Chapter Twenty-four
Kade
My office felt too small as I paced behind my desk, hands fisted.
The city sprawled beyond my windows, lights dancing like fireflies in the night.
Somewhere down there, five members of Jasmine's old pack were positioning themselves around my building, around my home, around the woman I'd promised to protect.
The fury that burned in my chest wanted immediate action, wanted me to go down there and handle this with fists and threats.
But I'd learned years ago that rage without strategy was just idiotic.
I needed to be smart about this. Calculated. Precise.
The knock at my door came exactly ten minutes after I'd left Theo. I called for him to enter, and he filled the doorway with his broad frame, his expression grim.
“Lucian's on his way up,” he said, moving to stand near the windows. “I've already sent orders down to security. Double shifts start tonight, with additional personnel on the overnight rotation.”
“Good.” I stopped pacing, forced myself to lean against my desk with a casualness I didn't feel.
My hands gripped the edge of the wood, knuckles whitening.
“I want background checks on every service worker, every delivery person, everyone who has building access.
If they're not on the permanent approved list, they don't get in.”
“Already in motion.” Theo crossed his arms, his dark eyes tracking my movements. “I've also contacted the security company we use for events. They can have additional personnel here within two hours if we need them.”
“Do it.” The words came out sharper than I'd intended, but Theo just nodded, understanding the fury underneath. “I want eyes on every entrance, every floor. If someone so much as breathes wrong near this building, I want to know about it.”
Another knock, and Lucian slipped through the door. His face was drawn, worry furrowing his brow. He moved to the chair near my desk but didn't sit; instead, he braced his hands on the back of it.
“Theo briefed me on the basics,” Lucian said, his voice tight. “How many?”
“Five that we've identified,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket and bringing up the images Theo had sent me.
I passed the phone to Lucian, watched his face harden as he scrolled through each photo.
“Could be more. They've been conducting surveillance since at least noon today, probably longer.”
Lucian's jaw clenched. “They know she's here.”
“Yes.” The single word tasted like ash. I'd promised Jasmine safety, and now her nightmares were literally watching our building. “The question is what they're planning to do about it.”
“We could grab one of them,” Lucian said, handing my phone back. “Bring them in quietly, and have a conversation about why watching our building is a bad idea.”
I considered it. The appeal was immediate, but it was reactive, emotional. Not strategic.
“Not yet,” I said, pushing off from the desk and moving to the windows.
The city spread out below me, and I tracked the angles, trying to see where the watchers would be positioned.
“We need to understand what they're planning first. Grabbing one of them tips our hand, lets them know we're aware of the surveillance.”
“They have to assume we'll notice,” Theo said, his voice a low rumble. “Five people watching a building this aggressively? They're not trying to be subtle.”
“Exactly.” I turned back to face them, my mind working through the possibilities. “So, either they want us to know they're there, or they don't care. Both options suggest they're confident about whatever they're planning.”
Lucian shifted his weight, his hands tightening on the chair back. “So, we watch them watching us.”
“We watch them,” I confirmed. “Covert observation. I want to know where they go when they leave here, where they're staying, and who else is with them. Every detail we can gather.”
“I can arrange that,” Lucian said, already pulling out his phone. “I know people who specialize in this kind of thing. Discreet, professional. They'll never know they're being followed.”
“Do it.” I moved back behind my desk, needing the solid wood between me and the violence I wanted to commit. “And pull everything you can on Bane's pack. Financial records, property holdings, legal issues. Anything that might give us leverage.”
Theo stepped forward, his posture aggressive despite his controlled tone. “We should confront them. Make it clear that coming near her again is a death sentence.”
The bluntness of it should have surprised me, but it didn't. Theo's protective instincts had always run toward direct action, toward putting his body between threats and what he cared about. It was effective, usually. But not always smart.
“And if we confront them and they escalate?” I asked, keeping my voice reasonable even though I wanted the same thing he did. “If they decide to move up whatever timeline they're working on? If they try to grab her before we're ready?”
Theo's jaw worked, but he didn't answer.
“We need information first,” I continued, gentler now. “Once we know what they're planning, understand the full scope, then we can act. Decisively. Permanently.”
The word hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. Lucian's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't object. Theo's expression shifted from frustrated to grimly satisfied.
“Permanently,” Theo repeated, and it sounded like a promise.
I nodded and then turned my attention back to the immediate concerns. “Until we have that information, we go into full protection mode. Jasmine doesn't go anywhere alone. Not to the studio, not to the lobby, nowhere. One of us is with her at all times.”
“She's not going to like that,” Lucian observed.
“I don't care.” The words came out harder than I'd intended, but I didn't soften them. “Her comfort is less important than her safety right now. We can deal with her feeling trapped after we've eliminated the threat.”
Both of them nodded, understanding. This wasn't about making Jasmine happy. This was about keeping her alive.
I walked around my desk, leaning against the front edge, and looked at both of them. My pack. The men I'd trust with my life, with everything that mattered. “We protect what's ours,” I breathed. “Whatever it takes.”
“Whatever it takes,” Theo echoed, and Lucian murmured his agreement.
The moment settled over us, a pact sealed in shared fury and protective instinct. Then I straightened, reaching for my phone again, and pulled up a contact I hadn't called in over a year.
“I need to make some calls,” I said, my voice dropping to something colder. “Pinpoint who we're dealing with and what leverage we can use against them.”
Lucian and Theo exchanged a look, and something passed between them.
Recognition maybe, of what I was about to do.
They'd seen me like this before, seen me pull strings and apply pressure in ways that made problems disappear.
But never for something this personal. Never with this much fury driving me.
“We'll coordinate the security details,” Lucian said, moving toward the door. “And start the background surveillance.”
They left, and I was alone with my rage and my phone and the city sprawling below.
I dialed a number from memory, held the phone to my ear, and waited through two rings before a voice answered. Male, cautious, with an edge that suggested he knew better than to answer calls from unknown numbers.
“I need information,” I said, not bothering with pleasantries. “On a pack operating in the lower district. Alpha named Bane.”
Silence, then: “That kind of information costs.”
“Name your price.”
More silence, longer this time. I could almost hear him calculating, weighing the request against whatever price he was considering. Finally: “What kind of information?”
“Everything.” I turned back to the windows, looking down at the city where Jasmine's hunters waited. “Names, addresses, financial vulnerabilities, legal exposure. Anything I can use to make them disappear.”
The pause that followed was longer, weighted with understanding. “You want ammunition.”
“I want a fucking arsenal,” I said, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. The fury I'd been controlling bled through now, making my words sharp as knives. “And I want it fast. Forty-eight hours.”
“That's not much time—”
“Then you'd better start working.” I named a figure that made him inhale sharply, more money than most people saw in a year.
“Half now, half on delivery. And if I find out you've talked to anyone about this, if word gets back to them that someone's been asking questions, the price you'll pay won't be financial.”
The threat landed with satisfying weight. I heard him swallow, recalibrating his understanding of who he was dealing with.
“Forty-eight hours,” he agreed. “You'll have everything.”
I ended the call without saying goodbye, already dialing the next number. This one rang longer, four times before a woman's voice answered, professional and slightly annoyed at the late hour.
“I need a lawyer,” I said. “The kind who specializes in making people disappear. Legally, preferably. But I'm flexible on the methods.”
Her tone shifted, annoyance replaced by interest. “Go on.”
I outlined what I needed—ways to destroy Bane's pack from the inside, legal vulnerabilities we could exploit, pressure points that would make fighting back impossible. She listened without interrupting, and I could hear her taking notes, the scratch of pen on paper carrying through the phone.
“It's doable,” she said when I finished. “But it'll take resources. Money, time, connections.”
“You'll have whatever you need.” I named another figure, watched the city lights blur as my grip on the phone tightened. “Just make it hurt.”
“Personal?” she asked, and there was no judgment in the question, just professional curiosity.
“Extremely.”
“Then we'll make it hurt.” A pause, then: “You should know, going after a pack this aggressively... There will be consequences. Other packs will notice. Questions will be asked.”
“Let them ask.” I turned away from the window, and moved back behind my desk, where I could see the security monitor I'd had installed last year.
The one that showed the penthouse entrance, and where Jasmine was sleeping, unaware of the threats gathering around her.
“Anyone who has a problem with how I protect what's mine can get in line behind the ones who are already in my way.”
The steel in my voice must have convinced her, because she just murmured her agreement and ended the call with a promise to start working immediately.
I stood there in my office, phone still in my hand, and felt the icy fury settle over me. This was what I was good at. Not the direct violence Theo specialized in, but the systematic destruction of obstacles. The careful application of pressure until something broke.
Bane's pack had made a mistake coming here. Had made a mistake thinking they could intimidate us, could take back what they'd thrown away when they'd beaten Jasmine and driven her onto the streets.
She was ours now. Under our protection. Part of our pack. I placed the phone down and looked out at the city. I would make sure they understood it. Would make sure everyone understood it.
Whatever it took.