Page 32

CHAPTER

TWENTY-NINE

Cam

The smell of coffee fills the safehouse kitchen, sharp and familiar. I cradle the mug in my hands, letting the warmth seep into my fingers. Debbie sits across from me, her legs propped up on a chair, her rifle leaning against the table like it’s an extra limb.

"First, you killed The Basher and didn't call me."

"I know, but – "

"Then you killed her two bodyguards and still didn't tell me."

"Right, but – "

"You kidnapped her. Lost her. She found Rooney and you threatened him and ran off."

"I can explain – "

"And Paul Saari lent you an underground bunker shelter? Do you know every billionaire on the planet personally?"

"It's a long story, but basically, yes –"

"And you brought her into the belly of the beast, to the organ auction? Cam, what the hell? All of it." She throws her hands up in the air, voice rising. "You're a lone wolf and a live wire and a brick shy of a load all rolled up in one."

"You forgot to mention expert hacker, masterful escape artist, and exceptional lover."

"AND AN ARROGANT ASSHOLE."

Breathing hard, she's pissed, but my last joke has the corner of her mouth twitching.

"TINSA doesn't have a billion to lend me to buy a woman with perfect organs for transplantation," I say casually, like we're talking about a paperclip shortage.

"That's because TINSA doesn't exist," she grunts.

Gian is beside her, sipping his coffee like it’s a fine wine. He always did like to pretend he was too classy for this kind of life, but here he is, hiding in a safehouse with the rest of us.

“Your coffee will get cold if you keep sipping it like that,” Debbie mutters, side-eyeing Gian.

He raises an eyebrow, calm as ever. “Some of us enjoy the finer things, even in chaos.”

I snort into my coffee, shaking my head. “This isn’t a French café, Gian. It’s a hiding place in the middle of nowhere. Just drink the damn coffee.”

Before Gian can respond with one of his signature smug remarks, the sound of a car engine cuts through the quiet morning. I set my mug down, my body tensing for half a second, before Debbie waves me off.

“Relax,” she says, stretching her arms like she’s been waiting all morning. “Your delivery is here.”

“What delivery?” I ask, standing up and heading toward the door.

Debbie grins. "Not that you deserve this, you jerk, but it's happening no matter what now."

She just tilts her head toward the window.

I follow her gaze, and my heart does a little flip when I see the car pulling up outside.

The back door swings open, and out bounds Butter, my golden retriever, all floppy ears and wagging tail.

Right behind him, tiny but fierce, is Winnie, Paigelynn’s teacup Chihuahua.

Behind them comes Lauren, the agent Debbie told me took in Butter.

I barely get the door open before Butter charges in, his tail wagging so hard it could double as a chopper blade. He skids on the floor, almost taking out the coffee table, before launching himself at me.

“Whoa, easy!” I laugh, catching him as his paws slam into my chest. He’s big, heavy, and absolutely losing his mind. His tongue is everywhere—my face, my hands, my shirt. “Okay, okay, I missed you too, buddy!”

"They love their owners no matter how big a jerk they are," Lauren says casually.

"Hi to you, too," I shoot back as Debbie grins at Lauren. I get a chilly lemon face in response.

Got it. Take down a billionaire organ broker cartel and I'm a hero.

Ditch my dog to save an innocent woman being bred for organs and I'm in the...

Doghouse.

Winnie, on the other hand, trots in like she owns the place. She pauses in the middle of the room, her tiny nose sniffing the air, before letting out a high-pitched bark that’s way too confident for a dog her size.

She zeroes in on Gian’s coffee cup and yaps again, like she’s demanding her own breve cortado with a side of rawhide.

“Is that thing broken?” Gian mutters, holding his mug up higher as if she’s going to leap for it.

“She’s perfect,” I say, grinning as Winnie struts over to Butter, who’s still trying to lick my face off. She barks once, sharp and commanding, and Butter actually stops for a second, tilting his head at her like he’s confused.

Debbie watches the whole thing, shaking her head. “How does a dog that small boss around a dog that big?”

“She’s got attitude,” I say, rubbing Butter’s ears. “Right, big guy?”

Butter barks, his tail wagging even harder now, and Winnie barks right back at him, like she’s keeping him in line. I glance at Debbie and Gian, who are both watching with varying degrees of amusement. Lauren's pouring herself a cup of coffee, shaking her head.

Butter, in all his excitement, decides to grab a dish towel off the counter and parade it around like it’s a prize. Winnie, not to be outdone, chases after him, her tiny legs moving at lightning speed.

“Do they ever stop?” Gian asks, sipping his coffee like this is a circus he never signed up for.

“They've only met once before, so this is all new to me,” I say, laughing as Butter knocks over a chair in his quest to escape Winnie. She leaps onto the fallen chair like she’s conquered a mountain, barking triumphantly.

Debbie leans back in her chair, smirking. “They’re a lot like you and Paigelynn, you know.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How so?”

Debbie shrugs. “Big guy with a lot of energy, and the tiny one who’s actually in charge.”

I laugh, shaking my head, but I can’t argue with her. Butter and Winnie are chaos, but they’re our chaos. I glance toward the hallway, where Paigelynn is still sleeping. She hasn’t seen them yet, but I know Winnie will make sure she gets a proper wake-up call soon.

“Speaking of chaos,” I say, turning back to Debbie and Gian, “what’s the word on the compound?”

Debbie’s smirk fades, replaced by her usual no-nonsense expression.

“It’s a mess,” she says, setting her mug down.

“The Mother’s dead. Dominic’s gone. Niall Donegal’s trying to hold what’s left of the network together, but it’s barely hanging on.

Investors in Synergy900 are pissed. It wasn't enough for these billionaire families to form a company. They had to scam investors, too. And they’ve lost almost all their muscle.

No Makiah Rooney, no Dominic. Gian and Sandor are with us now. They’re down to scraps like Cormac.”

“And Paigelynn’s gone,” Gian adds, his voice calm but pointed. “Without her, they have no heart donor for Angelina." He glances at me.

"I know. I was backup."

His face shows the smallest flicker of compassion. I appreciate it.

"She's dead anyhow," Debbie points out.

"No breeder," Gian continues. "Their entire plan is unraveling.”

Lauren glances at me, and a degree or two of pissed-offedness dissolves.

“The other girls, though. Paigelynn, the redhead who died, and the two others – there are more. They have some left.”

I nod, the weight of it sinking in. We’ve done more damage to the cabal than I ever thought possible. But the thought of Niall Donegal stepping up as their new leader sends a chill down my spine. The Donegals are as ruthless as they come, and I know Niall won’t go down without a fight.

He's old. Sensible. Sharp as a tack. But without the right new organs, he'll die soon. Who will take over? Ian's dead. Cormac's a drunk.

Power vacuums destabilize systems. Quite often, the person who wins is the most volatile.

“How long do we have before they fully regroup?” I ask.

Debbie shrugs. “Hard to say. Niall’s scrambling to pick up the pieces, but he doesn’t have the manpower to enforce anything. Right now, it’s chaos. Everyone’s looking out for themselves. We don’t know what’s happening to the women they kidnapped.”

“And the compound?” I press.

“Still burning,” Debbie says simply. “You and Paigelynn hit them harder than they were ready for. Fires everywhere. People running. It’s a full-on collapse.”

I let out a breath, my chest tightening. "That was Sandor's idea. Little fires everywhere. Scatter their attention."

She looks at Sandor and gives an approving nod.

Gian steps closer, his voice low but steady. “We’ve bought ourselves time,” he says. “Time to figure out our next move. Time to hit them where it really hurts.”

I nod, but the anger still simmers beneath the surface.

Dominic is gone, but his shadow lingers.

His lies, his control, the way he twisted everything.

I glance down at Butter, who’s finally dropped the dish towel and is now lying at my feet, his tail thumping against the floor.

Winnie has claimed a spot on top of the fallen chair, looking smug as ever.

For a moment, the weight of it all feels a little lighter. The dogs, the safehouse, Paigelynn still sleeping in the next room—it’s a small reminder that we’ve won something.

We’ve made it this far.

“What’s next?” I ask, my voice quiet but firm.

Debbie leans back in her chair, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “We expose them,” she says. “All of them. The Donegals, the Luisis, Santinos, every billionaire who bought into this sick network. We take the evidence, we make it public, and we let the world see what they’ve done.”

Gian nods. “It won’t be easy,” he says. “But we have what we need. The dossier. The proof. It’s enough to start a fire they won’t be able to put out.”

"And then there's Paul Saari," Debbie adds. My gut tightens. "He was behind most of this, wasn't he?"

Sandor and Gian look at me. "Paul who?" I half joke.

Debbie isn't buying it. "Spill."

"You know I can't talk about a lot of it."

"This place is clean. If you can't talk here, where can you talk?"

I shake my head. "Let's just say this: we knew we had to bring Paigelynn to auction to get inside the inner circle and do what we did while they were all present.

It was the only way to take them down. And that meant I needed a billion bucks.

Not many people in this world who both wanted to bring down the cabal and had the money to help me infiltrate on that level. "

"It's genius," Debbie whispers, then hits the back of my head. "But you fucking lied to me."

"Had to."

"I know. I understand why. I don't have to like it." She rubs her eyes, nodding while thinking. "Fine. Saari's a silent ally. He must want what we want."

“Let’s finish this,” I say, my voice steady.

Butter barks in agreement, his tail wagging like crazy. Winnie yaps right back, her tiny body brimming with energy.

I can’t help but smile, the weight on my chest easing just a little.

For the first time in a long time, the future feels like something we can fight for.