Page 75 of His to Destroy

Enzo steps closer. "We’ll have men waiting.”

“How many?” I ask.

“Eight, including me. It’s a small deal compared to what he usually runs. So I don’t expect him to come with a lot of men.”

"And me," Sancia adds, cracking her knuckles. “No way I’m missing this showdown.”

I smile grimly.

"Good," I say. "Tell everyone to go after whoever he comes with. But leave him to me. Stark’s mine."

"You sure?" Enzo asks, raising a brow.

"Never been more certain of anything.”

I need to be the one to end this.

No shadows. No intermediaries.

Just me.

And him.

And everything that’s been festering between us for far too long.

***

We move at midnight.

The convoy is small—three black SUVs, windows tinted, engines growling low under the weight of violence about to be unleashed.

I sit in the front passenger seat of the lead vehicle, staring out at the dark streets as they whip past.

My mind is clear and very focused.

There’s no fear.

Only a deep, thrumming certainty that this is right.

This is justice.

For Almeria.

For Luca.

For the boy I used to be—the one Stark betrayed when he decided to stain my hands with her blood.

The safe house is a squat, ugly building on the edge of a crumbling lot, surrounded by rusted chain-link fences and broken asphalt.

A perfect place for a slaughter.

We pull up half a block away.

I step out first, checking the twin pistols strapped under my jacket, the knife hidden at my lower back.

Sancia moves beside me, her own weapon drawn.

Enzo gives a few sharp hand signals, and the rest of the men fan out silently, positioning themselves for the breach.

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