Page 7 of The Sniper (Club Southside #9)

CHAPTER SEVEN

REYNA

T he glow of her laptop screen illuminated the dimly lit office in the Cerberus headquarters as Reyna hunched over her desk, her fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard. Coffee sat forgotten and cold at her elbow, its sharp, bitter aroma a faint reminder of how long she'd been at this. Hours of sifting through files, cross-referencing names, and piecing together fragmented bits of information had brought her closer to understanding Veda’s connections—and yet the answers still felt just out of reach.

A folder sat open next to her, its contents spread across the desk like the remnants of a broken puzzle. Photos, snippets of emails, bank statements, and notes she’d scrawled in her tight, precise handwriting. At the center of it all was Veda’s face—smiling in some, fierce and commanding in others. This wasn’t just a job. It felt personal now. Someone had targeted Veda, dragged Cerberus into the middle of it, and left a bloody trail daring them to pick up the pieces.

“Come on, Veda,” Reyna muttered under her breath, leaning closer to the screen. “What were you into?”

Her eyes scanned the latest file she’d decrypted—an email chain between Veda and an anonymous account. Technology wasn’t really her thing unless it was tied to a new kind of sniper rifle, but she was doing the best she could with what she had. She’d given everything to the tech gods and was hoping they’d find more than she did.

The messages were coded but not so subtle that she hadn’t been able to dig through some of the top digital layers. They spoke of secrets held in exchange for silence, threats of exposure, and payments funneled discreetly through offshore accounts. Blackmail. The realization settled heavily in her chest. Someone in the BDSM community had been leveraging Veda’s reputation and connections to manipulate others—and it hadn’t ended well.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts, and she glanced up to see Daniels leaning against the frame, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. His dark eyes locked onto hers, steady and calm, but there was an edge to his gaze, something that made her pulse jump even as she pretended not to notice.

Reyna glanced around—it was after hours. “How did you get in here?”

“King gave me a key and a keycard the last time I worked with Cerberus. I figured you’d still be here,” he said, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation. “It’s past midnight. Do you ever sleep?”

“I’ll sleep when we’ve got answers,” Reyna replied, turning her attention back to the screen. She heard the door close behind him, his footsteps soft as he crossed the room and leaned against the corner of her desk.

“You found something.” It wasn’t a question. Daniels had a way of reading her, of seeing through the walls she put up. It was both infuriating and, in a way, reassuring.

“Maybe,” she said, gesturing to the files. “Veda wasn’t as clean as she seemed. She was involved in blackmail—big names in the scene, people with a lot to lose. She wasn’t just a player. She was a power broker.”

Daniels picked up one of the photos, his jaw tightening as he studied it. “And someone decided they’d had enough of her games.”

“Or she pushed the wrong person too far,” Reyna agreed. She pulled up another file on the laptop, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “I’ve already started a list of potential suspects—people she was in contact with, clients, partners. But it’s a long list, and most of these names are aliases. It’s going to take time to figure out who they really are.”

“That’s where I come in,” Daniels said, his tone calm but commanding. He set the photo down and moved closer, his presence filling the small space. “Most of Cerberus here in Chicago is working on bringing down a huge human trafficking ring as well as trying to dismantle René Vallois’s organization.”

“How do you even know that?” she asked, exasperated.

She could feel his gaze on her, steady and unrelenting, and it made her want to push him away and pull him closer all at once.

“Because there are people here at Cerberus who actually consider me a friend and know I’m good at what I do. I know Fitz is opening another satellite office in Monte Carlo. If I can help you, that’s one thing less they have to do,” Daniels said, his voice low and firm.

For someone who didn’t work for Cerberus, he was remarkably well informed.

“You’re running yourself into the ground,” he continued, “trying to carry this all on your own. I get it—you’re used to being the one everyone else relies on—and understandably so. But murder—especially one involving powerful people or a serial killer of some kind—is what I do best. This isn’t just your fight.”

“Who said serial killer?”

“No one, but we have no way of knowing at this point. Why not let Cerberus do what it does best, and let me help you with this.”

Reyna clenched her jaw, her fingers curling into fists as she stared at the screen. She hated this—hated the way he saw through her, hated the way he made her feel like she wasn’t as invincible as she liked to think she was. But he wasn’t wrong. And that was the worst part.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice clipped. “But don’t expect me to sit on the sidelines while you play hero.”

Daniels’ lips quirked into something that might have been a smile if it weren’t for the seriousness in his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He straightened, his presence still looming as he crossed the room to the whiteboard mounted on the wall. Grabbing a marker, he started sketching out a rough diagram, connecting names and places with lines and arrows. Reyna watched him for a moment, her irritation giving way to something she didn’t want to name. He was methodical, precise, and damn it, he was good at what he did. He was also something of a hunk. It was one of the things that drew her to him, even when she didn’t want it to.

“So,” Daniels said, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Who’s at the top of your list?”

Reyna pushed back her chair and stood, crossing the room to join him. She grabbed a second marker, uncapped it with her teeth, and started adding to the diagram. “Alan Porter. He’s a regular at the Velvet Glove, knew Veda well, and has a reputation for being… less than scrupulous. He’s got money, connections, and a hell of a lot to lose if certain secrets came to light.”

Daniels nodded. “Who else?”

“Angela Wright,” Reyna said, tapping the marker against the board. “She’s a professional submissive, high-profile in the scene. She and Veda had a falling out a few months ago—something about a breach of trust. She’s got motive, but I doubt she could pull off something like this without help.”

“Which means she might have a partner,” Daniels said, his tone thoughtful. He stepped back, studying the board with a critical eye. “We’ll need surveillance on both of them. If they’re involved, they’ll slip up eventually.”

“I’m already working on it,” Reyna said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve got Caro and Mitch setting up a surveillance grid. We’ll start monitoring their movements, see if anything stands out.”

“Good,” Daniels said, his gaze shifting to hers. “But if you’re going to lead this, you need to trust your team. That means delegating, Reyna. Not doing everything yourself.”

“I trust my team,” she said, though the defensive edge in her voice made it clear she knew what he meant. “I just don’t trust anyone else to clean up this mess.”

Daniels stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “You trust me.”

Reyna’s breath caught, the words hitting her harder than she expected. She wanted to argue, to deny it, but the truth was right there between them, undeniable and unspoken. She did trust him. And that scared her more than anything else.

“For now, but don’t push your luck, Daniels,” she said, her voice soft but firm.

He didn’t reply, didn’t press her. Instead, he nodded, stepping back and giving her the space she didn’t realize she needed. “Let me know when the surveillance is up and running. I’ll loop in the Bureau, see if we can get us some additional resources.”

“How very generous of them,” she said sarcastically.

“As you pointed out, with just one murder, it doesn’t necessarily fall into Bureau territory, but the mayor and the police commissioner asked for my help, so the Bureau is willing to let me help. Let’s meet back here tomorrow morning.”

Reyna nodded dismissively and watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest as the door closed behind him. She breathed out slowly, her fingers tightening around the marker in her hand. This wasn’t just about the case anymore. It never had been. And the more she tried to keep him at arm’s length, the closer he seemed to get.

She turned back to the board, her gaze lingering on the names and lines they’d drawn. Veda’s connections, the blackmail, the secrets—it was all part of a web, and somewhere in the middle of it sat the spider who had killed Veda. Reyna would find them. She had to. And if it meant letting Daniels in, even just a little, then so be it.

For now.

Reyna turned, shaking out her hands and arms. The club was open tonight. Maybe she’d go downstairs and get some stress relief. As she made her way down, she could hear the club pulsing with low, ambient music. The rich, warm lighting softened the edges of the dark wood furniture and the gleaming black leather that adorned the space. Reyna saw Daniels standing next to a padded table with his kit laid out next to it. In his kit was his own personal violet wand. Damn the man. He knew this was just the kind of thing that would help her relax.

Instead of going up to the lounge to get a drink and ignore him, she turned toward the submissives’ lounge and made her way to her locker.

The warm, muted light of the submissives' lounge enveloped Reyna as she pushed through the door, the weight of the investigation pressing harder on her shoulders with each step. She snorted, tugging off her jacket and unbuttoning her jeans with quick, jerky movements. The room was quiet, a soft hum of background music playing, but the peaceful atmosphere only made her more aware of the chaos spinning in her head.

“Reyna?” Hope Newcomb’s voice cut through the muted beat of the music. “You look like you’re about ready to explode.”

“I’m fine,” Reyna muttered, shedding her regular clothes and underthings and pulling out her favorite corset and thong set. If Daniels was going to use the wand, he’d want as much skin showing as possible. She knew he’d make her remove the corset, but he might let her keep the thong—but then again, he might not.

“You don’t look fine,” Hope replied with a knowing tilt of her head. She moved closer, taking the corset from Reyna as Reyna pulled on the thong. “But that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? It’s tough when you work in a male-dominated profession. Sometimes we need to let go a little, you know.”

“I don’t need a lecture,” Reyna said, her voice sharp. “I’m just here because… Never mind.”

Hope held open the corset, waiting for Reyna to step into it. “Because you’re smart enough and strong enough to know when you need some peace,” Hope said gently, pulling the corset around Reyna’s torso and beginning to lace it up the back. “And that’s okay. Everyone needs a release sometimes. It’s not a bad thing to let someone else help carry the load.”

Reyna didn’t respond immediately, biting her lip as the corset tightened around her ribs. The familiar pressure was comforting, but it did little to quell the storm in her chest. “I don’t have time for this.”

Hope tugged the laces one last time, securing them with a firm knot before placing a light hand on Reyna’s shoulder. “You’ve always been strong, Reyna. But strength doesn’t mean going it alone. It’s okay to let someone in, especially someone who’s already trying so hard to be there for you.”

Reyna turned her head sharply, her blue eyes narrowing. “If this is about Daniels...”

“It’s always about Daniels,” Hope said with a soft laugh, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “He cares about you, Reyna. More than you realize. Try being a little nicer to him. It wouldn’t kill you.”

Reyna’s lips pressed into a thin line, but there was no heat behind her glare. “He drives me crazy.”

“You have to admit, that isn’t a long road.”

Reyna couldn’t help but smile.

“Maybe that’s what you need,” Hope said, brushing a stray piece of blonde hair from Reyna’s face. “Someone to push you out of your own head. Now go. And try to let go of some of that stubbornness while you’re at it.”

Reyna gave a low laugh, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Not making any promises.”

Hope smiled and turned back toward her seat, her movements graceful and unhurried. “You don’t have to promise. Just try.”

She entered the dungeon and walked to where Daniels was patiently waiting. He stood in the center of one of the smaller scening stages. She approached him, her expression guarded despite the nervous energy crackling beneath her skin. The faint scent of leather and a hint of candle wax teased her senses. She hadn’t planned on doing this, especially with Daniels, but she knew he understood what they were up against, and that she would find it next to impossible to resist his quiet insistence.

Daniels stood a few feet away, calm and composed as always, holding the violet wand, its faint flicker casting a subtle glow across his strong, chiseled features. He held it with an easy confidence that only deepened the magnetic pull she always felt when he was close.

“Are you going to just stand there looking gorgeous all night, or will you let me help?” His voice was low, steady, with that thread of authority that always sent her libido into overdrive and her mind into neutral.

She raised an eyebrow, defiance tugging at her instincts even as her pulse quickened. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re here,” he agreed, setting the wand down carefully on the table. “But that doesn’t mean you’re ready.”

Reyna wanted to argue, to throw his words back at him, but she couldn’t. Because he was right. She wasn’t ready—not for this, not for the way he seemed to see through every layer of armor she had so carefully built around herself. But if she was going to move forward, to prove to him—and to herself—that she wasn’t a liability, she had to let go. Even if only for tonight.

“I’m ready,” she said, the words coming out firmer than she expected. She uncrossed her arms and stepped closer.

Daniels studied her, his dark eyes searching. Then, without a word, he gestured toward the padded bench in the center of the room. “Turn around and let me get you out of that corset.”

Reyna hesitated for half a beat before stepping up next to him, her movements deliberate as she forced herself to maintain eye contact with him. If she was going to do this, she wasn’t going to show him how much her heart was racing.

She moved closer, turning her back to him and sucking in her breath as he began to loosen the corset. At least he wasn’t cutting the laces this time. Once he laid it aside, he hooked his fingers in her thong and helped her step out of it—so much for that thought. When she was completely naked, he smiled at her as he reached for her hand, guiding her onto the padded surface with a gentle firmness that made her pulse skip. As she lay down, he crouched next to her, his hands brushing lightly over her wrists.

“I need to know you’re with me, Reyna,” he said, his gaze locking onto hers. “This isn’t about control. This is about trust.”

Her throat tightened, but she nodded. “I’m with you.”

Daniels stood and reached for the violet wand, the soft hum of electricity and the smell of ozone filling the room as he turned it on. He held it up, the faint purple light flickering along the tip, and gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, his voice steady.

“I will,” she replied, her voice was barely above a whisper.

The first touch of the wand against her bare arm was like returning to an old friend. A sharp, buzzing sensation danced across her skin, light and teasing, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. She inhaled sharply, her body tensing, but she didn’t pull away.

“Relax,” Daniels murmured, moving the wand in slow, deliberate strokes. “Breathe through it.”

She closed her eyes, focusing on the sound of his voice, on the way his presence filled the room like a steady, grounding force. The sharpness of the wand gave way to a tingling warmth that spread through her body, drawing her deeper into the moment. With each pass of the wand, her muscles softened, her breathing slowed, and the world outside the room faded into nothing.

“That’s it,” Daniels said, his tone low and almost soothing. “Just let go and drift.”

Reyna opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. There was something in his expression—an intensity that went beyond dominance, beyond control. It was care. And it made her chest ache in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

As the wand moved lower, skimming across her collarbone and down her arm, a shiver ran through her. The combination of sensations—the faint sting of the electricity, the warmth of his gaze, the steady rhythm of her own breathing—pulled her into a place she hadn’t allowed herself to go in a long time. A place where she didn’t have to be in control.

Daniels set the wand aside after a while, his hands replacing the electric hum with the steady warmth of his touch. He traced the paths the wand had marked, his fingers light but deliberate. The contrast sent a fresh wave of sensation through her, a reminder of the power he held—and the power she had given him, even if only for this moment.

“You needed this,” he said softly, his voice breaking through the haze that had settled over her. “You needed to let go.”

She didn’t reply, couldn’t find the words to explain the mix of emotions swirling inside her. Instead, she leaned into his touch, letting him guide her back to the present.

When he finally pulled away, the loss of his touch was almost jarring. He stepped back, his gaze never leaving hers as he reached for a nearby chair and pulled it closer.

“Talk to me,” he said, his tone quiet but insistent. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Reyna hesitated, her fingers brushing against the edge of the bench. “I don’t know,” she admitted finally. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”

Daniels nodded, as if he already knew. “Too long. It isn’t good for you. You’re not alone. Let me help with the case, with this.”

The mention of the case snapped her back to reality. The killer. Veda. The tangled mess they were trying to unravel. It wasn’t just about her anymore; it never had been.

“We need to move fast,” she said, her voice sharper now. “If they’re targeting people connected to Veda, they won’t stop. We’re running on borrowed time.”

Daniels studied her for a moment before nodding. “We’ll figure it out. But not if you burn yourself out.”

Reyna sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the table away from him, and stood, her posture stiff as she grabbed her corset and thong. She needed to put some distance between them and needed to make sure that distance remained in place. “I don’t need anyone thinking I can’t handle myself. Not you, not Cerberus, not anyone.”

“Reyna,” Daniels said, his voice cutting through her rising anger. He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “We’ve been through this—no one thinks you aren’t capable.”

As she left the dungeon and headed back to the submissives’ lounge, the weight of the case felt heavier than before. The killer was out there, circling closer with every passing moment. And while she hated relying on anyone, Reyna knew she’d need Daniels by her side if they were going to survive whatever was coming.