Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
LONDYN
The knock comes hard, too early. “Prez wants you both in his office,” Turbo calls through the door. “Now.”
Malcolm’s already up, pulling on his kutte. My stomach twists so tight it hurts. Whatever they found, it’s bad. I can feel it.
We step into Maverick’s office together. The air is wrong… thick, heavy, brothers standing around the room like they’re expecting some shit to pop off at any moment.
Maverick sits behind his desk, arms folded, jaw locked. Turbo’s got his laptop open, fingers drumming with that restless, dangerous energy.
Maverick jerks his chin at Turbo. “Tell her.”
Turbo turns the screen toward me. “Your captain, Herrera… he’s not just a cop. He’s blood. Brother to Emilio Herrera… the man running the Mendaro Syndicate.”
The floor drops out from under me.
“No…” My voice cracks, the word barely making it out. “That can’t be right.”
Turbo doesn’t soften the blow… not even a little. “Family doesn’t make somebody clean, Londyn. I traced cash, hundreds of thousands of dollars, moving through shell accounts tied to him. Phone records. Meetings, too. He’s been coordinating with cartel lieutenants for months.”
My chest squeezes so tight I can’t pull in air. “And Tony?”
Turbo hesitates. That’s worse than any answer.
His eyes flick up sharp. “Tony’s worse. He’s not just your partner.
He’s Emilio’s nephew and a lieutenant in the Syndicate.
He’s been feeding intel straight from your precinct.
Every raid, every lead… they knew before you did.
And… he’s the one who tipped them off that Ty was working with the DEA and FBI. ”
I feel the floor tilt under me, grabbing the back of a chair to steady myself.
“He… what?” My throat closes. “Ty trusted him. I trusted him. I…”
Turbo’s eyes meet mine… no pity, just truth. “They knew every move Ty made. Every meeting. Every call. When he started feeding the Feds intel, they found out within hours. And once the Syndicate realized he was snitching? They put a target on your whole family. It was just a matter of time.”
Something in me tears open… rage, grief, betrayal… sharp enough to hurt.
Maverick leans forward, voice hard. “That’s the lesson. People are capable of anything. Doesn’t matter how close they are, how much you think you know them. Money, blood, power… it changes everything.”
I choke on a breath, vision blurring. “All this time… I thought my precinct had my back, thought they had my brother’s back. I thought they cared about me.”
Malcolm’s hand closes around mine, strong and steady. “They used you, Lolo. But you’re not alone in this anymore.”
“They walked you right to the edge and planned to push. You were never safe with them,” Turbo says with a slight edge to his voice.
Maverick’s eyes lock on me… hard, unwavering. “You wanted the truth. That’s the truth. Now I need to know if you’re gonna stand up… or fall apart?”
I swallow hard, steel sliding into my voice even as my heart breaks.
The tears are still burning, but the shaking stops. What rises in me isn’t fear, it’s fire.
I straighten, jaw set.
“My family didn’t die for nothing. They betrayed me and used me.”
The room holds its breath.
“I’m going to burn them down. Every last one of them, and anyone who helped them? They go down too.”
The room goes dead quiet. My words hang there like a promise
Then Maverick nods once, like he just witnessed something settle into place inside me.
“Good,” he says.
“Because war’s coming.”
They killed my family without a second thought. Tony’s sat at my parents’ table… Sunday dinners, holidays… all of it. And the whole damn time, they were playing me.
Turbo turns the laptop back toward himself, jaw tight as his fingers fly across the keys. “We’ve got enough to bury Herrera and Tony six feet under if we play it clean. But if we move sloppy, they’ll smell it. And the Syndicate doesn’t do warnings, they do bodies.”
A cold knot twists in my gut. “So what’s the plan?”
Maverick’s stare cuts to me, razor-sharp.
“First thing… you stay hidden. No contact with your precinct. No calls, no texts, no fucking breadcrumbs. You’re a ghost until I say different.
If Herrera or Tony think you’re still in play, they’ll keep their guard down.
“If they get even a whiff that you’re onto them, they’ll tap every Syndicate contact they’ve got to hunt you down and finish what they started with your family. ”
I swallow hard, the reality sinking in. “And you?”
He smirks… cold, humorless. “We dig. Turbo keeps ripping through their financials and comms until we find the vein that makes them bleed. Every cartel’s got a pressure point. We find it, we crush it.
Malcolm’s voice rumbles beside me. “And when we hit, we hit like a sledgehammer. No second chances.”
Maverick nods. “Damn right. But hear me, Londyn… once we move, there’s no walking this back. You’ll have a mark on your head. The Mendaros don’t forget or forgive.”
The words slice deep, but there’s no fear left in me… just rage, loss, and a fire I didn’t have a week ago. “I’ve already had everything taken from me. There’s nothing left for them to threaten.”
Maverick leans forward, eyes locked on mine, voice low and final. “Then saddle up, sweetheart. We’re going to burn these fuckers to the ground.”
On that note, the meeting ends, Maverick’s words still ringing in my head… war’s coming. Malcolm squeezes my hand once before letting go.
“Go on. Get some air while we work some of this shit out,” he says, brushing his lips against mine. Quick, rough, distracting as hell.
“Way to make this even more complicated, Night,” Mav calls out, shaking his head like he’s already over us both.
To irritate him further, Malcolm smacks my ass as I turn to leave, a sharp crack that startles a laugh out of me… small, but real. It barely lasts a second.
Because the second I step out of that office, everything hits me again. Hard.
Turbo’s revelations keep looping in my head. Herrera tied by blood to the Syndicate. Tony tied by blood and feeding them intel. Every step I took watched, and handed over.
My partner.
My captain.
People who I thought were family.
Playing my ass like a damn fiddle, and I never saw it. I’m a fucking detective, and this shit slid right over my head.
My whole damn world, once again, flipped inside out in one morning.
I’m halfway down the hall when I collide with someone. She steadies me with a hand on my arm.
“Sorry,” I mutter, pulling back.
She smiles, soft but confident. Long dark hair falls in waves over her shoulders, hazel eyes sharp and mysterious. Petite frame, curves that make her look both delicate and dangerous. She’s stunning. The kind of beauty who turns heads without trying.
“I’m Lisa,” she says, voice warm. “Steel’s ol’ lady.”
Malcolm gave me the rundown on a few of the brothers. Some of these psychos are actually married. Steel’s the one who surprised me the most. Hard-assed, mean-mugged son of a bitch… and somehow this spitfire’s got a leash on him.
She studies me for a beat. “My husband told me what happened to your family. I’m so sorry, Londyn.”
The words sting, but they land gentle. I nod. “Thank you.”
For a moment, we just stand there, two women from opposite worlds.
She tilts her head toward the kitchen. “Come on. You look like you could use some coffee.”
I follow her in. The clubhouse kitchen smells like strong brew and cinnamon. Lisa pulls a couple of mugs down, pouring dark coffee into both. She slides one across the counter to me, while taking a sip of her own.
Wrapping my hands around my cup, I let the heat ground me.
“It’s ironic, isn’t it? I spent my career chasing men like your husband.
Building cases against clubs like this one.
And now… here I am. Under your protection.
Counting on the Royal Bastards to help me take down the people who killed my family. ”
Lisa leans against the counter, mug in hand, hazel eyes steady on me. “Life flips the script sometimes. Doesn’t matter what side you were on before. What matters is who’s standing with you now.”
I take a sip of my brew, and let her words sink in.
“You don’t have to carry this alone,” she continues. “There are other women here.. old ladies, hang-arounds, sisters. They know what it’s like to live in this world. I can introduce you, if you want. Might help to have people who understand.”
I nod slowly, fingers tight around the mug. “I don’t know if I fit here.”
She gives me a small smile. “None of us thought we did at first. But you’ll see. This place… it’s family. Messy, loud, and dangerous… but we’re family and we’re loyal. And right now, you need that more than anything.”
Her words settle in me, heavy but true. For the first time since the massacre, I feel something close to belonging.
I thank her quietly, and she pats my arm before moving toward the door. “I’ll come get you later. We’ll meet with the others.”
When she’s gone, I sit alone in the kitchen, staring into the dark swirl of my coffee. The Bastards are criminals, outlaws, men I once swore to take down. And now they’re the ones standing between me and the cartel.
It’s twisted. It’s ironic. But it’s also the only chance I’ve got.
I inhale deep, the bitterness in my chest hardening into resolve.
They killed the only family I have. They think I’ll stay broken.
But I’m still here. And I’ll make damn sure they pay.