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I don't waste breath arguing. I pull back my left hand and drive a solid fist straight into his face. The loud, sickening crack of his nose shattering echoes across the quiet dock, and he lets out a high-pitched scream, thrashing against the rusted container wall.
"I'll ask one more time," I say.
He spits blood onto my cheek, his eyes wide with frantic rage. "Fuck off!"
I lift my hand, slide my thumb up to his eye socket, and press down hard right over his eyelid.
The man instantly shrieks, a raw, horrific sound of pure agony. The terror breaks him completely—a dark stain spreads rapidly across the front of his jeans as he pisses himself, his boots wildly scraping the wet concrete.
"Stop! Stop! Okay! Okay!" he howls, gasping violently for air the second I release the pressure. "It’s Brendan! Brendan’s been reaching out to all the old Devlin soldiers who walked away after the Moretti incident! And Lachlan’s been doing the heavy muscle, forcing the reluctant ones into line! They needed this shipment to pay off the outer commanders and lock down the alliance!"
I stare down into his terrified, sobbing face for a fraction of a second, absorbing every word. Then I raise my sidearm, press the barrel flush against his chest, and pull the trigger.
The muffled pop cuts off his gasps instantly, and his body slumps sideways onto the gravel. I step back, wiping his blood from my cheek with the back of my hand.
Levi stares down at the dead guard, then looks up at Ezekiel, his hands resting heavily on his belt. "Zeke, they're moving faster than we thought. We have to do something before they finish rounding up their old units."
Ezekiel slowly holsters his weapon, his dark eyes fixed on the warehouse down the strip as the fog settles over the docks. He gives a cold, calculated nod.
"Soon," Ezekiel says softly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. "When the time is right, we take the whole family down."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ALEXIS
“Thank you." I hand the cab driver his fare and hurry out of the backseat, my head down as I hustle up the walkway toward my front door, frantically fishing around in my bag for my keys.
I still have just enough time to take a quick shower and change before heading out to pick up Milly from the clinic, but my eyelids are so heavy I’m desperate for even just a twenty-minute nap. Time does nothing but fly these days, and every second feels precious.
My fingers finally lock around my key ring just as I reach the front porch. I step up to the door and go to slide the key into the deadbolt, only to pause. The lock is already disengaged.
Frowning, I reach out and gently twist the door handle. The latch clicks, and the door glides open smoothly without any resistance.
A cold, sharp spike of absolute fear grips my chest.
Milly hasn’t been home since early this morning, and I’ve been working at the Blackwood gala all evening. The door was locked tight when I left.
My heart starts hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I push the door open very slowly, stepping into the dim entryway while keeping my eyes wide, desperately scanning the living room space to figure out what could have been stolen.
Everything looks eerily intact. The TV is still mounted on the wall, the antique coffee table is untouched, and my laptop sits undisturbed on the side desk.
I set my bag down on the kitchen counter, my mind still spinning, and hurry down the narrow hallway straight into my bedroom. I rush over to the closet, dropping to my knees to check the hidden floor safe where I keep my emergency cash savings.
The lock is intact, and the safe hasn't been touched.
I frown in complete confusion, pushing myself back up to my feet. If it wasn't a robbery, then what the hell was someone doing in my home?
I turn around, scanning the bedroom—and my heart instantly drops into my stomach.
Resting right in the center of my neatly made bed is a massive gift box, wrapped in glossy paper and tied with a thick pink ribbon. My chest tightens, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin. My heart hammers violently against my ribs as I take a slow, trembling step toward the bed.
I reach out, my fingers shaking as I tug the pink ribbon loose and lift the lid. The second the top comes off, I spring backward, holding my breath in case it's a trap, a bomb, or something horrifying.
When nothing happens, I slowly creep closer and peek inside.
Lying in the box is an exquisite, ridiculously expensive designer dress, nestled alongside a velvet jewelry box containing a sparkling diamond necklace. Tucked right into the folds of the fabric is a small card.
I pick up the note, my hands trembling as I read the crisp handwriting:
