Page 44 of Depraved

"Not friends," he said finally, his voice rough. "Not anymore."

He told me about his buddies from back at the field office. Friends of his that had gone through the academy with him and Leon, and that guy I killed—Charlie. They were pissed, and wanted revenge for their friend’s deaths. It wasn’t surprising. Cops were all a bunch of corrupt motherfuckers. We were called criminals, and yet they did the same shit, and got away with it. They were killers just like we were, only their badges gave them the license to do so without repercussions.

“How did they know where we were? I thought the safe house was safe.”

Gage's eyes flicked to the others in the room before settling back on me. "Sarah and Charlie were involved. Romantically. Had been for months before he died. They kept it quiet—Department regulations and all that. But they were serious. Charlie had even talked about proposing."

I could see the pain etched in the lines of his face. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"You think she tipped them off," I finished for him, my voice flat.

Gage nodded, his expression grim. "It's the only thing that makes sense. I just never thought she’d stoop so low. She was a rule follower, and always protected the innocent. She wanted to keep Claudia safe, but I just… I just know it was her.”

“And where is my mom, anyway?”

“On her way to the villa with Tomasso and Effren. We got her out of there as soon as we could. She’ll be safe at home.”

Home.

He said it like it was still his home to claim. As if he was still welcome there.

The next day,we arrived back in New Mexico. It felt surreal to be back, like everything that had happened was some sort of fucked up fever dream. Enforcers patrolled the property, guards at the watchtowers waving us through the gates. The recent attack had clearly put everyone on high alert. Good. We couldn't afford to let our guard down again.

I climbed out of the SUV, my muscles protesting after hours of travel. Sarge was at my side, his warm hand resting protectively on the small of my back.

As we made our way inside, River veered off, leading Gage towards white room. We had to be careful, even though every cell in my body protested. He knew what that room was used for, had probably imagined it countless times during his undercover stint. Now he was about to experience it firsthand.

Sarge and I headed to Raul’s office—my office now, I guess, while Alex went to check on Claudia. My mom was probably terrified. I was told they’d placed her in the guest house, away from the main building that had blast marks and bullet holes from the attack.

As we walked down the long hallway, I couldn't help but notice the way the staff averted their eyes. I straightened my spine, chin held high. I wouldn't show weakness, not now.

As Sarge and I entered the office, I was struck by how different it felt. The room that had once been Raul's sanctuary now seemed to pulse with a new energy.

The space was already filled with familiar faces—our most trusted lieutenants and highest-ranking enforcers. Diego leaned against the bookshelf, his dark eyes watchful as always. Mateo and Carlos flanked the oak desk. In the corner, Emilio lounged in a leather armchair, sitting up as I entered. Tomasso, Vinny and Effren were helping River with Gage, but they’d join us soon.

I made my way to the desk, my fingers trailing over the smooth surface. How many times had I stood on the other side, waiting for Raul's judgment? Now it was my turn to sit in the seat of power.

As I settled into the high-backed chair, I felt the rightness of it settle over me. This empire was mine now, as it was always meant to be. These men had been loyal to Raul for years, some for decades.

"Gentlemen, as you're aware, we've suffered a significant blow. Our security was compromised, and we barely got out. We know the feds are behind it. A small group of them decided to go rogue after we killed their buddies at the docks.” I sat back in the chair. “We’ll retaliate immediately. I won’t give them time to lick their wounds.”

"Thanks to our...guestin the white room, we now have insider information. Gage will provide us with detailed intel on their home base—the layout, security protocols, personnel rotations. Everything we need to strike hard and fast." I paused, letting the implications sink in. "We're going to hit them where it hurts most. One clean sweep to take out the entire unit."

Diego pushed off from the bookshelf. "You're talking about a direct assault on a federal building. That's suicide."

I smiled coldly. "It would be, if we were going in blind. But we're not. We'll have every advantage—the element of surprise, insider knowledge, and one of their own.”

"Hey there, beautiful,"I cooed, scooping Samantha up into my arms the moment I stepped into my bedroom. Her purr rumbled against my chest as I buried my face in her soft fur. "You wouldn't believe the week I've had."

I set Samantha down on the bed, giving her one last scratch behind the ears before heading to the shower. The hot water was heavenly, soothing my aching muscles and washing away the grime of the past few days. I stood under the spray for longer than necessary, letting the steam envelop me like a cocoon.

As I stepped out, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel, I caught sight of my reflection in the foggy mirror. Faint bruises still marred my skin. I traced the outline of a particularly nasty one on my ribs, remembering the boot that had put it there.

I dried off and slipped into a simple black dress. The soft fabric clung to my curves, the hemline hitting just above my knees. I paired it with my favorite red heels, and then made my way downstairs.

The villa was quiet, most of the staff giving me a wide berth. I stepped out into the balmy evening air, the scent of the day’s heat heavy on the breeze. As I approached the small cottage, warm light spilled from the windows. I hesitated for a moment at the door, my hand hovering as I debated whether or not to knock. But Sarge and I were long past those formalities. I turned the knob and stepped inside.

The interior was warm and inviting. Rich leather furniture and dark wood accents gave the space a masculine energy that was perfectly Sargent Silva. The air was thick with steam, scented with his signature blend of sandalwood and tobacco.

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