“Ezra…” I start, but my voice falters. There’s too much to say, too much I don’t have the strength to put into words.
“Rest,” he says softly, his fingers curling gently around mine. “We’ll talk when you’re feeling up to it.”
The warmth of his touch and the scent of him surrounding me pull me under again, this time into a sleep that feels safe, protected.
22
THIS IS WHAT I’VE BEEN WORKING TOWARD
EZRA
The room isdim except for the soft glow of the TV, its muted light flickering across Kruz’s face. She sits propped up in my bed, cocooned in blankets, her posture more relaxed than it’s been in days. The pallor in her cheeks is still there, but color is beginning to return. She’s healing. Slowly, but she’s healing.
I glance at her from where I stand, remote in hand, before turning up the volume.
“You need to see this,” I say, my voice even but edged with something heavier. Something final. She notices.
She frowns, her gaze flickering to the screen just as the news anchor’s voice fills the room, detailing the fallout of the events I set into motion before taking her to Seagrove.
“…a violent standoff last night between law enforcement and several high-ranking members of what authorities are calling a dangerous criminal syndicate. Multiple fatalities have been reported, with others taken into custody. Among those confirmed dead are several prominent figures connected to illegal activities spanning drug trafficking, money laundering, and organized violence…”
Kruz’s eyes widen as the footage cuts to shaky helicopter shots of the standoff. The scene is chaos—SWAT vans are parked in a jagged line, red and blue lights flashing in the dark, officers moving in tight formations. Bodies covered with tarps, the ground beneath them dark and wet.
Good fucking riddance.
“What…” she whispers, her voice trailing off as she turns to me.
“This is what I’ve been working toward,” I say, crossing the room to sit at the edge of the bed. I rest my forearms on my knees, my fingers lacing together as I watch the images on the screen sink in. “That's why I needed the chip. Why we needed to be away until this was done.”
She doesn’t interrupt, just watches me with that sharp, assessing look, waiting for me to keep going.
“That chip wasn’t just leverage for me. It was insurance, proof of every sick, twisted thing the Assembly has done. For months, I had the evidence prepped—emails, files, transaction records, surveillance footage. All I had to do was press ‘send.’”
“And you did,” she says, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief.
I nod, my gaze steady on hers. “I sent it to law enforcement, the media, anyone who needed to be scared into keeping their fucking mouths shut. It took months to put it all together, to ensure every piece of it landed where it needed to. But once the chip was out of my hands, it was only a matter of time before the Assembly unraveled.”
Her eyes dart back to the screen as the anchor continues, listing names and showing mugshots of those arrested. Some of them I knew personally. Some of them I wanted dead more than I wanted to breathe.
I watch her carefully, the way she processes each detail, the shift in her expression—from shock to something else. Something quieter.
“Those who mattered at all are gone now,” I say, my voice lower. “Dead in standoffs or rotting in jail. There are still pawns left, but none of them have the power to rebuild. Not without the people at the top.”
She finally turns to me, her voice hesitant. “And you?”
I let out a slow breath, leaning forward. “I’m the only one left with any real leverage. What I have could destroy the rest of them if they even think about stepping out of line.”
It would have been impossible to damn them all, though I would have if I could. But the truth is, so many of them were in the same situation I was—forced into something they never wanted to be a part of. Some were monsters. Others were just trying to survive.
Not only would it have been impossible, but also cruel. Unfair.
And a lot of these men… they were the only real family I had left. Not that blood matters when I have Jack.
And Kruz now.
Her brows knit together, concern flashing in her eyes. “Won’t they retaliate?”
“They won’t,” I say firmly. “I made sure of it. The ones still alive are too scared to move against me, and the ones who might’ve tried… well, they’re not in a position to do anything anymore.”
