological impact as much as its practical use.
Diaz looks up when I enter, fear flashing across his features before he masks it with defiance. "Drake."
"Diaz." I remove my jacket, hanging it on a hook by the door. "I'm disappointed."
"Fuck you."
I roll up my sleeves methodically. "How much?"
"What?"
"How much did the Delgados pay you to betray me? To sacrifice men who trusted you?"
He spits on the floor. I don't react. Instead, I select a thin blade from the table, testing its weight in my hand.
"Let's try again. How much?"
"This isn't about money."
Interesting. I circle behind him, letting anticipation build. "Family pressure, then? They're holding someone?"
His silence is answer enough. Leverage, not greed. It changes my approach but not the outcome.
"Who?"
More silence. I press the blade against his ear, not cutting yet, just letting him feel the cold metal. "I'll find out eventually. The only variable is how much of you remains when I do."
For the next twenty minutes, I work methodically. Pain is a science—knowing where to cut, how deep, when to push, and when to relent. Diaz breaks in stages, each revelation extracted with precision.
His sister. The Delgados have his sister. They promised to release her in exchange for information on my operations, on the woman I'm protecting.
"Leona Varela," he gasps when I ask why they want her so badly. "They say she's the key to something big. Something about her brother and codes to offshore accounts."
Now we're getting somewhere. Cody Varela, it seems, left more loose ends than I realized.
"What else?"
"They're planning to move on the Ivanovs next. Using her as leverage to pit you against each other."
Clever. The Russians would be formidable allies against me if properly motivated.
I'm about to press for more when a small sound—the whisper of fabric against concrete—catches my attention. I glance toward the observation window, a one-way mirror built into the wall.
A shadow shifts behind it.
Leona.
I don't break the rhythm or acknowledge the unseen observer. Instead, I focus back on Diaz, who's fading fast, blood loss making him pale but lucid.
"Last chance. Tell me where they're holding your sister."
He does. The location, the security, every detail he knows. When he's finished, I step back, assessing what remains of the man who betrayed me.
"Thank you for your cooperation."
The blade slides across his throat.
Gabriel steps forward as Diaz's body slumps. "I'll have cleanup handle this. And the sister?"
"Send a team. Extract her. Once she's secure, kill everyone at the location."
"Understood."
I wash my hands again, more thoroughly this time, before heading to the observation room. As expected, Leona stands frozen in the center, face pale, eyes wide.
"Enjoying the show?" I ask, closing the door behind me.
She takes a step back. "You killed him."
"Yes."
"After he told you everything."
"Also yes."
She takes another step back. "That's—"
"Ruthless?" I move closer, backing her against the wall. "This is my world, Leona. People betray. People die. The only variables are when and how."
She doesn't flinch or look away. I have to admire her control, even as I note the rapid pulse visible at her throat.
"How did you get down here?"
"I followed one of your men. The redhead. He wasn't very observant."
Mental note: Replace the guard. Or better yet, make an example of him.
"Curiosity is dangerous in my world." I place my hand against the wall beside her head, caging her in without touching. "Especially for someone in your position."
Her gaze follows my hands, still damp from washing away Diaz's blood. "Is that what awaits me when I'm no longer useful to you?"
"That depends entirely on you."
"On my cooperation?" A bitter laugh escapes her. "My submission?"
"On your adaptability." I lean closer. "Diaz betrayed me. He endangered people under my protection. The punishment fits the crime."
"And what's my crime? Being related to someone who crossed you?"
I study her face—the defiant tilt of her chin, the intelligence in her eyes, the lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. Despite witnessing what I'm capable of, she still challenges me.
Fascinating.
"Your only crime so far is trespassing where you don't belong." I step back, giving her space. "Don't make me add to that list."
"Or what? You'll slit my throat too?"
"No." My voice drops lower. "I have other methods for dealing with you." I take her arm, firm but not cruel. "It's time to go back upstairs. You've seen enough for one day."
She doesn't resist as I lead her to the elevator. The silence between us pulses with unasked questions, with the reality of what she's witnessed.
"Why did you let me see that?" she finally asks as the elevator ascends. "You knew I was watching."
"Because sooner or later, you need to understand exactly what kind of man you're dealing with." The doors open to the upper level. "And exactly what kind of world you're now part of."