Page 26 of Lyon

Then, gunfire erupted.

Jackson grunted, staggering back. Blood spread across his shirt.

“Go through the trap door,” I hissed. “Now.”

He hesitated, but I shoved him toward the hidden passage. It led to the building next door—our only escape.

The door burst open, slamming against the wall.

I turned slowly, my heart hammering.

Luke. I didn’t have a doubt.

He was white, wiry, and strung out—the kind of man who had lost his soul a long time ago. He ran the Los Angeles branch of the cartel, and I had just become his next target.

His gaze was cold as he stepped forward. “You’re dead. No one messes with my business. I haven’t seen a dime from you.”

I squared my shoulders, forcing a smirk. “Why the hell would I pay you? I don’t even know who you are.”

Luke let out a dry chuckle. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ll know soon enough.” He gestured to his men. “Take her.”

Not happening.

The sirens outside wailed louder.

I lashed out, my boot connecting with Luke’s gut. He went down hard, gasping for air.

One of his men lunged—I slammed my elbow into his face, sending him sprawling.

The third man hesitated. Then, instead of fighting, he grabbed Luke and hauled him toward a waiting car.

I turned to the last guy, who was still groaning on the ground. I stomped down on his wrist for good measure, then grabbed my bag and bolted for the trap door.

I crawled backward into the tunnel, my foot knocking into something solid.

“Jackson?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “We need to make a decision. If we leave the tunnel now, we risk being seen.”

“I’m calling Joseph. We need backup. Someone from the inside leaked my identity, and when I find out who it is, they’re dead.”

I dialed. “Joseph, someone told the cartel I was undercover. We need an extraction at the tunnel house.Now.”

“Who’s with you?”

“Jackson. He got shot. We need a medic.”

“Understood. Medic will be there in three minutes.

Then—creak.

I tensed.

Someone had just opened the trap door behind us.

“Move,” I whispered.

Jackson grabbed my arm, pulling me forward. We scrambled into the next building, locking the trap door behind us. I checked his leg—the wound was bad.

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