Page 55 of Hunter's Game
“Got them to commit all their forces to one massive assault.” She nodded. “And now...”
She pressed a button on her phone. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the night exploded.
Hidden charges detonated throughout the compound’s outer perimeter, taking Romano’s advance teams with them. The factory’s ground floor became an inferno, cutting off the enemy’s primary approach.
But Eden wasn’t done.
“Those vehicles they’re using?” She nodded toward the approaching armored carriers. “Turns out Romano’s brother bought them through some interesting channels. Channels that might attract attention from, say, federal tactical teams.”
As if on cue, new helicopters appeared, these marked with FBI insignia. Eden’s smile was pure satisfaction as she watched Romano’s forces realize they were caught between the Blind Jacks and federal response teams.
“You called the feds.” Hunter’s voice held something like awe. “You crazy, beautiful genius.”
“Technically, Carson called them.” She showed him the phone again. “His last act as Romano’s inside man was to alert federal authorities about a major weapons exchange happening at this location. Complete with documentation of Romano’s illegal arms purchases.”
“So when their tactical teams tracked the vehicles here...”
“They found exactly what they were looking for.” Eden watched chaos erupt below as federal agents engaged Romano’s forces. “Sometimes, the best trap is the truth.”
Gunfire and explosions lit up the pre-dawn sky as three separate forces collided. The Blind Jacks held their ground, letting federal agents and Romano’s mercenaries tear each other apart while maintaining strategic positions.
“Almost perfect.” Hunter’s voice carried a warning. “Except for one thing.”
Eden followed his gaze to movement on a nearby rooftop. Through her scope, she caught a familiar profile—Aleksander Romano, watching his forces crumble.
The early light revealed details hidden during their previous encounter in the warehouse—the deep scar that ran from his right temple to jaw, the precise military bearing that contrasted with his brother’s affected sophistication. He’d abandoned his expensive suit for tactical gear that emphasized his lean, predatory build. Even from this distance, she could see the cold calculation in his eyes as he surveyed the battlefield, fingers tapping methodically against the stock of his weapon—a custom sniper rifle with modifications suggesting both extensive resources and specialized training.
“He’s got a clear shot at Darkness.” Hunter was already moving. “If he takes out the club’s leadership—”
“Go.” Eden matched his pace as they headed for the ladder. “I’ll deal with Romano.”
“Eden.” His voice stopped her. “Don’t die.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She managed a fierce grin. “Got plans later.”
They split up again, Hunter heading to protect his president while Eden moved to confront the man who’d ordered her mother’s death. The battle raged around her, but her focus narrowed to a single target.
She was halfway across the compound when she saw it—the glint of a scope from a different position. Not aimed at Darkness.
Aimed at Hunter.
Eden didn’t think. Didn’t calculate odds or angles. For the first time in her life, instinct overrode training, the need to protect Hunter bypassing every survival protocol she’d ever learned.
The realization flashed through her mind in the split-second before impact: this was what her mother had felt, this willingness to sacrifice everything for someone else. This was what changed everything.
The impact felt like fire as the bullet meant for Hunter tore through her. Pain exploded across her consciousness, but it was secondary to the relief of seeing him still standing, still alive. She heard him shout her name, raw anguish replacing his usual controlled tone, felt strong arms catch her as she fell.
His face appeared above her, features sharp with fear and fierce determination. The hands that had killed with such efficiency now cradled her with desperate gentleness. She wanted to tell him that she understood now—understood why people risked everything for connection, why her mother had chosen protection over survival, why some choices transcended tactical advantage.
Above them, Aleksander Romano’s laugh carried over the chaos. “Like mother, like daughter. Always so predictably noble.”
Eden smiled through the pain, tasting blood. “Predictable this, asshole.”
She pressed the detonator she’d been saving for exactly this moment.
Romano had just enough time to realize his mistake before the charges Eden had planted during her earlier “capture” turned his position into a fireball.
