Chapter 31
I’m in church before anyone else.
I take my seat. Not at the head. That seat is not mine. I don’t pace. I don’t check my phone. I don’t move. I sit. Watch. Wait.
The door opens behind me, footsteps heavy enough that I don’t need to turn to know who it is.
Shadow.
He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t ask why I’m here early. He drops into his chair like he’s been here the whole time, arms folding across his chest, gaze already scanning the room the same way mine is.
A few seconds later, Joker walks in. He shuts the door slower than necessary, eyes dragging over me once before he takes his seat. “Morning, sunshine,” he says.
I don’t answer.
He grins anyway.
Blaze comes in next, rubbing the back of his neck like he slept wrong, which he probably did. He stops just inside the room, looks between me, Shadow, and Joker, and lets out a low whistle. “Well, this is fucking cheerful.”
“Sit down,” Shadow says.
Blaze drops into a chair. “You know, sometimes I wake up and think maybe today won’t be a shitshow. Today was not one of those days.”
More footsteps.
Hammer. Cain. Carter. Dom. Landon. The room fills fast, tension settling in layers instead of spiking. Nobody’s loud. Nobody’s joking too hard. Even Blaze dials it back once Logan walks in.
Logan doesn’t waste time. He shuts the door behind him, takes his seat, and looks around the table once before speaking. “Talk.” The word lands. Final. No side conversations. No distractions. This isn’t a check-in. This is a problem.
Dom leans forward first, laptop already open in front of him, fingers tapping the keys like he hasn’t stopped working since the call last night.
“Burners are dead,” he says. “All three numbers tied to the van hit are disconnected. SIMs were pulled, devices wiped, probably dumped within ten minutes of the attempt.”
“Plate?” Logan asks.
“Partial,” Dom answers. “Matches two stolen vehicles in the last month. Both recovered stripped. They’re rotating.”
“Cameras?” Cain asks.
Dom nods once. “We got them on two intersections before they cut east. Same van, same driver profile, same pattern. After that, they disappear.”
“How?” Blaze mutters.
“Pre-mapped routes,” Dom says. “They knew where cameras are. Took turns that kill visibility. It wasn’t panic. It was planned.”
I sit back in my chair. Not relaxed. Still. Listening. Tracking.
Landon shifts beside Dom, sliding a folder across the table toward Logan. “Money lines up with it.”
Logan flips it open.
Landon continues. “Small deposits, spread across multiple accounts. Shells. Clean enough to pass surface checks, but when you stack them, they create a pattern.”
“How small?” Carter asks.
“Small enough to look like nothing,” Landon says. “Big enough to pay for bodies.”
Silence settles for half a second.
Blaze leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “So we’re dealing with organized assholes instead of random ones. That’s comforting.”
“Not random,” Dom corrects. “Structured.”
Logan’s eyes lift. “Meaning?”
Dom turns the laptop so everyone can see.
“Multiple reports have come in over the past few weeks.” My focus sharpens.
“Missing girls,” he says. The words land heavier than anything else so far.
“Not one,” Dom continues. “Not isolated. Different towns but still close. Different backgrounds. No obvious connection on the surface.”
Blaze’s jaw tightens. “You’re saying this is bigger.”
“I’m saying it’s a system,” Dom answers.
Landon nods. “Payments match that. Repeated. Predictable. This isn’t a one-off grab. It’s ongoing.”
Someone at the table mutters, “Jesus.”
Cain leans forward. “Details.”
Dom scrolls. “Different neighborhoods,” he says. “Some close to here. Some farther out. Different jobs. Different routines. But the way they’re taken? Same every time.”
My hands stay loose at my sides. Still. Controlled.
“Routine tracked,” Dom continues. “Timing precise. They wait for gaps. For moments where targets are isolated but not expecting it. Extraction is fast. Clean. No witnesses if they can help it.”
Shadow’s voice cuts through. “And when they can’t?”
Dom’s eyes flick up. “They adapt.”
The alley flashes in my head. Her body hitting pavement. The knife at her throat. My jaw tightens. Not enough for anyone else to notice. Enough for me.
Blaze exhales slowly. “This isn’t random. This is a pipeline.”
The room goes quiet. Not shocked. Not surprised. Recognizing.
Logan leans back slightly, eyes moving around the table. “Say it.”
“No,” Blaze says, shaking his head once. “Fuck that. I don’t want to be right.”
“You already are,” Dom says.
No one argues. Because they see it too. I don’t speak.
I don’t need to. Inside, everything aligns.
Olivia’s folder. Her name. Her salon. Her family.
Her routine. The timing of the van outside Ambrosia.
The timing at the club. The alley. They weren’t guessing.
They weren’t hoping. She wasn’t an opportunity.
She was selected. That locks something deeper into place.
This isn’t about reacting anymore. This isn’t about cleaning up one bad situation or protecting one woman from one group of men. This is a system.
And that system is targeting what’s mine.
Logan’s voice cuts back in. “We don’t move blind.”
“They sure as fuck aren’t.” The words leave me before I think about them. Every head turns. I don’t explain. I don’t need to. They know what I mean. They moved with information. With planning. With structure. We’re the ones catching up.
Logan studies me for a second, then nods once like he’s filing that away. “Then we catch up fast.”
“Or we get ahead,” Joker adds quietly.
“By doing what?” Carter asks.
Options start getting thrown around.
“Expand surveillance,” Cain says.
“Tap into other chapters,” Shadow adds.
“Pull the women off-grid until we know what we’re dealing with,” someone else suggests.
“No.” The word cuts through the room. Mine. Heads turn again.
Logan’s eyes lock on me. “Explain.”
“She doesn’t leave.” There’s no hesitation in it. No room for negotiation.
Carter leans forward slightly. “You’re talking about Olivia.”
I don’t answer that. I don’t need to. I look at him. Then at Logan. Then back to the table. “They built around her routine,” I say. “Her job. Her timing. Where she walks. Where she goes. That’s how they got close.”
“So we pull her out of that routine,” Cain says.
“No,” I reply. “We change the environment.”
Dom’s brows draw together. “Meaning?”
“She stays here.”
Silence. Not because they don’t understand. Because they do.
“And if they come here?” Carter asks.
“They won’t,” I say.
“That’s a big fucking assumption,” Blaze mutters.
“It’s not,” I answer. “They’re working patterns. Controlled environments. Low risk. They don’t hit fortified locations unless they have to.”
“And if they decide they have to?” Logan presses.
“Then we’re ready.” That lands. Harder. Because they know what “ready” means in this room. It means blood. It means bodies. It means war.
Landon taps his fingers lightly against the table. “Financially, they’re operating like a network. That means layers. That means they don’t expose the top unless something forces them.”
“Then we force them,” I say.
Logan’s gaze sharpens. “That’s not how this works,” he says.
“It is now.”
The room shifts. Not loud. Not explosive. But enough. Because they hear it. The line I just stepped over.
Logan leans forward, forearms braced on the table. “We don’t blow this open without knowing who we’re hitting.”
“We don’t sit and wait while they keep taking girls, trying to take my girl.” I reply.
Dom breaks the tension before it snaps. “We can do both.”
Logan’s eyes flick to him. “Explain.”
“Expand intel,” Dom says. “Track the money, track the routes, build a clearer picture. At the same time, we tighten security here. Lock down patterns. Make sure no one else is easy to grab.”
“Everyone stay in pairs,” Cain adds. “No one moves alone.”
“Prospects rotate coverage,” Shadow says. “Inside and out.”
Blaze nods. “We make this place a fucking fortress without making it feel like one.”
Logan considers it. Then looks back at me. “And her?”
“She stays.” I don’t say her name. I don’t say Olivia. I don’t say anything else. Just that.
The words sit in the room.
Blaze exhales slowly through his nose.
Joker’s mouth curves faintly.
Shadow watches.
Logan nods once. “Fine,” he says. “She stays.” It’s not approval. It’s acceptance.
Dom turns his laptop back toward himself. “I’ll keep digging. There’s a pattern here. We just need to find the thread that ties it all together.”
“We’ll find it,” Landon adds.
I lean back slightly in my chair. For the first time since this started, everything feels clear. Not easier. Not lighter. Clear. They have a system. They picked her.
Wrong move.
Dom says, “We’ll find the source.”
I don’t answer. I don’t need to. Inside, the thought settles like something permanent. Not hope. Not a plan. Certainty.
I’ll end it.
Because she isn’t part of the problem anymore.
She’s the reason it ends.