Page 174 of Blackwood

“This place just foreclosed a couple weeks ago,” Knox mutters from the van, fingers flying over the keyboard. “Bank never even changed the locks.”

He zooms in on a floor plan glowing across the screens. A four-story Victorian dream turned nightmare. Still fully furnished. Perfect cover.

“Tex is in position,” Knox says, tone clipped. “Laing, Bella, you’re clear to enter. Remember, Krolek thinks this is his chance to move up in the world. He’s looking to supply your clubs, so play it smooth.”

Nate chimes in, “Bella, make it clear you’re asking for a sample of the girls. We still don’t know where he’s keeping them, so don’t pull the trigger unless you have eyes.”

Knox exhales into the mic, the calm before the storm. “Keep it sexy. Convincing.”

We’re watching from the van parked three houses down, hidden under a veil of shadows and outdated neighborhood neglect. Lex leans forward in his seat, jaw tight, eyes locked on the tablet like he could burn a hole straight through the screen.

“I fucking hate this part of the job,” he growls, voice low and strained. “It’s bullshit that I couldn’t go in there with her but Mortal Fucking Kombat can. I swear to God if Dragon-Dick so much as—”

“Drop it Lex,” Nate pipes up, clearly annoyed with our presence.

“Did you just say Dragon-Dick?” Knox laughs.

“If the name fucking fits.”

“They’re in,” Nate says, completely ignoring Lex and Knox’s banter.

In the weeks I was gone, Lex didn’t just stick around. He carved out a place in Bella’s world like he’d always belonged there. Like he was built for it.

He’s practically part of The Trifecta family now. Ellie and Haley laugh at his jokes like he’s always been in the group. Knox calls him ride or die. Coach Javi trusts him with lighting cues and drills. Rico even tosses him fabric swatches for costume input. The crowds love him. The girls love him more.

And Bella? She looks at him like he’s gravity.

But what kills me most is that he’s been on multiple Project Dylan missions. Missions where he got to see her at her fiercest. Not just dancing or teasing or breaking hearts, but burning the whole world down to save the innocent. Leading. Commanding. Conquering.

He watched her walk through hell and drag light out of it.

And I missed it. I missed her. The real her. The one who doesn’t flinch. The one who carries scars and still fights like the world’s worth saving.

Lex got to stand in the glow. He got to hold that flame.

I look at the screen, Bella and Laing are in the entry way of the mansion. She’s breathtaking. Her dress is sculpted elegance and danger sewn in black satin. Strapless with a slit that cuts nearly to her hip. It fits like it was poured onto her. The fabric catches the soft hallway light and turns it into something sinful—shadows and shine tracing the curves of her body with every step. A damn weapon dressed for war.

Laing’s right beside her, looking just as sharp. Sleek dark suit, perfectly tailored, no tie, and shirt unbuttoned just enough to flash that damn dragon tattoo on his chest like he’s proud of it. And he should be, I guess. The guy’s infuriatingly good-looking.

And yet all I see are his fingers anchored to the small of her back, pressing just a little too low. Too territorial and intimate. Like he’s earned the right to touch her like that.

He hasn’t.

I can appreciate a beautiful man. I’m an artist, I get it. But the second he forgets where he stands, I’ll happily remind him.

Lex mutters beside me. “Fucking Mortal Kombat-ass prick.”

Knox glances up from the screens. “You good?”

“No,” Lex growls. “He touches her like that again, I swear to God—”

“Not the time,” I cut in. But my voice is tight as well, because it’s not just Lex losing his composure. Being forced to watch the woman we love play pretend in a way that makes my skin crawl is almost enough to make me lose mine too.

She approaches the man at the center of it all, Krolek. Tall, late fifties, slick gray suit and a shark smile. He’s holding a glass of something expensive, surrounded by men who look just like him. All masks and monsters.

“Please,” Krolek gestures to the leather chairs next to him. “Sit.”

Laing drops into one of the oversized armchairs and pulls Bella down onto his lap like it’s her rightful place. My stomach twists.