The day passes in a blur of concrete silence and burning blood beneath my skin.
The SUV rattles as I drive too fast down the winding single-lane road toward the estate. Trees blur past like shadows trying to catch us. The sun is dying behind the clouds, washing everything in gray.
Phoenix sits beside me, calm as ever, like we didn't just walk into a trap.
That warehouse Wolfe sent us to?
Fucking empty.
Not abandoned — cleansed. No drugs, no bodies, no paper trail. Just the faintest scent of bleach and rotting lies.
And then, on the back wall...
Spray-painted in red.
Still dripping.
VIPER.
I haven't unclenched my jaw since we left.
My hands tighten on the wheel, skin pulling tight over my knuckles. "This is personal now," I say quietly, my voice slicing through the tense silence like a blade.
Phoenix doesn't speak right away. He never does. Always makes you wonder if he heard you — or if he's already ten steps ahead, solving the puzzle alone like he always does.
I swallow and press on. "Before? I thought Robin was collateral. Maybe wrong place, wrong time. But this—" I glance at him. "That tag was a message."
He turns his head toward me, slow and deliberate. "It wasn't random," he agrees. "It was signed."
I laugh, but it sounds like something broken. "You think the fucker's taunting us?"
"No," he says. "He's testing us. Seeing how far we'll go."
I look away, stare at the road. "He wants a war. He's going to get one."
For a while, all you can hear is the tires on the asphalt and my shallow breathing.
Then Phoenix speaks again, softer this time — like he's not just talking about the Viper anymore. "You're holding it in too tightly, Raven."
I don't look at him. "What choice do I have?"
"You let it fester like this, it'll rot you from the inside."
I clench my jaw harder. "It already is."
He turns back toward the windshield, but I see the way his jaw ticks. It's the only tell he ever gives when he's worried.
"Robin trusted the wrong people," I murmur. "I vouched for him. I told Father to let him go."
Phoenix's voice is quiet. "And he left."
"Because of me."
He doesn't answer that. He doesn't have to.
A silence stretches out between us, long and sharp.
Eventually, I break it. "We'll tell the others what we found. But if we can... no killing unless necessary. The Council called. They're breathing down our necks, asking us to 'keep it quiet.'"
Phoenix smirks without humor. "Good luck telling Crow."
I scoff. "And Sparrow."
"I'll handle them."
His tone is final, but I still shoot him a look.
"You always say that," I murmur.
"I always do it," he replies.
That silences me. Because he's right.
Whatever else Phoenix is — cold, calculating, maybe even a little cruel — he always carries the weight when no one else will. Even when it breaks him.
The estate comes into view, nestled in the valley like a sleeping animal. But the moment we pull in, the peace shatters.
Crow's already in the driveway, loading up gear like we're heading to war — which, let's be honest, we are.
Guns. Knives. Vests. Rounds lined up like jewelry across the pavement.
He's already got his vest on. His sleeves are rolled up, showcasing veins like vines beneath his skin. His hair is slicked back, mouth in a grim line. He's a portrait of war.
Phoenix gets out. So do I.
Crow doesn't look at us. Just keeps working.
"We set?" Phoenix asks.
Crow grunts. "Van's ready. Dove's got the rest inside."
Phoenix nods once and heads toward the house without another word.
I go to follow, but Crow's hand snaps out and grabs my arm. Hard.
He yanks me back, fury simmering in his stare.
"Where the fuck did you and Phoenix go this morning?"
I don't blink. I lean in close, my voice sharp enough to draw blood. "If Phoenix wanted you to know..." I let it hang. "You'd know."
His grip tightens, fingers digging into bone. "Don't play that card with me."
"You want to hit me, Crow? Go on." I jerk forward so we're nearly nose-to-nose. "But make sure I stay down. Because if I get back up, I'm cutting your fucking throat."
His nostrils flare. I think he might do it.
Then: "Raven?" Dove's voice.
She's walking down from the porch, eyes narrowed at Crow's hand on my arm.
"Is there a reason you're grabbing her like that?"
Crow doesn't let go immediately. His gaze stays on mine a second longer before he finally shoves me back.
"Yeah. We're fine. Aren't we, Raven?"
My eyes burn into his. My voice is ice.
"Perfect."
I walk past him, past Dove, toward the house. The front door groans as I push it open, but I pause inside when I hear them behind me.
"You need to stop blaming her," Dove says, her voice calm but laced with steel. "Robin's death isn't on Raven."
Crow scoffs. "Save the sermon."
A beat of silence.
Then Dove, quieter. "She's the one who found the body, Crow. Did you forget that?"
Silence. Then something soft, almost too low to hear:
"Out of all of us... she's the only one who didn't cry."
I grip the doorknob tighter.
You can only cry when you have something left to feel.
And whatever I had?
It's buried with Robin.
The air in the war room feels heavier than usual. Weapons laid out like a feast for the damned, black gear gleaming under fluorescent light, vests hung like skin waiting for bodies.
We're all here.
Sparrow sits cross-legged on the floor, sharpening her twin daggers with calm, rhythmic strokes. Dove stands behind her, tapping at her tablet, cross-checking the club's schematics. Phoenix moves between us like a general on the eve of a battle, checking ammo clips, vests, gear.
And then there's Crow.
He's pacing—restless, wild energy leaking from his pores. He hasn't stopped twitching since we stepped in here, his eyes darting to the door every few seconds.
Because of her.
Wolfe's daughter.
She's tied to the metal chair in the corner of the room, arms behind her back, duct tape still over her mouth. Her wrists are red and raw. Hair matted to her face. Crow's version of hospitality.
"What the hell is she still doing here?" I ask quietly, strapping a blade to my thigh.
"She's leverage," Crow mutters.
"She's a liability," Phoenix corrects without even looking up.
Crow ignores both of us and stalks toward the girl. He rips the tape off her mouth in one fluid move.
She gasps, then spits at him.
Crow grins. "Feisty."
"Fuck you," she growls, eyes blazing. "You killed my father."
"No," Crow says with a smile. "Your father killed himself the second he got involved with The Viper."
"You're monsters," she hisses.
Crow crouches in front of her. "No, sweetheart. We're what monsters are afraid of."
She looks like she wants to claw his eyes out. I almost admire her for that.
Phoenix steps between them. "Enough. We have a job to do. We're already pushing it by keeping her here."
"She's seen too much," Sparrow says casually, still sharpening her blade.
"I'll take her to the basement," Crow offers, too eagerly.
"Make sure she doesn't make a sound," Phoenix warns.
Crow grabs the girl by the arm and hauls her up. She kicks, struggles, but he's stronger. He drags her out of the room like she weighs nothing.
"I'll scream!" she yells. "I'll tell the world who you are!"
Crow leans close, whispering something we can't hear. Whatever it is shuts her up instantly.
The door slams. Silence returns.
I slide my final blade into the sheath on my lower back.
"You ready?" Phoenix asks me.
I nod.
"You know what we're walking into?"
"Not a clue," I say. "But I'm done being patient."
Phoenix's eyes narrow slightly. "You don't let emotion lead tonight. No matter what Alejandro says, no matter what he knows, you play your part."
"I know," I whisper.
Dove shuts the tablet. "The club's perimeter has been changing. Extra guards, hidden cameras, even a few thermal readers. Someone's expecting company."
Sparrow finally stands, slipping her knives into her boots. "Then let's give them a fucking show."
Phoenix gives the nod.
We move like shadows, each one of us cloaked in black, armed to the teeth, silent, precise. The air outside is cool and sharp. Three SUVs idle in the driveway, engines rumbling like predators ready to pounce.
As I climb into the passenger seat beside Phoenix, I glance at the house.
Somewhere beneath it, Wolfe's daughter is screaming into soundproof darkness.
Crow checks the mag on his pistol one last time, eyes burning with excitement. His hands are twitching. Dove secures her final wire into the tablet, the glow of the screen lighting up her face in eerie blue. Sparrow's already cocked her weapon, blade strapped to her thigh in case things go quiet.
I'm strapping the vest tight across my chest when Phoenix steps into the van, dressed in black — no suit this time. Just matte combat gear, sleek and death-silent. The look in his eyes says this isn't just recon. This is personal.
"Are we ready?" he asks.
Dove responds without looking up. "Back entrances are blocked. Cameras disabled. Wi-Fi's fried. Cell signal's jammed within a five-meter radius. We have about twenty minutes until anyone notices the digital blackout."
"What about security?" I ask, pulling the AK across my chest and loading it with a swift click.
"Half are outside. Half inside. No kill orders unless they pull first," Phoenix says. "Crow. You disarm. Sparrow—injure if needed. But no full body drops until I say."
"Fucking hell," Crow mutters, snapping a blade into a sheath under his arm. "We're about to walk into the lion's den and you want a goddamn tea party?"
Phoenix's eyes darken. "You want vengeance, not chaos. Vengeance is strategic. Precise."
Crow spits on the ground near the van door. "Viper better pray we find him tonight. If I have to wait another week, I'm burning this whole fucking city."
Dove slams the back door shut, securing her own rifle. "That includes the club's liquor supply. You good with that?"
Crow grins like a madman. "Sober war is still war."
Phoenix steps out. "Masks on. Let's move."
We break out across the lot like wolves. Crow's in front, gun raised. He doesn't knock. He never knocks.
Bang. Bang.
Two sharp warning shots into the air as he throws the club doors open, smoke and red lights leaking into the street like hell's own breath.
"Everybody down, now!" he roars.
Screams erupt. Bodies scatter. Glass shatters. People scramble, heels skidding, faces drenched in terror. A few guards go for their weapons—mistake. Sparrow clips one in the shoulder without blinking. I aim high, ready for return fire, but none comes.
Inside, it smells like stale sweat, sex, and spilled vodka. Red lights pulse through haze. The bass thumps like a war drum in our chests.
We sweep in—formation tight. Crow and I at the point. Dove covering our rear. Phoenix strides behind us like the damn grim reaper.
We move through the club, past writhing bodies, overturned drinks, panicked staff. The corridor leading to the VIP lounge is already being cleared.
One man steps out of a back room, gun half-drawn. I don't hesitate—shoot him clean through the hand. He screams and drops to the ground.
Crow walks by, kicks the man's head into the wall so hard he slumps over unconscious. "Next."
We reach the final door. Phoenix gives a nod.
Crow kicks it open.
Inside, silence.
Four armed men. One at each corner. All guns trained.
And in the center... he sits.
Alejandro.
Reclined. Calm. Dressed in a black silk shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms. The tattoos winding up his arms look like serpents. A half-empty glass of bourbon rests in one hand. His smile is easy. Too easy.
No gun.
Just cold, unnerving composure.
"Drop your weapons," Crow growls, stepping inside with a predatory smirk. "Now."
The guards hesitate. Alejandro raises a finger.
All weapons lower.
But he doesn't take his eyes off me. Not once.
There's a heat that passes over my skin — not attraction. Recognition. The way he looks at me... like he's seen me before. Like he knows how this ends.
"You brought a fucking army," he says, voice smooth like poison dipped in honey. "You could've called ahead."
"Not my style," Phoenix says, entering behind us, unarmed, his expression ice. "Besides, wouldn't have answered."
Alejandro's eyes flick to him, and the smirk fades. "I take it you're Phoenix Black."
"And I take it you're Alejandro Vendetta," Phoenix replies, circling to the table like a wolf. "Club owner. Broker. Viper's shadow."
"You think I'm a middleman?" Alejandro leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Cute."
Crow hisses low. "I'm two seconds from turning you into art."
"You're always two seconds from something, aren't you, Crow?" Alejandro chuckles. "Unhinged little bastard."
Crow lunges.
Phoenix stops him with a single word.
"Don't."
Alejandro glances at me again. And this time... he speaks only to me.
"You look like him," he says quietly. "Your brother."
The world narrows. My finger tightens on the trigger.
"You knew Robin," I say, voice low.
"I knew of him," he replies. "He came poking around. Got too deep. Asked the wrong questions."
"So you put the hit on him," I whisper.
Alejandro's smile dies.
"No," he says. "But I didn't stop it either."
Before anyone can react, a guard twitches — reaching for something in his boot.
Crow fires.
The man's head snaps back, skull cracking into the wall, blood splashing in a wide arc.
Alejandro doesn't even flinch.
"I said no one dies," Phoenix growls.
"He moved," Crow says flatly. "You said if they moved, they die."
Phoenix rounds on Alejandro. "We want the Viper. You're going to give him to us."
Alejandro finally stands. Tall. Broad. Imposing.
"I can't give you what doesn't want to be found," he says. "The Viper moves when he wants. Kills when he wants. Appears... when it suits him."
Phoenix steps toe-to-toe with him.
"You'll make it suit him."
Alejandro smiles again, but this time... it's cold. Cruel.
"Fine," he says. "I'll set the bait."
Phoenix tilts his head. "What's the price?"
Alejandro turns... and looks directly at me.
Her.
"Raven stays with me."
Every gun in the room cocks in unison.
Phoenix doesn't blink. "You'll die before she does."
Alejandro shrugs. "Then we all die tonight."
Silence.
I feel my heart pounding. Alejandro's gaze doesn't waver. And I realize—this isn't about leverage.
It's about curiosity.
Obsession.
Something darker.
I raise my chin. "I'll stay."
Phoenix snaps his head toward me. "No."
"We need the Viper," I say. "And if I'm bait... so be it."
Crow snarls. "This is fucked."
Phoenix's jaw tightens. His hand trembles. But he nods once.
"Seventy-two hours," Phoenix says coldly. "You have seventy-two hours to bring me the Viper... or Raven will gut you slowly."
Alejandro bows slightly, never breaking eye contact with me. "That's all I'll need."
Then, with a flick of his hand, he speaks calmly to his men. "Leave us."
The guards hesitate.
"I said leave."
There's power in his voice — not loud, not cruel, but absolute. The kind of tone that doesn't invite defiance. One by one, his men shuffle out, dragging the wounded with them.
The door clicks shut.
And now it's just him, and us.
I can feel his eyes tracing me again, the way a predator studies something too beautiful to eat... but too tempting to leave alive.
Phoenix doesn't move. "We're done here."
Alejandro chuckles softly. "I don't think we are."
Phoenix steps forward, slow and precise. "You got your hours. Don't push it."
Alejandro's lips curl, all smooth malice. "I'll see her in the morning."
He doesn't say my name. Doesn't have to. We all know who he means.
Phoenix's hand tightens around the handle of his coat. I see it — the storm just barely held back.
But he doesn't swing.
He turns. So do the rest of us. And we walk.
.The air outside is sharp with midnight sweat, city noise pulsing distant heat.
The club door slams shut behind us.
The night air cuts like glass.
I suck in a breath, but it doesn't clear the heat sitting heavy in my chest. My heartbeat's still galloping from the inside out — not from fear, not exactly. From something worse.
Confusion.
Phoenix doesn't look at me. He's halfway to the van already, jaw tight, coat flapping behind him like a threat. Crow and Dove fall in behind him, silent and brooding. Sparrow stays close to me, brushing her fingers against my arm briefly before moving ahead.
I don't follow right away.
I glance back at the darkened club door.
He's still in there. Alejandro.
That snake of a man. All venom and silk.
And somehow... I'm still burning from the way he looked at me. Like he could peel back every layer I've spent my whole life burying. Like he wanted to.
Focus. I shove the thoughts down and jog to catch up with Phoenix.
By the time we're inside the van, I can't take it anymore.
"You used me," I snap.
He doesn't look up.
"I put you in the room."
"You made me the bait."
"I trusted you could handle it."
I glare at him, chest heaving. "You said he was dangerous. You knew he'd focus on me. And you still put me in that fucking room."
He finally turns.
"I also knew you'd hold his attention. Which bought me time to corner him. So yes, I used that. Just like I'd expect you to use me if it meant getting what we needed."
My jaw tightens.
"I'm not your pawn."
"No," he agrees. "You're my queen. And sometimes queens get blood on their hands too."
We sit in silence. Crow watches us both in the rearview, but wisely says nothing.
After a while, Phoenix leans forward, elbows on his knees.
"Get some rest, Raven. You'll be seeing him again in the morning."
I blink. "What?"
"He wants to meet. Just you and him."
I laugh bitterly. "Of course he does."
Phoenix nods once, voice flat. "At his estate. Sunrise."
"And you're letting me go alone?"
He looks at me then — really looks.
"I don't like it. But I know you. And I trust you to handle it. Besides..." His mouth curls into something unreadable. "You're the only one he'll talk to now."
I don't know if I should feel honored or hunted.
But I nod anyway.
"Fine."
I stare out the van window as the city swallows us whole. Alejandro's last words echo in my skull like a curse I didn't know I'd been marked with.
That's all I'll need.
God help him if he's wrong.
Because next time we meet — I won't just be watching him.
I'll be waiting to strike.