Page 147 of Desperate Actions

It’s a small moment, but I catch it. How much Angel hates being questioned, how much it grates on him when men like Luc toy with his patience.

I stifle my amusement, barely.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” Nico starts, his voice slow and deliberate. “Your, uh, daddy-in-law here—” he jerks his thumb at Angel, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Fuck you,” Angel mutters.

Nico grins, clearly enjoying himself before continuing. “Thinks you might be useful on deck. So, you’re gonna work the club like one of our team, with your guys, for a week or so. However long it takes to flush these fuckers out, yeah?”

I nod once. “Yes, sir. It would be my pleasure, Mr. Fury.”

“Good. I gotta go pick up my Rosebud for dinner. Angel, don’t kill him. I promised Sisi you wouldn’t,” Nico adds with casual indifference, but there’s a dangerous glint in his eye that says he’s watching.

My eyebrows rise slightly.

Aella’s mother got to him? That’s unexpected.

“Shit. She told you too?” Angel grumbles.

“Your wife is a feisty one. Tough as nails. Now play nice,” Nico replies, dipping his chin before turning toward the door.

Luc claps me on the shoulder. “I gotta run, too. Maria’s waiting on me. Good luck, Sammy.”

And just like that, they’re gone. The door clicks shut behind them, and I exhale slowly, my patience thinning. I already hate the idea of playing bouncer in this club, but Angel is right.

Whoever these guys are, they’re trained. Military trained.

And that means this wasn’t just some random hit.

The way they moved, the way they infiltrated, the precision of the entire job all points to something bigger. Something calculated.

And I will find out what.

I push back from my chair and rise to my feet. “I’ll head back to my team.”

But just as I turn, Angel stops me with a voice so low it barely reaches my ears.

“When this is over,” he says, quiet, deliberate, “I want you to leave her.”

I freeze.

Slowly, I turn back to face him, but my pulse is already pounding in my ears. My heart is a fucking war drum inside my chest, hammering out a rhythm that’s pure rage.

“What?” My voice is quiet, but the danger is there. Curling beneath the surface.

Angel Fury stares at me like he’s already decided I’m not enough. Like he’s waiting for me to prove him right.

“I said, leave her.”

His office feels smaller now. The walls pressing in, the air thick with something dark and suffocating.

I inhale sharply, forcing my rage to settle, forcing the beast inside me to stay leashed.

“With all due respect, Mr. Fury,” I say, my voice deadly calm, “fuck you.”

His reaction is instant.

He moves fast for a man his size, shoving back from his desk so hard his chair slams against the floor, the sound ricocheting off the walls.

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