Page 59 of Sinful Submission

“Keep talking.”

“The drug operation’s their biggest revenue stream. High-end product for rich clientele. The weapons facility supplies their hired muscle. And the club...” He glanced upstairs nervously. “The club makes it all look legitimate.”

“And Ronan runs all of this?”

“Him and his team. Each one manages different aspects. But they’re expanding, getting more ambitious. The warehouse hit was supposed to prove they could pick a part your team and show everyone they’re the stronger crew.”

“Give me the locations of the old factory, the warehouse, and the weapons storage facility.”

“I don’t know the exact addresses, but I can tell you the zones and the neighborhoods. Just... please, when I finish, never come back here again.”

I studied him, reading the truth in his terror. “Draw me a map. Now.”

His hands shook as he sketched locations on the paper I provided. When he finished, I memorized every detail.

“If you’re lying, you won’t hear from me again, but your family will.”

“I’m not. I swear.” His eyes darted upstairs again.

“Please, that’s all the information you need.”

I slippedinto the night as my mind spun with a plan of action to combat this enemy. Ronan had built more than just a rival team—he’d created an empire. Four operations centers, a network of hired muscle, high-end clientele—and he’d tried to copy our entire operations by his team each owning legit companies.

Ronan had caught us off guard as we did what we love to do - a hit. We were focused on the hunt while being hunted. The chaos caused Storm to lose his keycard, which gave Ronanand his team access to Storm’s university - and Santari. It was a clever way to discombobulate us - but we remained focused. We were more competent and thorough. The Paradox was built on trust, brotherhood, and mutual respect—not anger, fear, or retaliation. But we were coming with the hand of retribution.

And since he wanted our attention, we would give it to him—The Paradox way. One center at a time until there was nothing left but ghosts.

I wokeup to familiar voices speaking in deep but hushed tones and followed their voices until I was standing quietly in front of a door slightly ajar.

“Ronan.” Cruz slammed his hand on the table. “Four operation centers? The twisted motherfucker’s been building this since Rev’s death?”

“According to Aaron, Rev was their first strike, but they’ve been planning our demise since we excluded him from The Paradox.” Titan’s voice was measured, but I heard that wicked embodiment underneath.

“Four killers,” Storm added. “Like we used to be.”

“Each center is its own operation,” Titan said, marking locations on a map between them. “The east side warehouse runs their high-end drug distribution, targeting rich clientele only. The weapons facility by the port stocks hired gun groups in Miami. Club Velvet launders it all clean through legitimate accounts. And their main base in the industrial district coordinates everything.”

“This motherfucker thinks he’s smart,” Cruz said.

“Each operation has its own legitimate front,” Storm murmured. “Copying our playbook but sloppy. Getting ambitious.”

“The warehouse hit was meant to prove something,” Titan continued. “To show everyone they could cripple us. But they made one critical mistake.”

“They underestimated our power,” Storm murmured.

I pressed closer to the door, barely breathing as Titan continued.

“I was never supposed to survive warehouse forty-nine. They meant to pick us off one by one to show that they were the better team.”

“Titan,” Cruz growled. “What’s the plan? I know you’ve got a got damn plan.”

“We’re a man short,” Storm said quietly. “We have been since Rev. They think it makes us vulnerable.”

“And what do you think?” Titan snarled.

“I believe in us, but we have to consider that we’re outnumbered.”

I didn’t consciously decide to move. My body acted on its own, pushing the door open. Three heads snapped up, but I kept my chin high as I entered.

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