Chapter 11
Eleven
THE SYNDICATE’S TRAP
DAPHNE
The quiet of the desert night was interrupted solely by distant sirens and the soft glow of city lights in the distance. The Vegas skyline appeared on the horizon, a subtle hint of its impressive presence.
Thal and I hid behind the side of a dumpster, watching the building twenty feet away for any sign of movement. We’d been asleep in bed when he was summoned by James, his lieutenant. He woke Thal to deliver a time-sensitive message.
He had received intel that Rhea was moving the physical markers, the paper contracts and blood oaths that governed the city’s oldest debts. Specifically, a folder Rhea intended to go public with her claim against me.
Thal hadn't just come here to steal guns. He’d come to steal the title to my life before Rhea could auction it off to the highest bidder. If we could take back those records, Zeno’s dark mercy would lose its teeth, and Rhea would lose her leverage.
If we could break in and steal the weapons, then Rhea and her men would hear our message loud and clear.
Thal and I wasted no time, jumping out of bed and meeting James and his security detail a few blocks away to strategize before heading to the warehouse. Thal had tried to get me to stay home, insisting things could turn violent, but I insisted on coming with him.
If he wanted my help, then he was going to get it fully.
I was doing my best to suppress my irritation, but he seemed to realize I wasn’t going to give in, so he relented.
Every muscle in my body was tense with anxiety, my senses on high alert. I knew we might be heading into a very dangerous situation, and I desperately wanted to stay calm despite the immense nervousness coursing through my veins.
“Stay behind me,” Thal ordered, drawing his pistol from his holster. I cocked my gun and glanced over his shoulder, my eyes surveying the area around the building.
“We’re sure the weapons are in there?” I questioned. So far, we’d seen no sign of life.
“My informant is very reliable.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath.
Thal motioned to James and his men, who were hiding behind the corner of the building closer to the entrance. The plan was for them to go in first, and we’d follow. Thal was eager to join the first group, I could tell, but he had agreed to stay back to protect me, which also annoyed me.
I would have been fine on my own, but he seemed to think he was now responsible for me. I hadn’t argued, but I knew that was a discussion we would have to have later.
For now, I was determined to prove to him that I could handle myself well. He might have been eager to join his comrades, but I was eager to demonstrate my skills.
I’d have to get past him first in order to do that.
We watched as James and his men approached the door, crouching with their weapons drawn. They burst open the door and breached the building, disappearing into the dark space just as Thal started running.
I followed behind him, easily keeping up with his pace. He stopped at the door, pausing to look inside before rushing in. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but once they did, I saw a vast empty space with a few boxes arranged along the walls.
There wasn’t a soul in sight, other than our own men.
Thal turned on a light, illuminating the warehouse, with its gleaming concrete floors and cinderblock walls coming into view. I watched as James approached a group of boxes in one corner, flipped open the lid, and rummaged inside. After a few seconds, he looked over at Thal and shook his head.
“A few rifles, nothing too powerful,” he said.
“Maybe the real shipment hasn’t arrived yet?” Thal asked.
James shrugged and started looking through the other boxes. I scanned the room, noticing another pile of boxes in the far corner. While James and Thal talked among themselves, I walked over and tried to ignore the fear creeping up my spine.
I approached the neatly packed pile of boxes on a table. I lifted the lid of the first box, and my heart stopped. These weren't just bank ledgers. They were files on people. Lives. I found a folder labeled “Collateral: Primary.”
I flipped it open, and the world went gray. There it was. My name, typed in clinical, cold font next to a dollar amount that made my stomach turn. My father’s jagged signature sat at the bottom like a death warrant.
But it was the red stamp across the center that stopped my heart: transfer pending.
To Rhea and Zeno, I wasn't a woman. I was like a vintage car, a piece of property moved across a ledger to settle a blood debt from ten years ago. The charity gala wasn't a party. It was an auction, and I was the sole item up for bid.
“What did you find?"
“It looks like Rhea’s been extremely busy. She’s meticulously keeping records of everyone’s finances. The list includes all the powerful figures in this city, along with a number of other names I don’t recognize.”
“She has everyone’s markers, Thal,” I said. I held up the folder with my name on it—the one with the red stamp. “But I’m the only one with a price tag. I'm the only one labeled as a pending transfer.”
Thal didn’t chuckle. His eyes turned into cold flints of obsidian, a look of such raw, possessive fury that I felt it in my chest.
“Price tags can be burned, Daphne,” he growled, his hand clamping over mine on the folder. “And I’m the one with the match. Rhea isn't collecting shit tonight.”
“She’ll stop at nothing,” James said, observing his men rifling through the many boxes filling the large room. “We need to move quickly. There’s no telling when someone else might arrive.”
“Honestly, I’d welcome Rhea herself showing up,” Thal said with a hint of sarcasm. “I have plenty I want to say to her.”
“Do you think she’d listen?” I pulled out my phone and took photos of the ledger pages. “She doesn’t seem like someone who takes advice well.”
“Probably not,” he started, but his words trailed off as gunfire erupted around us, ricocheting off the concrete floor and shattering the tense moment.
Without hesitation, we all took cover, hearts pounding as chaos erupted around us.
A wave of panic nearly caught in my throat, but I forced myself to breathe steadily. I ducked behind a cold metal post, my heart pounding as I searched through the chaos for Thal amid a barrage of bullets.
Amid the gunfire, I saw him crouched behind a battered wooden pallet, his eyes wide with fear. When he saw me, his eyes widened with alarm, and he signaled for me to stay down. I dropped to the ground, leaned against the post, drew my weapon, and listened for the direction of the gunfire.
The ambush seemed to be set from the back of the warehouse, and even as bullets whizzed past, I could hear the faint click and slide of someone reloading in that direction. I took a quick peek around the post, catching sight of utter chaos, faces grim, weapons raised, movements frantic.
An intense firefight raged, with James and his men fighting desperately to push through the chaos and get closer to whoever was shooting at us. I kept one eye on Thal, tracking his signals, while the other scanned the surroundings for any signs of sneaking enemies.
My eyes lowered to the ground, and I saw my phone lying there. I grabbed it and put it into my pocket as adrenaline heightened my awareness. If I could make it out, the footage on my camera roll might be very important.
“Fuck that,” I muttered under my breath.
There was no room for doubt. I was going to survive and get out of here with everyone else.
Zeno made sure I knew how to fight by pushing me through years of martial arts classes.
After earning my black belt, he signed me up for shooting lessons.
A year of dedicated practice made me the best shot in the class.
I was always a quick learner, but in particular enjoyed holding my gun and feeling the adrenaline rush each time I pulled the trigger. The surge of power I experienced when I fired was addictive, unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
All these skills surfaced, but I’d never been in a real firefight with someone trying to kill me. The men in this warehouse were no longer just paper targets.
That didn’t imply I wasn’t ready to fight.
The world slowed to a crawl as the roar of gunfire became a dull, underwater thud.
My body didn't just move, it executed. The heavy, cold steel of the Beretta felt like a natural extension of my arm.
Zeno had spent ten years turning me into a weapon, and now the safety was off.
I moved with a predatory grace I hadn't known I possessed, slicing through the crossfire like a shadow of smoke and lead.
Thal’s eyes widened, a flicker of shock crossing his face as I vaulted over a crate, but I was already past him. I didn't pray. I didn't blink. I simply leveled my weapon at the man aiming at Thal’s back and squeezed the trigger.
The kick of the gun was a sharp, familiar kiss against my palm. I watched the man's head snap back as the light left his eyes before he even hit the concrete. A cold, crystalline truth settled in my marrow: I wasn't a girl in a warehouse anymore.
Zeno had taught me to shoot so I could protect his investment. But as I pulled the trigger, I was no longer his ward. I was the Ghost of Olympus, and I’d just decided who lived and who died.
“Daphne,” Thal breathed, the name less of a question and more of a jagged oath.
He grabbed my arm, his fingers bruising my skin as he hauled me behind the wooden pallet. His chest heaved, his gaze darting from the dead man to me.
He didn't look angry. He looked feral. Devoured. He reached out, his thumb dragging through a stray spray of blood on my cheek.
“You just stained your soul for me,” he growled, his voice a low, jagged vibration that made my blood sing with a terrifying rhythm. He reached out, his thumb dragging through the warm, wet spray of blood on my cheek, smearing it across my skin like a brand.