Page 126 of Undisputed Player
But the moment of levity died as Adrian's expression shifted, his fingers dancing across the keyboard with focus. The blue light cast shadows across his face, making him look like a digital reaper cataloguing souls.
"Confirmed," he said grimly, voice carrying that manic edge that meant blood was about to spill. "Damon's men. Two guns from the cartel."
He rotated the tablet toward me. Security footage showed two figures in black scaling the arena’s exterior wall, their movements precise, professional. My fingers brushed Estelle’s hair, the rage so sharp I tasted copper.
“Where is he?”
“Downtown loft.” Adrian’s finger tapped the screen, pulling up an image of a high-rise. “He thinks he’s untouchable behind twelve floors of cartel muscle.”
Connor’s voice rumbled through the dark, low enough not to disturb the girls. “Guards?”
“Four on rotation. Two at the private elevator, two on the roof.” Adrian’s smile was all teeth and malice. “They’re expecting legal threats, not us.”
Estelle stirred, a soft breath caught in her throat. I pressed my lips to her hair, inhaling the fading citrus scent of her hair. “Shhh, princess,” I murmured, my hand sliding up to cradle her. “I’ve got you.”
Her lashes fluttered but didn’t open, her trust a blade twisting in my chest. She had no idea what we were about to do. What monsters we were about to become, but even if she did, I wouldn’t fucking care. She’d have to understand one way or another.
When I looked up, Connor was watching me, his gaze sharp. “You’re in?”
I didn't blink. Didn't hesitate. "I'll tear his throat out with my teeth."
I wanted to destroy Damon with my bare hands for even making me think about a world where she didn’t exist.
Adrian’s eyes lit with unholy glee as he continued digging through files. “Gas line in the kitchen. We could make a small explosion, non-lethal but… persuasive. Flush him out like a rat.”
I nodded, jaw clenched so hard it hurt. My hand drifted to the hidden compartment built into the jet’s seats, my thumb brushing the edge of the fingerprint pad.
My gun was inside, loaded, a spare mag nestled in memory foam. I never went anywhere without it, though I’d never needed it on the jet before.
Now I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About how close I’d come to losing her. About how easy it would be to put a bullet in Damon’s skull and end this.
Connor's hand moved in slow circles over Sierra's back, his voice a careful whisper. "We're not waiting for the hearing."
Adrian grinned, all teeth and malice. “I can fake a call from some underlings, draw him outside, do it the boring way.”
“And then?” Connor’s tone was soft, but his eyes were dead black.
I met his stare, letting all the rage and terror I’d been holding back show. “We make him regret it.”
Adrian’s knife flicked open, the blade catching the cabin light. “Warehouse?”
“Warehouse,” I agreed.
My heart hammered, but it was a cold, steady rhythm now. I’d been raised to solve problems with charm, money, and exactly this when needed. This was a threat, and threats got erased.
Estelle shifted in my lap, her hand tightening in my shirt. I stilled, holding my breath until she settled, her breathing deep and even. I ran my fingers through her hair again, gentling myself for her sake.
Adrian’s gaze flicked to my hand on the gun safe, then back to my face. He nodded once, understanding.
“You want the honors?”
“I want him alive,” I said quietly. “I want him to know why he’s dying.”
Connor’s lips twisted in a rare, vicious smile. “He will.”
I looked out the window, the city lights blurring beneath us. The jet was a sanctuary, but it was also a cage. I couldn’t move, couldn’t act, not while Estelle slept in my arms. I was half a man, half a monster, waiting for the chance to become whole.
Connor’s penthouse was silent except for the soft shuffle of Toffee exploring his kingdom. Connor carried Sierra straight to the master bedroom, his arms locked around her like she was the only thing tethering him to the ground.
