Page 107 of Spinner's Luck

I froze. The word taking me by surprise.

My head snapped toward him. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Drago pushed his chair back with a slow scrape. Stood up. His boots were heavy against the concrete as he stepped closer, closing the space between us.

“Let her run.”

My stomach twisted. My rage turned cold. “The hell are you talkin’ about? We need her, Drago. She’s the key to getting Zeynep.”

His eyes locked on mine, dark, giving nothing away. The kind of stare that saw ten steps ahead while I was still swinging punches at the first obstacle. I hated when he pulled this shit, because he was usually dead wrong.

“You’re plan is to chase her and grab her right away.” His voice dropped low. Dangerous. The kind of tone that made lesser men second-guess their choices.

But I wasn’t most men.

I squared my shoulders. “You got a better plan?”

Drago’s smirk was slow, knowing, the kind of thing that made the hairs on my arms rise. “Lucy’s smart. She’s trying to draw us away from the clubhouse, from Zeynep, from the club itself. But that’s her mistake.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Mistake?”

His grin sharpened. “She’s out there, alone. No backup. No Devil to swoop in and save her. She’s a lost kitten, Fang. We let her keep running for a while and then we’re gonna cage her.”

The fire inside me turned to ice. Hunting prey was one thing. Making them think they were in control? That was something different. That was a fucking art.

“So,” I said, letting my own smirk stretch slow and deadly, “we hunt her, but at a distance.”

“Not just hunt her.” Drago leaned in, voice a near whisper. “We make her believe she’s winning. Let her think she’s leading us on a wild goose chase. The farther she gets from the Devil’s House, the better. And when she’s good and tired, when she’s run herself into a corner…”

I finished the thought, my grin widening. “We take her without a fight.”

Drago nodded. And in that moment, I saw it—the same vision he had. Lucy, exhausted. Desperate. Mine.

“She thinks she’s smart,” I murmured, my excitement uncoiling like a blade being drawn. “But once she’s exhausted, she’ll slip up and be easy to capture. Too tired to fight.”

Drago smirked. “And once we have her, Zeynep won’t have a choice but to come crawling back to save her friend. We’ll give her a refresher on what we’re capable of, and it can’t happen soon enough. I’m going fucking crazy without her.”

I started pacing again, my mind already working through the angles, the cracks in the road ahead. I needed leads. Needed to get my hands around her throat. To feel her pulse underneath my fingers.

Drago’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Get the men ready. And tell them to stay focused. Lucy might be clever, but she’s not invincible. She’ll make a mistake. And when she does, we’ll be there.”

I nodded sharply, already heading for the door, blood thrumming in my veins. This was gonna be fun.

A low chuckle rumbled from my chest as I stepped into the hallway.

Drago didn’t laugh.

I did.

I lived for the hunt.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

DAMN THE NIGHTair was hot against my skin,carrying the faint scent of salt from the nearby marshes. My legs burned with every step, the weight of my bag dragging at my shoulder as I pushed deeper into the darkness.

Four days.

Four days of running. Four days of looking over my shoulder. Four days of trying not to think about what I left behind.

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