Page 20 of Jagger’s Remorse (Iron Veins MC #1)

"More than fair, considering the alternative is your head in a box to Eduardo." I turn to leave, pause at the door. "Oh, and Hector? If this is a setup, if you've warned them we're coming? I'll let Eduardo get creative with your death. Understand?"

He nods frantically.

Outside, Poncho whistles low. "That was cold-blooded."

"That was nothing."

"You believe him?" Mouse asks. "About Sombra taking the shipment?"

"Yeah. He was too scared to lie." I mount my bike carefully. "But Eduardo already knew."

"What?"

"This was never about retrieving product. It was about seeing if I could lead. If you two would follow." I start the engine. "Congratulations, you passed."

"We passed?" Poncho sounds incredulous. "What kind of fucked up test?—"

"The kind Eduardo specializes in." I pull out my phone, dial Eduardo. He answers on the first ring.

"Report."

"Sombra has the shipment. Warehouse in Redding. We can retrieve it, but I'll need more men."

"Or," his voice carries amusement, "you could accept the loss and punish the Mendozas for failing to protect what was ours."

And there it is. The real test.

"The Mendozas are small-time. Killing them gains us nothing." I keep my voice steady. "But hitting Sombra sends a message. Shows them Iron Veins protects Sinaloa interests."

"Interesting choice. And what of young Hector?"

"Owes us fifty extra kilos for the inconvenience. He'll pay. Fear is excellent motivation."

"Indeed it is." I can hear his smile. "But collection requires consequences. Someone must bleed for this failure."

"Who did you have in mind?"

"I hear one of your bikers has been skimming. Blade, I believe?"

My blood chills. Of course he knows. Eduardo always knows.

"If there's a thief in our ranks, I'll handle it."

"See that you do. Personally. I want proof of death."

"Understood."

"Good. Oh, and mija ? This time, make sure the death is real. I'd hate to discover another... performance."

The line goes dead.

"Shit," Mouse mutters. "He knows about Blade?"

So… this means that Mouse knows about Blade, too.

What the fuck is going on?

"Eduardo knows everything." I pocket the phone. "Let's go."

The ride back is silent, each of us lost in thought.

At the compound, I find Jagger in the garage, working on his bike. He looks up when we roll in, relief flickering across his face. "How'd it go?"

"Eduardo wants Blade dead. Says he's been skimming. Mouse knows something about it."

Jagger's hands still. "What the fuck?"

"Let's find out why he’s doing it."

We find Blade in his room, counting cash. He goes white when he sees us. "VP. Scarlett. I was just?—"

"Stealing?" I finish. "Yeah, we noticed."

The money scatters as he jerks back. "I can explain?—"

"Then do it. Fast. Because Eduardo wants your head, and I'm running out of reasons not to give it to him."

He breaks. Completely.

"It's my mom. She's got cancer. Insurance won't cover the experimental treatment. I just... I needed the money."

"How much?" Jagger asks.

"Thirty grand. Over six months. I kept track, was gonna pay it back?—"

"No, you weren't." I sit across from him. "You were gonna keep stealing until someone noticed. Until this moment."

"Are you gonna kill me?"

I study him. Young, maybe twenty-five. Desperate. Scared.

Exactly the kind of person Eduardo loves to break.

"Your mother. What kind of cancer?"

"Pancreatic. Stage three."

Fuck. Same as Jagger's mom.

"Show me the medical bills."

He scrambles for a folder, hands shaking. I review them. All legitimate. All devastating.

"Please," he whispers. "I'll leave. Disappear. Just... let me say goodbye to her first."

"Eduardo wants video proof of your death," I say conversationally. "Very specific. He's testing me."

Blade goes gray. "Oh God?—"

"But," I continue, "Eduardo's never been good at details. Leaves that to people like me."

Jagger catches on first. "You want to fake it."

"I want to make it real enough that Eduardo believes it." I look at Blade. "Question is, how much pain can you take?"

"To stay alive? To see my mom?" His jaw sets. "Whatever it takes."

"Good answer."

Two hours later, we're in the warehouse. Raven's there, along with Doc.

"This is insane," Doc says for the fifth time. "You want me to hurt him enough to look fatal but not actually kill him?"

"You've done it before."

"In combat situations, not?—"

"This is combat," I interrupt. "Just a different kind of war."

I've got the camera set up, angle perfect to catch everything while hiding what needs hiding.

"Ready?" I ask Blade.

He's stripped to the waist, already sweating. "No. But do it anyway."

"Raven, you sure about this?"

She nods. "Boy's mom is dying. We don't punish family for that." She looks at me. "Besides, you vouch for him. That's enough."

The trust in her voice hits harder than any bullet.

"Okay. Blade, this is going to hurt. A lot. But you stay conscious, stay vocal. Eduardo needs to hear you suffer."

"Understood."

I start recording.

"Blade Thompson," I say clearly. "You've been found guilty of stealing from the Iron Veins. The punishment is death."

"Please," he starts, and it's not all acting. "I'm sorry. I'll pay it back?—"

I hit him. Hard. Blood sprays from his nose.

The next twenty minutes are brutal. I work him over like the trained professional I am, making sure every blow shows on camera.

Doc guides me—where to hit for maximum visual impact, minimum actual damage.

But it has to look real.

Blood. Screams. Begging that becomes very real very fast.

"Please," Blade sobs, and I know he's not acting anymore. "Please just kill me."

"Soon," I promise, hating myself. "Eduardo wants suffering first."

Three ribs. His left eye swells shut. Blood everywhere, looking worse than it is thanks to Doc's strategic cuts.

Finally, I pull my gun.

"Any last words?"

"Tell... tell my mom..." He's crying now, snot and blood mixing. "Tell her I'm sorry."

I aim for his chest, just left of his heart.

The angle's perfect—camera will catch the impact but not the precision.

"Goodbye, Blade."

I fire.

He jerks, screams, goes still.

Blood pools beneath him, spreading fast.

His breathing goes shallow, then stops.

I keep recording for another thirty seconds, then shut it off.

"Now," I say.

Doc rushes in, already working.

The bullet went exactly where I aimed—through and through, missing everything vital by millimeters.

"He's in shock," Doc reports. "But he'll live."

"Good." I look at Raven. "Can you?—?"

"Already arranged. Safe house in Oregon. He'll disappear clean until we deal with your uncle."

"Good, and thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." She helps Doc load Blade onto a gurney. "This only works if Eduardo buys it."

"He'll buy it." I hold up the camera. "I've gotten very good at selling him what he wants to see."

They wheel Blade out to a van.

He's unconscious but breathing.

He'll wake up far from here, with enough money to take care of his mom and a new identity to keep him safe until things are dealt with in Redwood.

"That was brutal," Jagger says quietly.

"That was something I needed to do."

"You're bleeding." He touches my shoulder where the wound reopened.

"Worth it." I lean against him, suddenly exhausted. "One more person who doesn't die for Eduardo's games."

"How many more times can we do this? Fake deaths, hidden rebels. Eventually he'll figure it out."

"Maybe. Or maybe by then, it won't matter."

"What do you mean?"

I send the video to Eduardo, then look up at Jagger. "He keeps calling me mija , treating me like I'm his only family"

"So?"

"So heirs inherit. And Eduardo has a lot to leave behind."

Understanding dawns in his eyes. "You want to take over Sinaloa."

"I want to transform it. Through the Iron Veins.

Through us." I touch his face. "Think about it. No more tribute. No more tests. No more choosing between family and survival. With me leading Sinaloa, the club can be in a better position than ever, and it will prove that I’m on the club’s side once and for all. "

"That's... ambitious."

"It’s what needs to be done."

I pull up Eduardo's response.

A simple:

Well done, mija.

"He's grooming me," I continue. "Has been all along. Not just as an enforcer, but as his replacement. He has no wife, no children. Just me."

"And when he figures out you're playing him?"

"He won't. Because I'm not playing. I'm becoming exactly what he wants—cold, calculating, willing to do whatever it takes." I smile, sharp and dangerous. "He'll never see the knife coming because he'll be too proud of how well he sharpened it."

Jagger pulls me closer. "This is insane, dangerous, and fucking crazy."

"Everything we do is dangerous, Jagger."

"This is different. You're talking about killing?—"

"A man who ordered my father's death. Who's tortured and killed hundreds. Who uses people like chess pieces." My voice hardens. "Yes, I'm going to kill him. But first, I'm going to become him. And then I'm going to be better."

"How long?"

"Six months. Maybe a year. Long enough to cement my position, to make sure the transition is clean." I meet his eyes. "Can you wait that long?"

"I've waited five years. What's one more?"

I kiss him, tasting promise and patience.

"When I take over," I whisper against his mouth, "The Iron Veins will control the largest cartel operation in North America. We'll be untouchable."

"And until then?"

"Until then, we play our parts. You, the loyal VP. Me, the devoted goddaughter." I pull back. "Think the club can handle that?"

"For that payoff? They'll handle anything."

"Good. Because tomorrow, we will hit that Sombra warehouse. Show them Iron Veins protects its interests."

"With your injuries?—"

"I'll manage. I always do."

He helps me back to our room, tends my reopened wound with gentle hands. "You know what the scariest part is?" he says, taping fresh bandages in place.

"What?"

"I think you can actually pull this off. Take over Sinaloa. Rule Northern California." He looks up at me. "You're not the college girl I left alive five years ago."

"No. That girl's dead. You killed her."

"And what rose from her ashes?"

I think about it. About everything I've become, everything I'm becoming.

"A dragon," I finally say. "One that's done playing with matches when she could burn down the world."

"That's my girl."

"Always."

My phone buzzes.

Raven:

Package delivered safely. Mom's getting treatment tomorrow.

I show Jagger. "Blade's safe."

"Another life saved from Eduardo's games."

"For now." I set the phone aside. "But Eduardo's right about one thing. Someone always has to bleed. The trick is making sure it's the right someone."

"And who's the right someone?"

"Anyone who threatens what's mine." I pull him down beside me. "My club. My family. My man."

"Possessive."

"Learned from the best."

We lie there in the gathering dark, planning a future built on blood and power.

It should feel wrong. Instead, it feels like destiny.

Eduardo wanted to create a weapon.

He succeeded.

He just never considered that weapons can turn on their makers.

Six months, I think. Maybe less.

And then the little dragon becomes the queen of her own empire.