Page 144 of Desperate Actions

My men are waiting, already geared up and ready to move.

Handpicked. Experienced. Deadly.

The second the words leave my lips, they understand the assignment.

Whoever led the crew that hit the Den? They weren’t amateurs. They were ex-military. Their movements were too clean, their strategy too sharp.

This wasn’t some random smash-and-grab.

It was planned.

Coordinated.

Which means there’s a bigger reason behind it.

That thumb drive they took?

Old files. Inactive accounts. Nothing relevant to Viper Enterprises’ current business.

So why go to all this trouble for something obsolete?

Something doesn’t add up.

And I don’t like loose ends.

The blacked-out SUV pulls into the alley behind the Den. The moment we stop, I feel it—eyes on me.

Watching.

Waiting.

Assessing.

Angel Fury is already outside, standing like a fucking sentry, arms crossed over his massive chest. His face is set in stone, his dark eyes razor-sharp.

His presence alone demands respect. Commands attention.

The tension in the air is thick enough to cut.

I step out of the SUV, close the door behind me, and meet his stare head-on. I don’t breathe too deep because that would mean admitting to feelings I’d rather not share with my father-in-law.

That and the fact it smells like cat piss in that back alley.

His expression doesn’t change as I draw near.

I see it clear as day—the weight of barely contained aggression simmering just beneath the surface.

The same look he gave me when he sucker-punched me in the face after marrying Aella.

Like he was measuring me.

Deciding whether I was worth keeping alive.

He’s not a man who forgives easily.

And I fucking took his daughter.

At least, that’s probably how he sees it.

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