7. Mission

AIDEN'S POV

"Did you get info on their location?"

"No, boss," Stephan replied, his tone laced with heavy disappointment.

"What exactly do I pay you for?"

"I'm sorry, Boss."

"Are you sure you actually tortured the man, or do I need to go down there and handle it myself?"

"We broke him, Boss, but he refuses to say a word. If we push the interrogation any further, he’s going to die."

"It doesn't matter," I snapped, tossing my coat onto the desk. "Shoot him or bury him alive. If he refuses to cooperate, why are we wasting our resources keeping him breathing?"

"We could pivot and dig into his personal history, Boss. You know how the saying goes: if you can't break the man, go after what he loves. There is always a vulnerability—someone or something we can leverage against him."

"True. Good thinking, Stephan. Keep me updated the second you uncover a name. For now, we change tactics. We’ll focus on systematically hunting down and burning their active warehouses until we force their main hideout into the open."

"Yes, Boss. When do we roll out?"

"Midnight."

I watched him nod in absolute understanding. Turning on my heel, I headed for the exit. Before I went to war tonight, I had to see Avery with my own eyes and ensure she was breathing.

The private medical wing wasn't far from the estate, taking a mere three minutes to reach. Rudy practically melted the asphalt, keeping his foot pinned to the gas the entire drive.

"How is she, Doctor?" I demanded, intercepting the chief surgeon in the corridor.

"She's stable, nothing to worry about," the doctor explained, wiping his brow. "The bullet passed clean through, so the arm will heal perfectly with time. However, due to the trauma, she will be in severe pain when the sedation wears off."

"And her ankle?"

"A minor sprain. For now, our primary focus is the entry wound. We’re pumping her with heavy antibiotics to prevent any risk of infection."

"Alright. Thanks, Doc."

Stepping into the private suite, the sight of her small frame buried beneath the hospital linens hit me with an unexpected, inexplicable pang. She looked incredibly frail, utterly vulnerable.

"Such a small thing you are," I murmured, leaning against the guardrail. "Though I must admit, you possess a terrifying amount of strength." A dry smile tugged at my lips, realizing how ridiculous I looked talking to someone who couldn't hear a single word.

I had secretly hoped she would wake up before I left, but her body clearly demanded the rest. Leaving her bedside felt fundamentally wrong. I had positioned an elite security detail outside her door, but after their abysmal failure at the mansion, a bitter taste of distrust lingered in my mouth.

"Simon," I called out, signaling my second-in-command as I stepped back into the hallway. "I am leaving you personally in charge of this floor. No matter what happens, absolutely no one enters this room. If a doctor or a nurse gives you even the slightest off-vibe, neutralize them. In fact, verify every single medical staff member who approaches this door."

"Understood, Boss."

"Good."

The moment my boots hit the pavement outside the hospital, my phone buzzed violently. I swiped the screen. "Hey, cousin."

"Sydney! What's up?" a vibrant voice echoed through the speaker.

"That is a pathetic excuse for a greeting to a cousin you haven't spoken to in months. Where are you? I just touched down."

"What do you mean you just touched down?" I asked, pausing beside my car.

"I landed a few minutes ago. My flight out of London was delayed for hours. Seriously, where are you?"

"You never mentioned you were returning to New York, Sydney. I’m currently at the hospital. Though—"

"The hospital?!" she gasped, her dramatic flair instantly taking over. "Why? What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I'm perfectly fine. My wife was targeted in an ambush a few hours ago."

"You have a *wife*?! Jesus, Aiden! What on earth did I miss while I was away? I'm taking a cab straight there. Which hospital?"

"Life Haven. Call Simon when you arrive at the front desk. I'm moving out now; I have business to handle."

"Wait, you should stay! She’s going to want to see her husband the second she opens her eyes."

"Someone has to ensure the bastards who put her in that bed bleed for it," I growled, my voice dropping an octave. "Besides, you’ll be watching her. Make sure your face is the first thing she sees when she wakes up."

"What—?"

I cut the line, immediately dialing Stephan. "Move the strike team out. I’ve dropped the coordinates to your device. I'm heading to the vanguard now."

"We're already en route, Boss."

An intrusive, tactical idea sparked in my mind. For this particular play to succeed, I needed to alter my appearance to blend into the lower-level syndicate rings. I instructed Rudy to pull over outside a high-end streetwear boutique not far from the medical center, swapping my tailored suit for a tactical jacket and dark, unbranded casual wear.

"Wow, Boss," Rudy remarked as I slid back into the passenger seat. "You look... completely different."

I raised a cold eyebrow at him. I certainly felt different, stripped of my usual armor, but was he implying I looked unhinged?

"In a very dangerous, imposing way, of course," he added in a frantic rush.

I gave a single, curt nod. "Now step on it, Rudy. I have an empire to bleed dry."

Rudy never disappointed. We tore through the Brooklyn streets, arriving at the target location in half the estimated time. I stepped out alone into the dim alleyway of an unmarked distribution hub.

"Who goes there? Identify yourself!" a rough voice shouted from the shadows.

I raised my hands in a mock gesture of surrender as three men stepped out, their pistols leveled directly at my chest.

"I'm just here to purchase high-grade merchandise," I stated, keeping my tone perfectly casual. "I was assured across the river that you run the cleanest operation in the city."

One of the sentries stepped forward, aggressively patting me down for wires or weapons. "He's clean," he announced to the others.

The tension thinned slightly, and they signaled for me to follow them deep into the concrete bowels of the warehouse.

"So, what kind of weight are you looking to move?" a man with piercing heterochromia asked, his mismatched eyes boring into me from behind a steel desk.

"I want the absolute premium tier of whatever you're hoarding," I replied, matching his intense gaze without flinching.

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing to slits. "You look incredibly familiar... Have our paths crossed before?"

"I doubt it," I replied, maintaining a flawless, ironclad delivery. "But I move a massive volume of product across the state lines, so it's highly possible you've seen my face in the papers or the clubs."

"But I swear—"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Green," a burly dealer laughed from the corner, tossing a burner phone onto the table. "You're acting like a paranoid schoolgirl. The man said he doesn't know you." The rest of the room erupted into mocking laughter.

*That's right, you pathetic idiots. Laugh while your lungs still function.*

"I almost lost my way tracking this grid down," I lied smoothly, leaning against a stack of wooden crates. "Is this sector new? I hauled my ass all the way from Manhattan."

"Whoa, seriously? All the way from Manhattan down to the deep end of Brooklyn?"

"Yeah. I'll go to the ends of the earth for pristine quality. I supply a network of elite clubs uptown. You know how the logistics work."

"Fair enough. How many kilos are we talking?"

"As much as I can physically cram into the back of my vehicle."

"And the precinct? The transit routes are crawling with state troopers."

"I have a heavily financed corporate cover-up," I replied smoothly. "A man doesn't survive in this bracket of the industry without knowing how to grease the wheels."

"He's got a point," Green muttered, though his mismatched eyes still danced with profound suspicion.

"What payment protocols do you accept here?" I asked, reaching into my pocket.

"Cash is king, but we run encrypted card routing through a terminal right here."

"I'll utilize a card. Here." I slid a black corporate card across the steel surface. It was registered under one of my shell design firms—a multi-million dollar entity completely disconnected from my family name. Green snatched it up, inspecting the embossed text, but the corporate title naturally rang no alarms.

"Looking for a hidden tracking chip on my plastic?" I mocked, tilting my head.

"No, nothing. Just ensuring the account is valid."

"I see. Tell me, do you have a storage warehouse positioned closer to Manhattan that I can frequent next time? It seems like your logistical footprint out here is a bit unorganized and underground."

The burly dealer laughed again. "Are you out of your mind? The Martins, unorganized? You cannot be serious, man."

"Shut your mouth, Smith," Green hissed, glaring at his subordinate. He snatched a piece of scrap paper, aggressively scribbling down a list of coordinates. He shoved the paper into my hand. "Here. These are the secure drop locations we operate out of Manhattan."

A dark, lethal smile slowly spread across my face as my fingers wrapped around the paper. "Thank you, Green. Now, I notice the transaction still haven't processed. What's the delay?"

"We're just calculating the total valuation for that much volume."

"Tell me, Green," I murmured, stepping closer to the desk, the air in the room turning suddenly suffocating. "You mentioned earlier that you recognized my face from somewhere, correct?"

"Yeah..." he stammered, his instincts finally screaming at him that something was catastrophically wrong.

"Look a little closer."

"Why? I'm... I'm certain I was mistaken."

I didn't answer. My phone vibrated twice in my palm—the tactical signal from Stephan. My perimeter teams had just breached the outer gates. The slaughter was about to begin.

**AVERY'S POV**

I forced my eyelids open, but the piercing, sterile glare of the room instantly forced them shut again. The light was blinding, making my head throb with a fierce intensity. Trying a second time, I blinked slowly, allowing my vision to gradually adjust to the white surroundings.

As the blur faded, a girl with vibrant dark hair materialized beside my bed, looking entirely too energetic for a hospital room.

"You're awake!" she gasped, her face lighting up with relief. "Oh my god, I was getting so worried about you."

"Who... who are you?" I croaked, my throat feeling like sandpaper.

"I'm Sydney, Aiden's cousin!" she introduced herself, practically bouncing on her heels.

I looked past her toward the empty doorway. "Where is he?"

"Oh, he had some urgent family business to attend to."

A cold weight settled deep in my chest. He didn't care. After everything that had happened in that terrifying garden, he couldn't even bother to be here when I woke up.

"How long... how long have I been out?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Sydney replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe around five hours?" She stared at me, clearly wondering why the timeline mattered so much to me.

"What time is it right now?"

"It's just past 1:00 AM."

"I see..." I whispered, turning my face toward the window.

The harsh reality settled in. He truly didn't care whether I survived this nightmare or not. Was it really too much to ask for him to just wait by my side until I opened my eyes?

"Hey, I see that look on your face," Sydney said softly, her tone turning uncharacteristically serious. "Don't worry. My cousin went out there to personally hunt down the absolute idiots who dared to put you in this bed."

"Isn't that... isn't that supposed to be the police's job?" I questioned weakly.

"Yeah, under normal circumstances, but—" Sydney caught herself mid-sentence, her eyes widening slightly. "Never mind."

What was she about to say? What was she hiding from me?

"Can I please have some water?" I whispered, needing a distraction from my racing thoughts.

"Of course! Is there anything else you need at all? Just say the word."

"No. Thank you."

She scrambled out of the room to find a pitcher. She seemed genuinely sweet—maybe a little too sweet—but there was an unspoken undercurrent to her words. She knew the truth about what Aiden really was, and I was trapped in a dangerous game where no one was telling me the rules.