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“Boss.” Micah’s voice crackles through the earpiece. “We’ve got three teams in position. Ready on your command.”

I pull up to the rendezvous point, killing the engine. Through the windshield, I can see the warehouse—a hulking shadow against the night sky. My men are invisible in the darkness, but I know they’re there, waiting.

“Remember,” I say into the comm, checking my weapon, “we need Costa alive. He has information we need to keep Nicolo out of my city. But anyone else who resists—” I let the silence finish my sentence.

I signal my team forward, keeping low as we advance on the warehouse. The night air is thick with tension, every breath measured and controlled. Through my earpiece, Eli confirms positions—three teams ready to breach, all exits covered. Perfect.

“Seb, you in position?” I whisper through the channel.

“Hell, yes,” he replies. “Let’s take these motherfuckers down.”

My boots crunch softly on broken concrete as I lead my group toward the east entrance. The warehouse looms ahead, its broken windows like dark eyes watching our approach. A faint light flickers inside, casting moving shadows through the grimy glass.

“On my mark,” I whisper, pressing against the cold metal wall. My heart pounds. I’ve done this a hundred times before. “Three, two…”

The explosion comes from nowhere.

The ground beneath my feet erupts, throwing me backward. Heat sears my face as debris rains down. Through the ringing in my ears, there’s shouting—my men, Alessandro’s crew, all hell breaking loose at once.

“It’s a trap!” Seb’s voice crackles through static. “They knew we were coming.”

Gunfire erupts from multiple directions. I roll behind a concrete barrier, drawing my weapon. Through the smoke, my men scramble for cover as Alessandro’s crew emerges from hidden positions—way more than fifteen. We’re surrounded.

“Fall back,” I command, returning fire at a shadow moving through the chaos. “Regroup at—”

Another explosion rocks the night, closer this time. The barrier protecting me shatters, forcing me to dive for new cover. Hot pain slices across my arm—a bullet finding its mark.

“Boss, they’ve got the south exit blocked,” Micah says, his voice tight with tension. “We’re pinned down!”

Fuck. This was supposed to be a clean operation. Get in, neutralize the threat, get out. Now we’re caught in Alessandro’s web, exactly where he wanted us. The bastard played us perfectly.

“Hold positions,” I order, checking my wound. The bullet only grazed me, but blood soaks my sleeve. “Do not let them split us up!”

More gunfire peppers the night. Through the smoke and chaos, I catch glimpses of Alessandro’s men advancing, tightening the noose. This isn’t just an ambush—it’s a goddamn execution squad.

Through the chaos and gunfire, I spot movement—a figure darting between shadows. My finger tightens on the trigger, but I hesitate. The smoke is too thick, the risk of hitting one of my own men too high.

“Seb,” I shout into my comm. “Status!”

Static crackles in my ear. Fuck. Our communications are compromised.

A bullet whizzes past my head, embedding itself in the wall behind me. I return fire, satisfaction coursing through me as my target drops. But there are too many of them, advancing from all sides like a pack of wolves closing in for the kill.

The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth—I must have bit my cheek during one of the explosions. My arm throbs where the bullet grazed me, but adrenaline dulls the pain. Through the haze, I catch glimpses of my men fighting back, holding their positions despite being outnumbered.

Movement to my left. I spin, weapon raised, but I’m too slow.

White-hot pain explodes across my arm as a blade slices through my jacket, cutting deep. The knife-wielder—one of Alessandro’s top enforcers—grins through the smoke. His teeth gleam like a predator’s.

“Boss sends his regards,” he snarls, lunging forward for another strike.

I dodge, but my injured arm throws off my balance. The blade catches me again, a shallow cut this time. Blood runs warm down my sleeve, my grip on my gun weakening.

The enforcer presses his advantage, forcing me back toward the warehouse wall. Each movement sends fresh pain shooting through my arm, but I can’t afford to show weakness. Not here. Not now.

“Your brother’s next,” he taunts, circling closer. “Then that pretty detective of yours.”

Rage floods my system, hot and familiar. The thought of this piece of shit anywhere near Eve or Seb ignites something primal inside me. The pain in my arm fades beneath a wave of pure fury.