Page 21 of Broken Wolf Heart (Mafia Pack #3)

GREY

T he warehouse feels colder than usual, the air metallic and sharp with an edge that creeps beneath my skin.

Maybe it’s just Lexi’s absence that has me so tense.

I don’t want to be away from her, especially this soon after sealing our mate bond, but Andy needed her at the house for pack business, and none of us wants to wait on combing through these files.

Not after the way Severin acted about them earlier.

Or the way Lexi reacted to learning there’s no cure for her gene activation.

Besides, between Razor, Mia, and Andy, along with the two dozen armed guards roaming the place, Lexi’s safe where she is.

So, even though I believe Davina—Franco wouldn’t have wanted a cure for something that he saw as the ultimate transformation, so I’m not surprised he would have essentially prevented one from being possible.

I’m determined to find something helpful, not just for her but for me too.

The strange glowing in my veins is getting worse.

Not to mention the crazy bastard’s voice in my head, urging me to kill everything in sight .

The warehouse is the only secure place we’ve got. And not just for these files either. For me. Just in case.

The lights overhead cast grim shadows across the table cluttered with the research we printed out from the thumb drive on the way over. Page after page of Dr. Severin’s clinical notes and lab reports—words like forced evolution and gene activation staring back at me.

Next to me, Dutch sits hunched, head bowed, as he flips through pages.

Crow, usually calm and detached, radiates a restless energy where he sits at his computer, scanning the patient files that we didn’t bother to print yet.

His fingers tap impatient rhythms against the metal table, eyes narrowed in laser-sharp concentration.

“What the hell,” Dutch mutters, frowning as he flips through a file for the third time.

“What is it?” I ask, tensing.

“I found more gaps in the protocol data,” he says.

“Again?”

I set aside my own stack of files and peer over Dutch’s shoulder. This makes the fourth set of lab reports with missing protocol information.

“Look.” He holds up the pages to show me. “There are at least three sections missing from this batch alone. Someone deleted files.”

“And they aren’t on the thumb drive either,” Crow pipes up, fingers flying over the keyboard. “Whoever did this, they knew what they were doing to make sure I can’t recover them.”

“Protocol data on what, exactly?”

“Subject trials,” Dutch answers, mouth tightening.

“Lexi’s?” I ask, straightening.

Dutch shakes his head. “Not that I’ve seen yet. From the looks of it, these are his earlier experiments, though. A couple of pregnancies. From twenty years ago. Someone named Sofia and—hey! ”

Crow grabs the binder out of Dutch’s hands.

“What the fuck,” Dutch says.

“Switch me.” Crow shoves the computer at him.

Dutch takes it, shooting me a glance with brows raised. I shrug and look over at Crow again. His brow furrows, and he turns pages with a slow intensity that feels personal. Something’s off, but I have no idea what.

My eyes drift back to Dutch as he speeds through security footage Crow pulled from the lab’s camera feed. “There’s not much recent footage here,” he says.

I glance over to see grainy images flickering across his screen, distorted angles of sterile hallways and darkened labs.

Suddenly, Dutch pauses abruptly, fingers tightening over the mouse, his knuckles white.

“What?” My voice comes out sharper than intended.

“I don’t fucking believe it.” Dutch shakes his head slowly. “Fucker got there before us.”

“Who?” I ask.

He turns the screen so I can see. “Look.”

Crow sets the binder aside. We all lean closer to the grainy image. Dutch hits play, and the video resumes. The figure onscreen moves quickly, face hidden beneath a hood. But even with the bad angle and grainy darkness, there’s something distinctly familiar about the way the figure moves.

My gut tightens.

Dutch’s jaw works silently; then he lets out a breath. “That gait. Look how he favors the left side. Fuck. It’s Ramsey.”

“How the hell did he get past their security?” I wonder.

“Umm. Guys, look at the date.” Crow’s voice is quiet but weighted.

“Fuck,” Dutch says as I squint to make it out in the bottom left.

“Yesterday?” I snarl.

The knowledge hits like a fist to the gut .

“He must be the one who took the missing files,” Dutch growls, voice dark with barely-contained violence.

“I don’t think so,” Crow says. Dutch looks ready to argue, but Crow adds, “I’m not saying he wouldn’t try, but I’ve seen him around tech, and there’s no way he’d be able to get all the way inside the lab with all that security they’ve got and access their files.

I watched Davina, and she entered two encrypted passwords to get passed all their firewalls. ”

“Okay, but then what the hell was he doing there?” Dutch asks, frustration etched in every tense line of his face.

“Play the rest of the video,” I say. “See where he goes.”

“It ends there,” Dutch says.

Crow leans in and types a few commands.

We wait in silence to see what he can pull up. But a moment later, he scowls and shoves away from the computer. “No, it’s fucking deleted. Just like the other files. And I can’t retrieve it.”

Crow’s gaze flicks to mine, dark eyes blazing. “I think it’s safe to say the Ramsey we thought we knew doesn’t exist. Which means we need to consider he is capable of accessing those files.”

Dutch is right, and we all know it.

An uneasy silence settles around us. My chest burns with rage, thick and suffocating. Ramsey has haunted our every step since his betrayal. Knowing he’s back, stealing the research we desperately need—it’s too much.

I clench my fists, the wolf inside me howling for violence. “We need to find out what he took.”

“Maybe we should interrogate the doc and the hex witch,” Dutch says. “Instead of just putting them on house arrest.”

“As much as Lexi hates the guy, I don’t think she’ll green light torturing him.” Dutch scowls. “Crow, look deeper. Find out who the subjects were. ”

Crow hesitates.

“You okay?” Dutch asks him.

“That’s the thing, I already know who the subject is. Was.” He swallows hard.

“Who?” Dutch asks, leaning closer.

When Crow finally lifts his gaze, pain shines stark and raw in his eyes, like a wound torn wide open. He swallows hard, fighting for composure.

“My mother.” He reaches for the binder, setting it between Dutch and me. “Her name’s here. Sofia.”

I stare at the name, the revelation hitting me like ice water. Crow doesn’t talk about his mother, but I know for a fact he’s always blamed Alvaro for her having a mental break that ultimately led to her ending her own life. “Are you sure?”

He shoves the page toward me, jaw clenched so tight the veins in his neck bulge. There, typed neatly at the top of the lab note: Sofia Solano .

Crow’s mother.

Beside her name, a line of text stands out: Consent for treatment given by Alvaro Martinez.

Crow’s father.

Dutch lets out a low whistle, disbelief coloring his expression.

Crow’s eyes glitter with fury and grief.

I know exactly what he’s feeling—the betrayal from someone meant to protect you.

The helplessness that claws at your sanity.

It reminds me of the helplessness I felt over my mother’s abuse.

The way I tried and failed to protect her for years before I did the only thing I could: tried to kill him myself.

I still feel the guilt over failing at it. Failing her.

Something tells me Crow feels that way now.

“The date is two years before you were born,” Dutch says quietly.

Crow’s fists tremble .

“There’s no end date listed, so…” Dutch trails off, opting to shut up.

Probably a good idea.

Crow’s not processing anything right now from the lost look on his face.

“You want to talk about it?” I ask quietly.

Crow shakes his head sharply, his voice strained. “About the fact that he took it upon himself to sign her life away? To commit her as nothing more than a lab rat in between using her for?—”

He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t have to.

Alvaro’s a fucking monster.

Dutch rubs his jaw, staring at Crow sympathetically. “Uh, I don’t mean to… I mean, shit, I don’t want to make it worse, but… If they experimented on your mom during her pregnancy... does that mean you have the LAG gene too?”

I send him a look, trying to convey SHUT UP.

Crow’s fists curl tighter, his voice a deadly rasp. “I don’t know. Some of the files are missing.” He looks at me, his eyes shining with violence. Urgent, desperate violence. “He needs to answer for what he did.”

The raw agony in his voice sends a stab through my heart. “Those answers won’t bring her back,” I warn.

He shakes his head, the movements jerky, unsettled. “He let them experiment on her, and it killed her in the end. I need to know why. I need to hear him admit what he’s done.”

I can smell his wolf on him from here. Crow’s rarely out of control, but right now, the rage simmering beneath his skin is a tangible thing, threatening to consume him.

“Listen to me,” I say, pushing to my feet and leveling him with a steady gaze. “We will confront him, I promise you. But we can’t afford rash moves. My father will come for us the moment we move on your father. It would be war.”

Crow’s breathing is uneven, nostrils flaring as he fights for control. “You can’t expect me to do nothing, Grey. Not after this.”

“I’m not asking for nothing,” I reply carefully. “I’m asking you to trust me. We’ll handle it together. Smart. Precise. Controlled.”

The tension stretches, brittle and electric. Crow’s eyes flicker with indecision, pain written plainly across his face. Finally, he exhales, a ragged, defeated sound. “Fine. But when the time comes, that fucker is mine.”

“Agreed,” I say firmly.

Crow gives a sharp nod, retreating into silence. The hurt etched deep into his features lingers like smoke after a fire, raw and choking.

Dutch clears his throat. “We need to track Ramsey down. Whatever he stole—it matters enough to risk coming back here. And if I had to guess, I’d say it involves the experiments on Lexi since I don’t see anything about her in the files we have.”

“A lot of my mom’s records are missing too,” Crow adds.

“Do you think he plans to sell the info to Vincenzo in exchange for his place at the table?” Dutch asks.

“Fuck,” I say because, yeah, I do think that.

“It’s all he cared about when Franco shot his old man,” Dutch adds.

“I know.”

It all comes back to my father—the puppet master pulling strings from the shadows, determined to control the pack through Lexi. Through Ramsey. Through me. Anger boils beneath my skin, a familiar burn.

Before I can speak, my phone buzzes loudly. Mia’s name flashes on the screen.

“What is it?” I ask immediately.

“Do you know anything about a meeting between Lexi and your old man?” Mia’s voice is clipped .

Alarm bells go off at the urgency in her tone.

“No. Why?”

“Because he just arrived, and Lexi allowed him through the gate.”

The idea of my father alone with Lexi right now sends ice rushing through my veins. Lexi’s powerful, but her wolf is unstable. If anything happens to her?—

Dutch stands immediately. Crow tosses the binder down and heads for the door.

“We’re coming,” I tell Mia, voice raw with restrained rage. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Mia mutters darkly. “But hurry.”

She hangs up.

Crow meets my gaze, his own pain momentarily set aside. “I’ll drive.”

I nod tightly, forgetting about the research and Ramsey and everything else. All that matters now is getting to Lexi.

We rush from the warehouse, the heat of the afternoon sun leaving a layer of sweat on my brow.

The streets blur past in a haze as Crow drives, my heart hammering relentlessly.

Lexi’s face fills my mind, her haunted eyes and stubborn pride.

I promised to keep her safe. It’s why I claimed her, married her, moved in with her at Franco’s fucking house of all places.

Yet, despite everything, she’s still vulnerable.

Still at the mercy of my father. A man I can’t seem to protect the women I love from, no matter how hard I try.

“Grey?” Crow glances at me from the driver’s seat, his eyes dark with worry.

I look down to see my veins practically glowing beneath my skin. My wolf is writhing inside me, and the voice—the one that sounds a lot like Franco—whispers at me that I’ll never make it in time to save her.

My jaw clenches, my voice scraping out harshly. “Drive faster. ”

I stare out the window, fists tight in my lap.

If my father hurts her, he won’t have to come for me. Losing her will rip out my fucking heart and render me lifeless the moment she leaves this world. The only piece that has ever mattered on this board is the queen.