Chapter Five” Dirty Games and Dangerous Truths #3
Makayla grabbed a heavy stapler from the desk.
The door slammed open.
One of Selene’s men filled the frame.
Makayla threw the stapler.
It hit him in the forehead.
He yelled and charged.
Renzo slashed with the box cutter, catching the man across the arm. The man swung, knocking Renzo into the filing cabinet. Makayla ducked behind the desk as the second man appeared behind the first.
This was bad.
Very bad.
Makayla grabbed the beige phone and ripped it from the cord, swinging it like a weapon. It cracked against the first man’s temple. He stumbled, but the second one caught Makayla by the hair.
Pain burst across her scalp.
She screamed, more angry than afraid, and drove her elbow backward. He grunted but did not let go.
Then gunfire cracked outside.
One shot.
Then another.
The men froze.
So did Makayla.
A voice thundered through the warehouse.
“Makayla!”
Jarvis.
The hand in her hair loosened for half a second.
Makayla stomped backward onto the man’s foot and twisted away. She grabbed Renzo by the shirt and yanked him toward the floor as Jarvis and Trevon burst through the warehouse entrance with guards behind them.
Everything happened fast.
Too fast.
A guard tackled the first man near the office door.
Trevon slammed the second against the glass wall so hard it cracked.
Jarvis came straight for Makayla.
Not the men.
Not Renzo.
Her.
His face looked like something carved from rage.
“Are you hit?” he demanded.
Makayla shook her head. “No.”
His eyes moved over her torn sleeve, her scraped arm, her hair, her face. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Makayla.”
“I said no.”
The word came out sharper than she meant, because his fear was too much. Too visible. Too real.
She did not know what to do with it.
Jarvis looked like he wanted to touch her and shake her at the same time.
Instead, he turned to Renzo, who was trying to stand.
“What did you tell her?”
Renzo coughed. “Hello to you too.”
Jarvis stepped toward him.
Makayla grabbed Jarvis’s arm. “He helped.”
Jarvis looked down at her hand on his arm.
Then back at her face.
For one strange second, everything else faded. Broken glass. Guards. Selene’s men groaning on the floor. Renzo bleeding. Trevon barking orders.
Jarvis’s voice dropped. “You got out of the car.”
Makayla lifted her chin. “Selene came to me.”
“I told you to stay inside.”
“She had a jammer.”
“You opened the door.”
“She threatened Amira.”
His face tightened.
Makayla stepped closer, lowering her voice. “And if I hadn’t come in here, Renzo would be dead, and we wouldn’t have this.”
She pulled the folder from under her jacket and shoved it against his chest.
Jarvis took it, still staring at her.
Trevon walked over, breathing hard. “Selene’s gone.”
Makayla looked toward the warehouse entrance. “Of course she is.”
Jarvis opened the folder.
His body went still when he saw the photo.
Makayla watched him carefully.
“Maribelle Dane,” she said.
Jarvis did not answer.
Renzo leaned against the desk. “I told her I saw Maribelle alive with Calia after everybody said she vanished.”
Jarvis’s eyes lifted.
Renzo swallowed. “I didn’t know what it meant then.”
Jarvis looked back at the photo.
Makayla could see something behind his eyes now. Not guilt exactly. Pain, maybe. Old and tightly locked.
“Who is she?” Makayla asked.
Jarvis did not answer fast enough.
She hated that.
“Jarvis.”
His jaw flexed. “Maribelle worked in my father’s club.”
“And?”
“And she gave me proof against him.”
Makayla waited.
Jarvis’s voice hardened. “Proof I used to take everything from him.”
The warehouse seemed to quiet around them.
Makayla stepped closer. “What happened to her?”
Jarvis held the folder too tightly. “She disappeared before she could testify.”
“Did you help her disappear?”
His eyes met hers.
“Yes.”
The word hit the room hard.
Makayla’s stomach dropped.
Renzo muttered, “Oh, hell.”
Jarvis looked at her, voice low. “Not the way Selene made it sound.”
Makayla forced herself not to step back. “Then tell it right.”
Before Jarvis could answer, one of the guards called from the warehouse entrance. “Boss! Police scanner just picked up a call. Anonymous tip reporting shots fired and a hostage situation at this location.”
Trevon cursed. “Selene called it in.”
Makayla’s eyes widened. “To make it look like Jarvis grabbed Renzo?”
Jarvis looked toward the men on the floor, the broken office, the flash of weapons under jackets, the mess around them.
“She’s staging the scene,” he said.
Trevon moved fast. “We need to clear out or own the narrative now.”
Makayla’s mind snapped into place.
Own the narrative.
That was the game.
Selene kept winning because she told the story first.
Makayla looked at Jarvis. “Give me your phone.”
“No.”
“Jarvis, give me the phone.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Because Selene wants a statement. Let’s give her one.”
Trevon looked between them. “Makayla…”
She turned to Renzo. “Can you talk on camera?”
Renzo wiped blood from his lip. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not if you want to stay useful.”
He laughed weakly. “I liked you better online.”
Jarvis handed Makayla his phone.
She opened the camera and turned it to selfie mode, framing herself, Jarvis behind her, Renzo visible, the warehouse clear enough to show location but not enough to expose anything sensitive.
Jarvis stepped closer. “Be careful.”
Makayla glanced at him. “That’s the first smart thing you said all day.”
Then she started recording.
Her face filled the screen.
Hair loosened.
Sleeve torn.
Eyes bright with fire.
“Morrow Bay,” she said, voice steady. “This is Makayla Serrin. Yes, I run Dirty Little Proof. Since people want my name so badly, let me give it to you myself.”
Jarvis went still behind her.
Trevon looked up sharply.
Makayla kept going.
“Last night, I posted evidence about Jarvis Draven that I later found had been planted. I removed it and corrected it publicly. Today, the people behind that setup tried to force me into recording a fake confession saying I was paid, bought, and working for Jarvis. That is a lie.”
She turned the camera slightly toward Renzo.
“This is Renzo Kitt. He fed tips through my page. He has admitted those tips came through money connected to attorney Selene Rusk.”
Renzo blinked. “I admitted—”
Makayla cut him a look over the phone.
Renzo cleared his throat. “Yeah. That’s true. Selene Rusk paid through a law office account. Calia Morvant was used as cover. I helped pass the fake Jarvis folder. I did it for money. I did not know they were going after Makayla’s family until it got too deep.”
Makayla turned the camera back to herself.
“Selene Rusk has old case files tied to my sister, Amira Serrin. She has been holding evidence from a case her office helped bury years ago. If any edited video of my sister appears online, know this: it was released by people who profit from hurting women twice.”
Her voice shook on that last part.
Only a little.
Jarvis stepped closer beside her.
Makayla felt him there.
This time, she did not move away.
She looked into the camera.
“They wanted to make me look dirty. Fine. Let’s talk dirty.
Let’s talk about lawyers who hide evidence.
Promoters who sell access. Businesswomen who let themselves be used as bait.
Powerful men who count on shame to silence the women they harm.
And let’s talk about me too, because I made a mistake.
I posted too fast. I let pain make me careless. I own that.”
Her throat tightened.
She pushed through.
“But I am not owned. I am not paid. I am not hiding anymore.”
Sirens wailed faintly in the distance.
Trevon looked toward the entrance. “Wrap it.”
Makayla finished with her eyes locked on the screen.
“Selene Rusk, since you wanted a statement, here it is: you had years to keep your hands clean. Now everybody gets to see where you put them.”
She stopped recording.
The warehouse held still.
Even Renzo seemed stunned.
Jarvis stared at Makayla like she had just set fire to the sky.
Trevon said, “That was either brilliant or extremely dangerous.”
Makayla handed Jarvis his phone. “Post it.”
Jarvis looked at the screen. “You sure?”
“No.”
He studied her face.
“Post it anyway,” she said.
Jarvis sent the video to Trevon. Trevon uploaded it through a secure channel, then to Dirty Little Proof, Jarvis’s business account, and three trusted media contacts at once.
Sirens grew louder.
Jarvis moved. “Now we leave.”
Trevon pointed to Renzo. “He comes with us.”
Renzo groaned. “I knew y’all were gonna say that.”
Makayla grabbed the Maribelle folder from Jarvis. “This comes too.”
Jarvis looked at her but did not argue.
They moved fast through the rear of the warehouse. Guards dragged Selene’s men out another way, not gently. Renzo limped between Trevon and one guard, complaining under his breath the entire time.
Makayla followed Jarvis toward a back exit that opened near the water.
The sky had turned darker.
The river slapped against the dock pilings like it was angry too.
Before they reached the second SUV waiting near a loading bay, Makayla’s phone exploded with notifications.
The video was live.
Comments flooded in.
SHE SAID HER NAME.Wait Selene Rusk?? Attorney Selene??Renzo looks beat up fr.DLP owned it. Respect.Where is Amira? Protect that woman.Jarvis standing behind her like that???This is bigger than gossip.Calia bait?? What does that mean?
Makayla did not have time to read more.
Jarvis took her arm gently and helped her into the SUV before she could argue. This time, she let him.
Maybe because her ankle hurt.
Maybe because she was tired.
Maybe because the world had shifted so many times in two days that refusing a hand felt like wasting energy.
Jarvis got in beside her.
The SUV pulled away just as police cars turned onto the far end of the dock street.
Nobody spoke until the warehouse disappeared behind them.
Then Jarvis said, “You gave your name.”
Makayla stared at her phone. “They already had it.”
“You gave it to the city.”
“I took it back from Selene.”
Jarvis looked at her like he understood that too well.
Makayla looked up. “Now tell me about Maribelle.”