Page 16 of Roulette Rodeo
But what does this mean for me…?
ALL IN FOR THE UNEXPECTED
~SHILOH~
The omega side of the gym was off-limits, but I'd been in enough restricted zones to know that rules were just suggestions when intel was on the line.
I moved down the hallway with practiced silence, each footstep calculated to avoid the creaky floorboards I'd mapped during reconnaissance two days ago. My target wasn't in the omega section—they were on the other side of the reinforced wall, visible through the observation windows that the gym pretended didn't exist.
Luca Ferrero and his pack of degenerates were here, in the heart of Nevada, and that made them my business.
Our business, technically.
The Lucky Ace Pack hadn't come to Vegas for the slots and showgirls. We'd come because Luca's mob family was encroaching on our legitimate operations up north, trying to muscle in on businesses we'd spent years building clean.
But this went deeper than territory disputes.
Rafe and Luca used to be brothers in everything but blood. Growing up in the same neighborhood, running the same crews, sharing everything from clothes to secrets to dreams of empire. On the surface, you wouldn’t know with their families owningmassive ranches that helped build the foundation of their small towns that grew and expanded thanks to their family lines, but those who knew what was hidden beneath the green pastures and horses, knew those boys were destined for greatness, especially together.
Most would have sworn they'd rule together forever just like their families and generations before them.
Then came the omega.
Sophia.
Even her name was a wound Rafe wouldn't let heal. She'd been a rare jewel in their world of sharp edges and broken glass—innocent, untouched, with a scent like spring rain and possibilities. Both alphas had wanted her.Neither would yield.And in their dick-measuring contest disguised as courtship, they'd pushed too hard, demanded too much.
She'd died.
Overdose,the official report said.
Suicide, those who'd known her whispered.
Murder,Rafe believed in his darkest moments.
The friendship had died with her, replaced by a feud that had cost lives, territory, and any chance of peace.
Rafe had walked away from that life, tried to build something clean with us. But Luca couldn't let it go. Wouldn't let him move on when he was still suffering.
Which is why I was here, playing guardian angel with a sniper's patience.
I checked my reflection in the dark window—habit from years of ops where appearance mattered as much as ammunition.
At six-foot-four, I was built for intimidation rather than infiltration, but I'd learned to use both. My sandy brown hair was pulled back tight, military regulation even though I'd been discharged for two years. Forest green eyes that a therapist oncecalled "hypervigilant" tracked every movement, every exit, every potential threat.
The Arizona sun had left its mark during last month's training in the Grand Canyon—because apparently, my idea of "fun" was rappelling down cliff faces and running tactical drills in 120-degree heat. My skin had that permanent tan that spoke of too many hours under unforgiving skies. The black athletic gear I wore was top-tier tactical disguised as civilian — moisture-wicking fabric that could stop a knife, if necessary.
But even the expensive material strained against biceps that had been built for carrying wounded brothers across battlefields.
The cargo pants were pure habit.
Once special forces, always prepared for war, even if that war was now fought in boardrooms and back alleys instead of desert compounds.
I positioned myself at the corner where I could observe without being seen. Luca's pack was laughing about something, probably planning which business they'd hit next, which of our people they'd try to turn. This was supposed to be reconnaissance, maybe a subtle warning if the opportunity arose. Public space, too many witnesses for them to try anything serious. All the cards on the table, but the house rules keeping everyone civil.
Then the scent hit me.
It was like taking a sniper round to the chest—sudden, devastating, completely derailing everything I thought I knew about myself.
