Page 94 of Knuckles & Knives
Axel ignores me. “Vincent Blackwood didn’t just have enemies. He had someone on the inside. Someone who’s been planning this for five years.”
I open my mouth to demand more, but Axel’s vital signs begin crashing.
“He’s going into shock,” Marcus reports, his medical training taking over. “Blood loss, possible internal injuries, definitely a concussion.”
“Hospital?” Dom asks.
“Too risky,” I decide immediately. “They’d have to report the injuries, and we can’t afford official attention right now.”
“Then we treat him here,” Kieran says with grim determination. “Whatever it takes.”
The next six hours blur together in a haze of medical procedures, desperate improvisation, and the terrible uncertainty that comes with trying to save someone’s life without proper equipment. We clean wounds, set his broken arm, monitor his vital signs, and take turns keeping watch while he drifts in and out of consciousness.
It’s during one of his lucid moments, around midnight, that Axel reaches for my hand with surprising strength.
“Raven,” he whispers, his voice rough but coherent. “The intelligence… The Sterling Syndicate isn’t the real enemy. They’re just foot soldiers for someone much more dangerous.”
“Alexander Cross,” I mumble. “My father’s old lieutenant.”
He had been my father’s most trusted advisor, his strategic genius, the man who taught me half of what I know about running a criminal organization. The man whose funeral I attended, whose death I mourned.
“That’s impossible,” I breathe. “I saw his body. I was at his funeral.”
“Staged,” Axel confirms. “All of it. He’s been alive this whole time, building his own network, positioning himself to take over both the Blackwood and Sterling empires. Your father’s murder wasn’t about family rivalry. It was about eliminating the one person who could have stopped Cross from seizing control.”
If Alexander Cross is alive, if he’s been orchestrating events from behind the scenes, then everything we’ve fought for has been according to his plan. Our war with the Sterling Syndicate, Kieran’s betrayal of his bloodline, even my own return to claim my father’s legacy… all of it has been playing into Cross’s hands.
“He wanted you to come back,” Axel continues, his grip on my hand tightening. “Wanted you to destroy the Sterling Syndicate from within, to eliminate his competition and consolidate power under your leadership. Then he planned to eliminate you and claim the unified empire for himself.”
“But something went wrong,” I realize.
“Exactly,” Axel agrees with a weak smile. “He planned for Raven Blackwood, the cold strategist seeking revenge. He didn’t plan for the woman who would inspire four dangerous men to choose love over everything else they valued.”
Alexander Cross has been playing a game where he controls all the pieces, but he’s made one critical miscalculation. He’s underestimated the power of genuine loyalty, of chosen family, of bonds forged in combat rather than shaped by blood or fear.
“Rest now,” I tell Axel, brushing his hair back from his fevered forehead. “We’ll plan our next move when you’re stronger.”
“Can’t rest,” he protests. “Too much to do. Cross is planning something big, something that will happen within days. I could feel it in the communications I intercepted.”
“Then we’ll be ready for whatever he’s planning. All of us. Together.”
“Promise me something,” Axel says, his wild eyes focusing on mine with desperate intensity.
“Anything.”
“Promise that if Cross comes for you, if he tries to eliminate the threat you represent, you won’t face him alone. Promise you’ll trust us to protect what we’ve built.”
“I promise,” I tell him, and I mean it. “No more solo missions. No more unnecessary risks. We face Cross together, as a family.”
Axel’s smile is soft and satisfied as exhaustion finally claims him. “Family,” he murmurs. “I like the sound of that.”
As I watch him sleep, surrounded by the three other men who’ve chosen to stand with me against impossible odds, I realize that Axel’s near-death experience has crystallized something I’ve been trying not to acknowledge.
I love them. All of them. Not just as partners or allies or convenient assets in my war against those who destroyed my father. I love Dom’s protective strength, Kieran’s sacrificial devotion, Marcus’s analytical precision, and Axel’s wild, beautiful chaos.
I love them enough to restructure my plans, to abandon pure revenge in favor of something more sustainable. I love them enough to build something new instead of just destroying what came before.
And I love them enough to face Alexander Cross—the man who taught me strategy, who shaped my tactical thinking, who knows my weaknesses better than anyone—and prove that the student has finally surpassed the teacher.
