Page 35 of Saint's Preciosa
I check my watch—11:17. The deadline has passed. My heart stops for a beat, then restarts at double speed. Luna's been gone for an hour, maybe more. She's already at the pier. Or she was. Kovalev has her.
"Explosives," I say, the single word coming out like a death knell. "Cipher!"
"Already on it," Ghost says, materializing beside me, his phone already at his ear. "Cipher, sweep the entire compound. Full spectrum. Now."
My hand moves to the gun beneath my cut, the reassuring weight of steel against my palm. "I'm going to fucking gut you," I tell Cherry with icy calm. Her face goes pale at my tone, the absolute certainty in my voice.
"I didn't mean for—" she starts, panic making her voice shrill.
"If anything happens to her, anything at all, I will personally peel your skin from your body one inch at a time," I promise, my voice still unnaturally calm. "Do you understand me?"
Cherry collapses to her knees, genuine sobs wracking her body. "It was just supposed to get her away from you," she cries. "Just scare her a little. I didn't think they'd actually hurt her!"
"What are you talking about?" Angel demands.
“Ivan and Krystal,” Cherry confesses between sobs. “They said if I helped get Luna away from the club, they’d… take care of me. Set me up somewhere nice. Said you didn't appreciate me, didn't treat me how I deserved after all these years." She looks up at me, mascara streaking down her face. "He said they were just going to scare her, that's all. He promised!"
Ivan Kovalev. She’s talking about Ivan Kovalev and Krystal, the club whore who Ghost tossed out on her ass after she fucked with Angel. Understanding clicks into place. Cherry didn't receive a note under her door. She crafted it.
Ghost's voice is dangerously quiet. "You've been working with Kovalev.” It’s a statement, not a question.
In the space of a heartbeat, everything shifts into focus. The information leaks. The operations that went sideways. It was her. She's been our rat all along.
"VP," Hawk's voice is tight with controlled tension as he returns to the main area. "We just heard from Cipher. This fucking place is clean. No explosives."
It was all a lie. A trick to get Luna away from our protection and into their hands.
I turn from Cherry, unable to look at her another second without putting a bullet between her eyes. "Don't let this bitch leave. I'll deal with her when I get back."
"Wait!" Cherry wails. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. Ivan told me?—"
"I don't give a fuck what he told you," I snarl, whirling back to face her. The rage inside me is a living thing, clawing at my insides, demanding release. "Kovalev doesn't play games, you stupid bitch. He moves product. Luna isn't a person to him, she's merchandise."
The blood drains from Cherry's face. "I didn't know... I swear I didn't?—"
"You signed her death warrant because you couldn't stand that Saint chose her over you." Angel is livid, her small body vibrating with fury.
“We’ll take care of her," Ghost says, his voice hard. "Angel, get Abuela. Keep her calm. The rest of you—gear up. Five minutes."
These bastards took my woman. My Luna. The rage inside me is so complete, so all-consuming, I can barely think through it. But cold, tactical precision has always been my strong suit—especially when lives are on the line.
I stalk toward the armory, brothers following in my wake. Weapons are distributed with ruthless efficiency—guns, knives, body armor. This is war.
"Cipher, talk to me." I press my earpiece more firmly in place, checking the magazine in my Glock.
"Pulling up surveillance around Pier 17." His voice is tense but controlled in my ear. "Cameras on the pier itself have been disabled. But I'm scanning surrounding buildings. Stand by... Got something. Black SUV pulled in at 10:53. Three men got out. One remained with the vehicle. The others moved toward the pier."
"And Luna?" My voice nearly breaks on her name.
A pause. "I see a small figure approach on foot at 10:58. Female, matches Luna's description. She walks to the end of the pier. At 11:04, she appears to collapse."
My heart stutters, my hand tightening around my gun until my knuckles turn white. "Collapsed how?"
"Looks like... someone approached from behind. Possible blow to the head. A man carries her to the SUV. They drive east at 11:09."
Alive. I pray to god she’s still alive.
"Direction? Destination?"
