Page 9

Jagger

" Y ou’re what?”

We were sitting in the dimly lit church on our compound, the heavy scent of burning wax and dust mingling in the air. Tension sat thick between the wooden pews, pressing in on us like an invisible weight. Preacher hadn’t had the chance to talk to Kyle yet, not with all the chaos we’d been dealing with, and now she was dropping this bombshell on us.

“No fucking way.”

Kyle stood in front of me, hands on her hips, her eyes blazing with defiance. The fire in them told me she was ready for a fight.

“Look,” she snapped, her voice low but edged with steel. “These people are part of this bullshit. All I have to do is go to this gathering, blend in, get information, and get out. It’s as simple as that, and also something we’ve all done a million times.”

I shook my head, the knot in my chest tightening. “And what if they recognize you? What if they decide you’re the one they want to send fuck knows where?”

The room felt like it was closing in. I glanced at Preacher, watching him battle with this just as much as I was. It had been only a couple of days since we’d seen the shape Piper came back in, her body broken and bruised, and Bo taking a bullet and disappearing. This was real—it was life and death—and she wanted to walk right into it?

“They won’t,” Kyle insisted, her voice sharp with frustration. “These are the grunts and the errand boys. And I’m a professional, Jagger.” She stepped closer, her chin tilting up defiantly. “I’ve done this a million times.”

I shot up so fast my chair clattered to the ground behind me. “I don’t care if you’ve done it a million times. You could get fucking hurt!” My voice came out as a roar, sharp enough to cut through the tense silence.

The others flinched at my outburst, a few sucking in quiet breaths, but I didn’t care. This wasn’t some game.

Preacher finally broke the silence. “Go with her, Jagger.”

Kyle and I both snapped our heads toward him, disbelief flashing between us.

“No fucking way,” Kyle protested, shaking her head before I even had the chance to say anything.

“I’m in.”

I didn’t wait for her argument. I turned on my heel and walked out of the room, my pulse hammering in my ears. I needed space and needed to clear my head. Something about this felt wrong, like a whisper in the back of my mind telling me this was a mistake. But Kyle was determined, and if she was going in, then I was making sure she got out of it alive.

My jaw ached from clenching it as we approached the building. The high-end cars lined up along the street were a parade of wealth and corruption. Bentleys, Lamborghinis, Rolls-Royces—it screamed money, power, and bad intentions.

Duke had gotten us a Bentley SUV to blend in, and now, seeing the scene in front of us, I understood why. This wasn’t just a casual meetup, this was going to be a fucking production.

Kyle walked beside me, her fingers laced through mine, her demeanor the picture of calm. Her other hand casually brushed through her hair as if the only thing on her mind was whether it was still perfectly styled.

I still wasn’t used to the sight of her like this—long brunette wig, sleek and straight, and a red dress that clung to every inch of her like a second skin. When she’d walked downstairs earlier, none of us had recognized her. She’d smirked at our reactions. “Told you I knew what I was doing.”

And she did, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

Duke had done a number on me too. A goatee was glued to my face, my hair darkened, dark brown contacts covering my usual eye color. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. It was unsettling as hell.

As we approached the entrance, the first red flag was waiting for us—the security. They were built like brick shit houses, their expensive suits barely containing their bulk. All of them were visibly armed, alert, and clearly not the type to hesitate. A glance upward as we made our way from the car confirmed it—six men stationed on the rooftop, eyes sharp, rifles slung over their shoulders.

Kyle had told me to park toward the back to scope the place out. I hated admitting it, but it was a smart call.

“Relax,” she whispered as we climbed the stairs.

That was easy for her to say. I was stuffed into a dark gray suit, my red tie matching her dress. I’d never worn anything like this in my life, and it felt like a goddamn costume. But apparently, if you’re trafficking people, drugs, or weapons, you do it dressed like a fucking lawyer. Hypocritical bastards.

The guard at the door held out his hand. “ Invitación .”

Kyle, ever the resourceful one, slid a small piece of card from the top of her dress, the movement slow, deliberate. His eyes followed the motion, lingering too long on her cleavage, making my fingers flex and my blood simmer.

Kyle squeezed my hand, a silent reminder to stay cool.

The guard barely looked at the invitation, too focused on her. He gave a nod and held out his arm, waving us inside. But as we passed, his hand subtly brushed over Kyle’s ass.

Motherfucker.

“I’m going to kill him,” I muttered under my breath, my hand curling into a fist.

Kyle pressed against me, her lips brushing my ear like she was whispering something sweet. But what she said had nothing to do with affection.

“I’ll leave a piece of him for you,” she promised, her tone dark, deadly. “But right now, you need to focus. Everything else can wait.”

Her fingers touched the large necklace hanging around her throat. It had a hidden camera in it that was feeding everything back to Data, Preacher, and Duke.

Good, I hope they were taking notes and had seen what he’d just done to her. There was no way they’d let him get away with that if, for some reason, I didn’t get to him first.

“Let’s get a drink,” she said, her voice slipping into a sultry tone.

We moved toward the bar, where rows of crystal glasses gleamed under the chandeliers, filled with golden liquid.

Kyle let out a low whistle. “$450 a bottle,” she murmured.

Disgust curled in my stomach. The sheer amount of wealth and indulgence in this room was nauseating, made worse by the fact that it was all funded by human suffering.

A voice cut through the noise behind us. “Hello, there.”

I turned, and the moment my eyes landed on the man, something flickered in my memory.

“I am Cristóbal,” he said smoothly, a polite, practiced smile on his lips. “And this is Luana.”

The woman beside him looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here, and suddenly, I knew exactly where I’d seen him before.

Remembering the brief Duke had drilled into us, I forced my voice into a smooth, practiced calm.

“I’m Aaron Jones,” I said, extending my hand toward Cristóbal, even though every instinct in my body rebelled against the gesture.

His fingers clamped around mine, his grip tightening in an attempt to assert dominance. His eyes locked onto mine, challenging, waiting for a flicker of weakness, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction. My expression remained neutral, my muscles loose, my posture relaxed, and on the outside I looked completely unaffected.

A flicker of something crossed his face—confusion, maybe irritation. And then more of the brief I’d read on him hit me—this was one of the sick bastards who ran a brothel in El Salvador. A low-tier scumbag who thought he was a kingpin when, in reality, he was nothing but an amoeba in an ocean of monsters. The Ghosts had raided his operation last year, dragging a six-year-old girl out before the worst could happen. Not all the victims had been so lucky, but the survivors had been placed with the right people, given therapy, a chance at something better.

The fact that Cristóbal was still standing here, sipping expensive champagne like he hadn’t been responsible for all that suffering, made my blood turn to acid. Then his gaze shifted to Kyle. Something flickered in his eyes. Recognition? Interest?

No, no fucking way.

Before I could react, Kyle stepped in, closing the distance between them like she was walking into a lover’s embrace, and kissed his cheek.

“Daisy,” she purred, her voice low, sultry—the same tone I was used to hearing in the bedroom.

My fists clenched involuntarily. Any other time, that sound would have me pushing her against a wall, but right now, hearing her use it onhimhad a red haze creeping into my vision.

Cristóbal’s eyes stayed glued to her chest.

What was it with motherfuckers tonight?

“Daisy…” he repeated slowly, rolling the name over his tongue like he was tasting it. “The pleasure is mine.”

He lifted her hand, as if to kiss it like he was some kind of refined gentleman, but before his lips could touch her skin, a loud commotion broke out behind us. Two men stood nose to nose in the far corner, their bodies rigid with tension. One was Hispanic, the other Middle Eastern, both of them draped in gold jewelry like it was supposed to make them important.

Cristóbal chuckled, the sound light, dismissive. “Ah, they are always so hot-headed and eager,” he mused. Then he turned back to us, eyes flicking to Kyle again. “If you’ll excuse me,” his lips curled in something that wasn’t quite a smile. His gaze slid over Kyle one last time, “ Daisy .”

I didn’t move until he was a few steps away, then I reached for Kyle, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her into me, shielding her from the eyes that had lingered too long. Her body stayed relaxed, unconcerned, like she hadn’t just been inspected like a piece of meat at a butcher shop.

I bent my head to her ear.

“What the fuck was that?”I growled lowly, reaching for the glass of champagne we hadn’t touched earlier. I wasn’t planning to drink it, I wouldn’t trust anything in this place, but appearances mattered so I was going to hold it.

Kyle’s response came with a teasing smile as she lifted her own glass. “I was part of the bust.” She sipped delicately, as if we weren’t having this conversation at all. “If I’d hesitated, it would’ve looked suspicious.” Her eyes flicked toward mine. “I’m here to play a part, Jagger, and that’s what I’m doing.”

My grip tightened around the glass, but I kept my face unreadable.

Duke had drilled the plan into us. Get in, get photos of as many of these fuckers as possible, and get out. To blend in, I was playing the role of a buyer, and Kyle was my arm candy—my ‘flavor of the night.’

I glanced around the room. Most of the women here were dressed like Kyle—tight dresses, killer heels, makeup applied like war paint. But some weren’t as lucky. Some were in nothing but lingerie,collars fastened around their necks, chains leading them like fucking dogs.

One of the men from the earlier fight—the Middle Eastern one—sat now with two women kneeling behind him, their heads bowed to the ground. Their backs were lined with fresh, raw stripes, the skin welted and broken.

A slow, boiling rage built in my gut, and I forced myself to look away.

I had a job to do.

Kyle must’ve noticed the tension in my shoulders because she leaned in. “Do you think he recognized me?” she murmured.

I studied her, the way she kept her expression light, unreadable, then I looked back toward where Cristóbal had disappeared. “I don’t know.”

Her small shrug did nothing to ease my worry.

For the next hour, we worked the room, meeting people, exchanging pleasantries, forcing conversation with the worst kind of filth. They spoke freely,toofreely, as if they believed they were untouchable. They bragged about their operations, their money, their influence. I hoped like hell Duke and the others were getting this, because I didn’t know if I could do this again.

Then, finally, after what felt like ten hours, Kyle gave the signal that we could leave. I exhaled slowly, preparing to get the hell out of this place, but before we could take a step, Cristóbal reappeared, this time with the Middle Eastern man from earlier.

“Ah, Aaron and Daisy,” Cristóbal greeted, that false charm sliding easily back into place. “This is Arshad Fathizadeh. Arshad, this is Aaron Jones and Daisy…” He paused, a smirk playing at his lips. “I don’t believe I got your last name, sweet Daisy.”

Something about the way he said it, the way his gazelingered,sent every alarm bell ringing.

Kyle didn’t miss a beat. “Trent,” she answered smoothly, extending a hand toward Fathizadeh. “Mr. Fathizadeh.” Her voice was softer now, breathy, almost purring.

Cristóbal’s eyes didn’t leave her, and I forced myself to stay still as the bastardreached out and tucked a strand of hair over her shoulder. The moment his fingers brushed her skin, my entire body tensed. He must’ve noticed, because his eyes flicked to me, amusement dancing in them.

Fathizadeh took Kyle’s hand—but he didn’t let go.

“We were actually just leaving,” I interrupted smoothly, stepping in and sliding an arm around Kyle’s waist. “Daisy had a few… ideas .” I let the word drip with implication, smirking. “So, we must sadly leave early.”

Cristóbal stayed where he was, too close, his eyes still locked on Kyle.

Fathizadeh chuckled. “Yes, one cannot pass up suggestions from a woman as beautiful as Ms. Trent.”

His eyeslingered,this time deliberately. First on her chest, then lower. I bit down so hard my jaw ached.

Kyle, ever the professional, only smiled. “It was a pleasure meeting you both tonight,” she purred, tilting her head. “I do hope we see each other again.”

Fathizadeh’s expression shifted, his gaze darkening with interest.

I tightened my grip on Kyle, and then, finally, we turned and started to walk away. I didn’t relax until we were out of that room, and even then, something told me this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

“Mm, yes, sweet Daisy. It has been a pleasure meeting you both, and I have no doubt we will meet again very soon.”

Cristóbal’s voice was smooth as he spoke to our backs, almost lazy, but there was something underneath it now. Something sharper, darker, and it sent a new wave of tension crawling up my spine.

Then he turned his gaze on me.“Aaron, make sure you keep her close.”

This time, there was no mistaking it—a threat, laced with something menacing, something possessive. His eyes burned with something I didn’t fucking like, and my fingers twitched with the urge to break his fucking jaw.

Instead, I gave him a slow, measured nod, took Kyle’s hand, and guided her away, each step controlled despite the violent energy flooding my veins.

As we moved through the parking lot, I kept my grip on Kyle, keeping her close, my senses on high alert. The people milling around acted casual, but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe it. Every instinct told me we were being watched.

When we reached the car without interference, I exhaled, my body itching to get the hell out of there. My fingers reached for the handle, but Kyle’s hand shot out, stopping me as she tapped her necklace.

Fuck.

The Bentley’s lights flashed as it unlocked, butnot from me.

Right, the protocol. The teams had been watching the car from their screens, running security in real-time. Once Kyle tapped her necklace, a silent signal, they’d scanned for any tampering before unlocking it remotely. I’d been so caught up ingetting the fuck out, I almost skipped a step that could’ve gotten us killed.

Kyle didn’t say anything, but I knew she noticed.

I clenched my jaw and got in, the moment we pulled away the anger inside meexploded.

“God fucking damn it, Kyle!” I slammed my fist against the wheel, making the car swerve slightly before I corrected it. She barely flinched, staring grimly out the windshield. “He knows who you are!”

Her fingers tightened around her dress, but her voice remained even. “It appears that way.”

“Appears that way?” My disbelief came out sharp.

Before she could answer, the car’s Bluetooth system rang, and Preacher’s name flashed across the dashboard.

Kyle sighed and hitAnswerbefore I could. “We know,” was all she said.

“Yeah, we figured as much,” Preacher’s voice was tight with anger. “You’ve also gotthree tails.”

I flicked my eyes to the mirror.I’d already clocked them because they weren’t being as discreet as they thought, but it made me feel easier that the others were onto them too.

“Yeah,” I muttered, gripping the wheel tighter. Until I had Kyle back behind our gates, I wouldn’t relax.

Then Duke’s voice cut in. “Jagger, I need you to drive like anasshole. I want you to swerve, speed, do whatever you can. At the next gas station, pull over and argue, and, Kyle, you take over the driving after.”

Beside me, Kyle grinned. “I’vealwayswanted to see what one of these can do.”

My foot instinctively pressed on the accelerator in irritation. How the hell was she excited right now? Most of the time, Kyle was level-headed, tactical, deadly serious. But now she wanted to play with the fucking car?

I shook my head but didn’t argue. Instead, Ifollowed Duke’s orders. The second one of the tails got too close, I slammed my foot down on the brake, jerking the wheel to swerve sharply in front of them. The tires screeched, the seatbelt cut into my chest, but the car behind me had to lurch to a halt, nearly getting rear-ended by the others.

Kyle barely blinked, and my frustration burned hotter.She was in fucking danger, and she was acting like this was a game.

A gas station came into view, and my instincts told me to keep going, to stay in control, and not to stop. But Kyle already knew Duke’s plan. If she trusted it, I had to.

I pulled into the lot, yanking the car into a spot before stepping out.

Kyle rounded the front,ready for the show. “You’re fucking drunk!” she snapped loud enough for half the parking lot to hear. “I told you I would drive, you asshole, but you insisted you had to do it because of your precious car. With the way you’re driving, you’re gonna get us fucking killed!”

My brows shot up. Damn, she was going all in. Then, before I could react,she marched up to one of our tails.

What the fuck ?

The guy had pulled in two spots over, his tinted window cracked slightly, and Kyle knocked on itbold as hell. The driver hesitated, but when he rolled it down, shebent over, resting a hand on his shoulder like they were old friends.

She murmured something, getting a nod from him in return. And just like that,she strutted back, making sure to swing her hips.

“I’ve said sorry to the poor man behind us,” she announced loudly, glaring at me. “Now give me the damn keys and get your drunk ass on the other side.”

She didn’t wait for me to do what she’d demanded. Shejust snatchedthe keys, jumped in, tossed them into the cup holder, and hit the ignition. I barely got into the passenger seat before she took off,smooth as hellback onto the highway. Within minutes,our tails repositioned, two on the right, one behind.

Kyle justsmiled, flipping her hair like she was telling me a damn bedtime story. “We’re going to go a little faster and lose our friends.”

Her fingers danced through the air like she wasgossiping, like we weren’tactively being hunted.

“Kyle, I’m not sure?—”

Shepunched the gas, and the Bentleyroaredforward. The two cars flanking us surged to keep up, engines growling, but the one behind stuck close, waiting.

Kyle grinned, then she cut in front of them, nearly clipping one’s bumper.

“Oopsy,” shesang, lifting a delicate hand in mock apology.

The next five minutes werefucking insane. She wove through traffic like she was born for it, cutting sharp, squeezing between cars, playing chicken with every lane. The guys following us weren’t as lucky. The pissed-off drivers she’d just dodged slowed down,boxing them in.

As soon as I saw them fighting to swerve around, Kyle tooka sharp right, killing the lights as we disappeared down a side road. Pitch black, no headlights, just instinct.

I watched what was going on behind us in the rearview mirror, heart hammering. But there was nothing.

Five minutes later, the tension wascrushing me. “Pull over,” I ground out.

Kyle’s hands stayed steady on the wheel. “We’ll be back at the Compound in thirty minutes.”

No, not this time.

“Pull. Over.”

She continued to ignore me, and my pulsespiked, fury curling in my gut, the adrenaline andthe absolute fucking terrorI hadn’t let myself feel until nowhitting all at once. I opened my mouth to demand it again, just as the Bluetooth rang.

Duke’s name flashed across the dash, and I swear I saw red.

“ Motherfucker !” I roared, slamming my fist into the dashboard.

“Jagger.” Duke’s voice came over the speakers, sharp,commanding, no room for argument. “Keep your fucking shit together. You need to get back here ASAP.” That was when I knew for sure, we were fucked. “Kyle, we’re rerouting the traffic cameras. Put your foot down and come straight here.” Then, inpure Duke fashion, he hung up.

Kyle frowned, her lips pressing together as she followed Duke’s orders, driving well above the speed limit with the headlights still off. The engine hummed beneath us, the dark road ahead nothing but a blur as we raced toward the Compound. The tension inside the car was thick, suffocating, and I could feel my own pulse thrumming hard in my ears.

Fifteen minutes, that was all it took to make it back—half the time it should have. The whole time Kyle didn’t speak one word. Then again, neither did I.

By the time she pulled through the Compound gates, the walls looming around us like a fortress, my hands were shaking. Not from fear. Not from adrenaline. From the rage still boiling under my skin, and from the worry twisting my insides into knots. Mainly, it was from the fact that we were supposed to be safe, and yet, someone had known.

As we stepped out of the vehicle, I caught movement ahead—every single Ghost and Knight was outside the main building had their weapons drawn.

Fuck .

“Get in!” Duke’s voice bellowed across the open space.

Kyle didn’t hesitate. She moved fast, too fast for someone in heels, her posture controlled, but I knew her well enough to see the tension threading through her body. I stayed close behind her, glancing over my shoulder every few steps. We may have been inside the walls, but I didn’t trust a damn thing.

I hadn’t forgotten the feeling I’d gotten when we went to retrieve Perry. Someone had tipped off the enemyback then, and it sure as hell looked like someone had tipped them off againtonight.

No one stood out so far because they hadn’t slipped up enough for us to focus on them. Yet .

Then there was Jared, that asshole. He was still here in the Compound. Still setting off every goddamn alarm in my head. I couldn’t say that he was the one leaking our information or if he was just acting off, but there was something about him I didn’t trust.

I clenched my jaw and kept moving. Inside Church, the doors shut behind us with a finality that made my skin itch.

It was just me, Kyle, Preacher, Duke, and Data. What the fuck was going on?

I couldfeel Jagger’s anger. It had been simmering all night, creeping up my spine, and growing hotter with every second we spent in that room. That wasone of the reasons I hadn’t wanted him there in the first place. Jagger didn’t understand the way these people operated—the way theywatched, but I did.

I knew their power plays, the way they pushed and tested boundaries, the silent threats disguised as casual conversation. But what I hadn’t accounted for was Cristóbal Santino being there. He was supposed to be in El Salvador, tied up with amassivedrug shipment. Not at that party.Not staring me down like a predator who just spotted his prey.

The moment he figured out who I was, I’d felt it. Roughly twenty minutes after we first met, I’d caught him looking at me—his posture still, his expression unchanged—but I’d still seen it. The exact second it clicked. His gaze had darkened, and his lips twitched in realization.

ButI never reacted, not once. I’d just smiled at him like I hadn’t noticed a damn thing.

And now, sitting in this room, I was trying to figure out what thefuckto do next.

JAGGER

The silence was suffocating.

“Santino was tipped off.” Data’s voice was flat. Factual.

And I snapped. I shot up from my chair, rage detonating inside me like a goddamn bomb. The chairexplodedagainst the wall, slamming into the dent that Noah had put there before,making the hole even bigger, making the roomshakewith the force of it.

“Sit down, son,” Duke ordered, his voice dropping into thatno-bullshittone.

“Fuck that!” I roared.

My hands clenched into fists as I turned, stalking toward him,fury radiating off me in waves. “You said she’d be safe!”

I got up in his space. I hadneverseen anyone challenge Duke head-on, and a small part of my brain told me I was making adangerous fucking mistake, but I didn’t care. Kyle could have beenkilledtonight because someone hadset her up.

Duke’s jawflexed, his bodycoiled, his patiencethin as razor wire. “Shewould have been,” he ground out, his voicejust as lethal as mine.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, Preacher. His arms were crossed, but his eyes were locked on Kyle. His face was a mix ofanger and something else—something I wasn’t used to seeing from him.

Concern.

Duke’s next words hithard. “Santino got a text attwenty-one-hundred hours.” Silence. “It was a photo of Kyle along with her name, sent from anuntraceable number.” He exhaled slowly, his nostrils flaring. “The only message attached was…‘ this is who you’re looking at .’”

My visionreddened at this information, and Kyle stiffened.

Her fingerscurled into her lap, tight enough to turn her knuckles white.

“Now that just pisses me off,” she muttered, her voice cold.

My blood was still boiling, still rushing too fast, but I forced myself to step back, muscles thrumming like a live wire. Kyle wasin danger, and we definitely had arat in the Compound.

“What do we do now?” she asked, voice clipped.

Duke’s nostrils flared again, hiscomposure cracking for half a second. “I don’t know right now,”he snapped, the frustration thick in his voice.

I felt my breath slow, my mind sharpening past the anger, intosomething else. Strategy. Duke didn’t say“I don’t know”often.Ever. But this wasn’t just a bad situation, it was a fuckingmess.

I shifted, stepping behind Kyle, resting a hand on her shoulder, needing her to know I was there.

Duke exhaled sharply. “But as soon as I do,” he growled, voice like crushed glass, “we’re going to fucking end this shit once and for all.”

Silence, the kind that waslouder than any explosion. Then, Kyle’s lips twitched. It wasn’t a smile, it was something sharper. Deadlier.

“Good,” she said, her voicerazor-edged.

Because whoever had done this was going to fucking regret it.