Page 112 of Reckless: Corruption

I hear a small whimper from beyond the door—Mona—and adrenaline floods my bloodstream.

I drop the case to the ground, my decision made. Some things matter more than plans. Even world-saving ones.

The Sterling in me might have run to save the mission. But the person I’ve become—the one who’s learned about family and pack—knows you never leave anyone behind.

Not even your crazy sister.

Chapter 23

Cayenne

I don’t thinkbefore charging back through the door—the decision bypasses my brain entirely, operating on deeper programming like machine code beneath layers of software. My body moves before my mind can catch up with all the reasons this is a terrible idea.

The scene that greets me is straight out of a nightmare. Alexander has Mona pinned against the wall, her normally manic expression replaced with cold calculation despite the blood streaming from a deep gash on her arm, the fabric of her wetsuit torn and saturated with crimson. His gun presses beneath her jaw, tactical team forming a semicircle behind him like cultists awaiting a sacrifice.

My stomach lurches, bile rising in my throat. This is my fault. I left her.

“Interesting development,” Mona observes, spotting me first. “Very unexpected. Much poor decision-making.”

Alexander’s head turns, his eyes finding mine with predatory focus—green like mine, like Mona’s, but devoid of anything human. “Back so soon, little sister? I was just explaining to Mona the consequences of her sabotage.”

“Get away from her,” I growl, stepping fully into the room, my voice steadier than the trembling in my chest.

His laugh is cold and precise. “Or what? You’ve lost your leverage, your pack, and your escape route. What exactly do you think you can do?”

The tactical team shifts, weapons trained on me with military precision. One nods toward the case I’ve set down by the door. Fear crawls up my spine like ice water, but beneath it something else burns—rage, purpose, the desperate need to protect what’s mine.

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” I say, channeling Ryker’s alpha authority despite my beta status. My heart pounds so hard I’m certain they can hear it across the room. “But then, you never did understand what Mona and I are capable of.”

“Please,” Alexander scoffs. “I’ve been studying you both for years. Every move, every pattern, every weakness.”

“Then you should know better than to turn your back on her,” I reply, desperately trying to buy time while my mind races through escape scenarios.

His lips curl into a smirk. “Mona isn’t a physical threat. She’s all mind games and chemical chaos.”

“True,” Mona agrees, her eyes flicking to mine with silent communication. “Very cerebral. Much intellectual approach. Minimal combat efficiency.”

But I recognize the look—the same one she gave me when demonstrating Sterling combat methodology on the training mats. Everyone underestimates Mona. Including Alexander. My muscles tense, preparing for whatever insanity she’s about to unleash.

“What did father promise you this time?” I ask, taking a careful step forward, drawing his attention away from Mona.“Another medal? Another pat on the head? Or just the satisfaction of being his good little soldier?”

Alexander’s jaw tightens—the first tell I’ve been waiting for. Anger makes him sloppy. Just like it does with Jinx, that careful control slipping when emotions run hot.

“You know nothing about my relationship with father.”

“I know he broke you,” I counter, taking another step, each movement calculated to appear casual. “Remade you into something that forgot it was once left-handed.”

His eyes widen fractionally—surprise that I know this intimate detail of his reprogramming. My palms are slick with sweat, but I don’t let my gaze falter.

“That’s right,” I continue, taking another step. “Mona told me everything. How he forced you to forget yourself. How he erased every trace of the boy you used to be.”

The gun at Mona’s throat trembles slightly. The tactical team exchanges glances, clearly uncomfortable with the family drama unfolding. Good. Uncertainty breeds mistakes.

“Did she also tell you how she shattered my knee? How she smiled while they reset it without anesthesia?” Alexander hisses, raw hate bleeding through his perfect facade.

“Self-defense,” Mona clarifies. “Very justified. Much disproportionate consequence.”

I can’t help the slight smile that forms. Even with a gun to her throat, Mona remains utterly herself. Something warm unfurls in my chest despite the danger—pride, recognition, maybe even love for this chaotic genius I never knew I needed.

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