Chapter 60 † He would
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Aurora blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then she slowly turned her head to look at him like she wasn't sure she heard correctly.
"What... did you just say?"
Leonard didn't look fazed. Not even slightly.
Her brows pulled together, disbelief washing over her face. "No, seriously.
Repeat that. I must've imagined it."
His smirk deepened.
Aurora stared at him, completely dumbfounded. "You dragged me here... pointed at a tattoo machine... and your first instruction is-"
She cut herself off, exhaling sharply.
"You have officially lost your mind."
Leonard tilted his head, studying her reaction like he was enjoying every second of it.
"I'm serious," she continued, gesturing toward the table. "You think I'm just going to-" she stopped again, shaking her head, "You're insane."
He stepped closer.
"You're shocked."
"I'm not shocked. I'm concerned. Deeply concerned."
"You're shocked," he repeated calmly.
Aurora let out a dry laugh. "You're unbelievable."
Her eyes flicked back to the tattoo table again.
Then back to him.
"Explain," she demanded.
Leonard didn't answer immediately.
He just watched her for a moment, eyes dark, unreadable.
Then he said quietly, "I need to be able to keep an eye on you."
Aurora frowned. "What?"
"So you don't drift out of reach," he continued, voice low, calm. "So I always know you're still within my world."
Her expression shifted slightly, confusion mixing with irritation. "That doesn't make any sense."
"It does to me."
"You're talking like I'm something you own."
His gaze didn't waver. "You walk away too easily. You disappear. One second you're here, the next you're gone, and I hate not knowing where you are."
Aurora's heart gave a small, traitorous skip.
"So this is your solution?" she asked, gesturing toward the tattoo setup. "Brand me?"
Leonard stepped closer, closing the small space between them. His fingers slid from her wrist to her palm, holding her hand properly now.
"Not brand," he murmured. "Keep."
She swallowed, annoyed at the warmth spreading through her chest.
"You're unbelievable."
"And you're still not pulling away."
Aurora realized she wasn't.
She immediately tried to withdraw her hand, but his grip tightened slightly.
"Relax," he said softly. "It's just something small."
Her eyes lifted to his. "You're not putting anything on me."
His thumb brushed across her knuckles once.
"We'll see."
The warehouse smelled like salt and metal.
It always did.
Crates moved in steady lines, carried by men who didn't speak unless spoken to. Nobody asked questions here. Nobody looked twice at anything.
That was the first rule of surviving inside here.
The second rule was simpler.
Don't look at Shadow.
She stood at the center of it all, arms folded, digital mask covering her face completely. It shifted and moved like a living thing, dark patterns bleeding into each other across the surface.
Her voice, when she spoke, came out layered and distorted, stripped of anything human.
"Faster," she said.
The men moved faster.
She walked the length of the warehouse slowly, heels quiet against the concrete floor.
Her eyes moved over everything. The crates. The manifest. The men loading the last of the shipment into the trucks waiting outside.
Forty eight packages. Twelve destinations. Three countries.
All of it accounted for. All of it clean.
She stopped at the end of the line and watched the last crate get sealed.
"Manifest," she said.
Someone handed it to her immediately. She scanned it once, eyes moving fast.
Everything matched.
She handed it back without a word.
"Move them out," she ordered. "The trucks leave in ten minutes. Anyone not ready gets left behind."
Nobody argued.
She turned and walked toward the far end of the warehouse, pulling out her phone.
She typed a short message, encrypted, routed through three different servers before it would reach its destination.
Shipment secure. Moving on schedule.
She sent it and slipped the phone away.
That was when she felt it.
That particular stillness. The kind that didn't come from silence but from someone deliberately making themselves quiet.
She looked up slowly.
He was on the upper level. Standing at the railing, looking down at the floor below. His posture was loose, relaxed, like he'd just wandered there out of boredom.
But his eyes were sharp.
They always were.
Zane.
Shadow held his gaze for exactly two seconds.
He looked away first.
He simply refused to give her the satisfaction of being watched back.
He pushed off the railing and disappeared through the door behind him without a word.
Shadow watched the space where he'd been standing for a moment.
Then she turned back to the warehouse floor.
"Nine minutes," she called out.
The men moved faster.
She didn't care that he'd been watching. She never did. Let him watch. Let him stand up there with his jaw tight and his hands in his pockets and his eyes full of something he refused to name.
It didn't change anything.
She ran this place the way his father built it. Clean. Efficient. Ruthless. She had been doing it long before Zane came back and she would be doing it long after whatever tantrum he was currently building toward finally broke.
He hated her.
She knew that.
She also knew he needed her. Which made the hatred manageable.
The last truck pulled out of the warehouse, headlights cutting through outside.
Shadow watched it go.
Then she turned and walked in the direction Zane had disappeared, unhurried, unbothered.
There was a briefing in twenty minutes. New orders from the top.
Shadow said nothing as she climbed the stairs to the upper level. Her mask flickered once in the low light, patterns shifting across its surface like smoke.
She pushed open the door and went inside.
The elevator doors slid open.
Sean stepped in, phone in hand, already scrolling.
He didn't look up.
The doors were almost closed when a hand shot through and stopped them.
Kimberly stepped in.
Sean glanced up briefly. Then back down at his phone.
Kimberly smoothed her hair and stood beside him, closer than necessary given the size of the elevator.
Sean shifted slightly without looking at her. Silence.
The elevator hummed upward.
Then Kimberly's fingers brushed his arm.
Light. Deliberate.
Sean looked down at her hand. Then at her face.
"Can I help you?" he asked flatly.
Kimberly smiled slowly. "Just being friendly."
"We're not friends."
She tilted her head. "We could be."
Sean stepped to the side, creating distance. "No thanks."
Kimberly's smile didn't waver. She moved closer again. "You know, most guys would consider themselves lucky."
"Lucky," he repeated.
"That I'm even giving you attention." She shrugged lightly. "I don't do this for everyone."
Sean looked at her for a long moment.
"Aren't you embarrassed?" he asked.
Kimberly blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You do this with everyone," he said simply. "Every guy that walks past. Every guy that breathes in your direction." He tilted his head. "Is there one you haven't tried?"
Her smile dropped.
"Watch your mouth," she said quietly.
"I'm just asking." He slipped his phone into his pocket. "Because from where I'm standing it looks exhausting."
"You should be grateful-"
"You tried this with Leonard," he cut in. "Didn't work. You tried it with Ricky. Didn't work." He paused. "And Aurora embarrassed you in front of everyone."
Kimberly's jaw tightened.
"Don't say her name," she said sharply.
"Why not?" Sean asked. "Because she did what nobody else had the nerve to do?"
" Leo and I had s€x by the way. So yeah, it worked on him." Kimberly rolled her eyes.
" That's because you're too easy. And by the way, he used you, you didn't succeed, you were an easy target that went to him. Don't feel proud."
"I will make your life here very difficult," Kimberly said, voice dropping low. "You have no idea who I am."
Sean looked completely unbothered.
"And you have no idea who I am," he replied calmly. "So we're even."
The elevator dinged.
Doors slid open.
Sean stepped out without looking back.
"Stay away from me," he said simply, and walked off down the corridor.
The doors stayed open.
Kimberly stood inside alone, chest tight, fingers curled at her sides.
The doors began to close.
She stopped them with her hand, stepped out sharply, and stood in the empty hallway.
Her jaw was set. Eyes burning.
She smoothed her cropped jacket with both hands. Once. Twice.
Then she tossed her hair back and walked in the opposite direction.
Head high.
Like none of it had happened.
But her hands were still shaking.