CHAPTER SEVEN

THALIA POV

"We're here, ma'am."

The driver's voice wakes me. Vaughn waits outside, and despite everything, seeing him still brings comfort.

"Please pay him." I signal no to whatever lecture he's preparing.

Inside his gym—half his, half his friend's partnership—he takes the seat opposite me at the small café area.

"Tell me you're not wearing Voldemort's shirt."

The displeasure in his tone is exactly why I came. Something to remind me it's wrong to crave Carlos's touch.

But my mind stays glued on the never-ending loop of him yanking my hair, his gaze on me, how he feels pressed against my back.

"What the actual fuck!" Vaughn's voice thunders. "What are you daydreaming about?"

I let go of my thoughts.

"Always the loud speaker. I can hear you quite well, Vaughn."

"I doubt that. Been calling your fucking name for ages."

"Sorry."

"Big Marc said you planted cameras in Carlos's room." His stupid grin—the one I used to love,appears.

" You're nailing it, babe."

He orders my usual: latte and a croissant. He knows what I like.

I lose myself to the pride in his face.

"How?"

"I fainted, and he took me to his house."

"What the fuck!" He stands so fast his chair thuds into the floor, eyes blown wide as he rushes toward me.

"I'm fine"

"Don't fucking lie to me."

He glares. Already checking my body for bruises before I can stop him.

I let him search, looking at his profile—the strong jaw, the golden-brown hair, the knife scar on his collarbone. He got that scar protecting me during our first year of training at Shadow, when I mouthed off to one of Marcus's men and nearly got slashed for it.

He exhales hard before pulling me into an awkward hug over the table.

"For fuck's sake, Wild Cat. Be careful."

I ruffle his hair.

"You're suffocating me."

He pulls back to look at me, his light blue eyes deepening as they drop to my lips.

I don't look away. My heart doesn't race the way it used to.

We broke up over a year ago, but sometimes we still fall into bed together. No strings. No expectations.

"Why didn't you call me?" he asks, returning to his seat.

"Sorry, sir. My schedule didn't say I'd pass out."

He throws his napkin at me with a laugh that matches my smile.

Marcus is with me because we have a mutual enemy. But Vaughn stood by me without expectation—since our last year of high school until now. Even when I broke his heart by demanding space, then crawled back to him because I couldn't be alone, which still didn't work out.

He stayed by me.

Now we're just... mutual. He's focused on his FBI job while I focus on my revenge.

"He was raised by a single mom who was a soldier," Vaughn says out of nowhere.

I raise an eyebrow.

"You want anything else, babe?" I shake my head, and he dismisses the waitress, ignoring her obvious flirtation.

"Carlos," he clarifies.

"From the office, there's a record of his mom. Former military, shameful discharge. That's all I could get before the file locked me out. High-level clearance."

My heart rate picks up, desperate for more.

I feel emotional and grateful to Vaughn, so I do something that surprises us both. I go over to his side of the table and hug him.

"Hey, Wild Cat." The abruptness makes him drop his fork as his arms wrap around me instinctively. "Everything okay?"

"Thank you," I say, and he pats my back. His softness is contrary to his hard body.

"You're doing great, Thal."

I can't control the tears as they drop onto his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry for how we ended."

He adjusts his seat and pulls me onto his lap.

"You're always my favorite woman. Best of them all." why did I stop loving him?

"Take your time, Thal. I'm here."

But my body craves the danger Carlos embodies.

"What if we don't come back?" The words clog my throat, dripping more tears onto him.

"You'll always have a home with me, Thalia."

People don't see his softness beneath the tattoos covering his arms and chest, beneath his cussing and anger.

"Your words just make me tear up more, you idiot."

He laughs, his palm soothing my spine

"Are we disturbing something?" Marcus's voice cuts through the moment.

"The fuck you blind? Isn't it obvious?" Vaughn replies with his usual harsh tone.

I try to sit up, but Vaughn holds me firmer against him.

"You're dating again?" Henry—Marcus's brother, who bears same name as Carlos, questions.

"None of your business, dickface," Vaughn shoots back.

I feel Marcus's gaze burning into my back. He clears his throat twice.

I attempt to return to my seat beside Marcus, but Vaughn holds me still on his lap.

"I think she needs to explain how she got into Carlos's home overnight and why she's wearing what I assume are his clothes," Marcus says in his gravelly voice.

The words still Vaughn, but he holds me tighter, burning his gaze into Marcus.

"Can we just appreciate Thalia's effort and acknowledge she slipped into the lion's den without getting hurt?" Henry, ever the peacemaker.

I turn in Vaughn's lap to face them.

"Um."

Vaughn squeezes my thigh.

Summarizing as briefly as I can. Marcus face remain hard as stone all through

For someone so large with a reputation for violence, he doesn't try to look approachable.

Henry high-fives me. Vaughn pulls me closer until I feel his hardness pressing against me, but it doesn't ignite anything.

It should send currents through me like when Carlos ate my half-finished toast, when his eyes tracked my every movement—

No. Don't go there.

"Pleased with my handiwork, I headed here. And I've decided I'm not working for him."

"Take the job," Marcus declares.

We all turn to stare at him.

"He'll control and monitor her," Henry points out, glaring at his much larger brother.

"It's Friday. We have the weekend to reshape her background, give her monitoring tech Carlos won't detect." Marcus faces me.

"You'll take the job. Change apartments to throw him off. Contact us only through burner phones."

"The first time your PA started doing drugs, you found it out within twenty-four hours," Vaughn points out

"So?" Marcus's brows knit together.

"Carlos isn't stupid. If he catches Thalia snooping or finds out a deal leaked by her, he'll kill her" Henry finishes, looking at his brother, hoping he understands it's suicidal.

"She'll be prepared"

"No otra vez" Henry retorts back to Marcus with a hard glare. I wish I understand spanish.

"Carlos doesn't have PA, there must be something if he suddenly needs one"

Marcus notes, looking away from his brother

"I can't," I break the tension.

"He showed me an apartment covered in cameras. Very close to his penthouse. He's already setting up surveillance."

Vaughn pulls me closer, whispering in my ear, "You didn't tell me that."

"Sorry."

"So you want us to lose this opportunity into his inner circle?" Marcus's voice is demanding, final.

"A chef doesn't get access to his private meetings, his schedule, his vulnerabilities. You take the job. Play smart. Call us when shit hits the fan. Final."

Vaughn shifts me on his lap so he can face Marcus directly.

"It's her fucking life at risk. Don't you dare call 'final' without asking for her opinion!"

His voice echoes through the empty café. Vaughn never backs down, no matter how big or volatile the person is. I confidently retort back at some people because I'm sure he'll fight for me. Like now.

Marcus's jaw clenches. He looks at me.

"I..." My throat tightens.

PA screams danger and loss of freedom. Those cameras might record everything.

"Let's reconvene at Shadow," I suggest. Shadow's headquarters—a two-story building housing operatives and surveillance tech. Where we trained.

"We'll figure out how I can be his PA with a lower suicide rate."

Marcus nods and I know the conversation is over.

"Get her proper clothes."

"And Thalia?" Marcus pauses

"Carlos won't be pleased his PA visited another man, then disobeyed him. Be prepared."

I ignore the warning.

"I'm not another man and what pleases Voldemort isn't her business"

Vaughn retort loudly few of the people at the gym passes strange look at us

"You're one hell of a fearless girl," Henry says, half warning, half admiration.

I just shrug

Marcus's scowl remains fixed on me. I don't know who's taller—him or Carlos.

I bite my lip at the thought. I really just found a way to think about Carlos while surrounded by three men who'd kill him on sight.

"My shirt is in my room upstairs. Go change," Vaughn says, his tone firm with an edge of hostility.

To be honest, I love that I can still smell Carlos on me.

But to prove myself wrong, I head toward the stairs.

It's already evening when I leave Vaughn's room with ruined orgasms because I couldn't stop thinking about Carlos.

I head to my car—they must have retrieved it from the Swallow Now parking garage.

I check the burner and plug in the earbuds connected to Carlos's apartment feed that Marcus dropped.

The first words I hear stop me cold.

"There's a shipment happening tonight. I'm leaving in twenty minutes. Meet me at Swallow Now."

That's all he says. I keep the pod in, listening for more information, but only shuffling.

Twenty minutes.

Time is Past 5pm.

"What do you have for me Carlos?"

I don't know the way to his penthouse, but I know Swallow Now.

My hands grip the steering wheel.

Live to kill Carlos, I remind myself.

But as I start the car and head toward him, the mantra sounds less like a promise and more like a prayer I'm not sure will be answered.

CHAPTER EIGHT:

I don't have an issue with marriage. I have an issue with Thalia claiming she has a husband.

"I've got to give it to her, Don. She's relentless." Damien's smirk appears as he checks his side mirror, prompting me to do the same.

A brown Dodge Durango trails us, one car behind.

My lips curve upward. Her persistence is admirable.

Since age ten to now thirty-one, all I've known is kill or be killed. Each day bloody boring. I find new ways to entertain myself: leaving them crippled for hours, giving them weapons to end me. None ever could.

My latest game: keeping someone alive for revenge after a mass killing. Watch them plan my death. End them when they show their claws. They think they're in power, but all the while, they're just my source of entertainment.

Like Thalia Easton.

"Lose her at the next intersection."

Damien nods and I tune him out with AirPods-Thalia's, actually. After she fainted, keeping her alive was instinctive. Could've called 911 like Damien suggested, but the thought of her shock seeing me when she woke up won. After the in-house doctor confirmed she's fine, just PTSD symptoms.

I searched her bag for medication or anything she uses tp keep herself alive. Can't have her die before killing me now, would we?

She had none.

So I took her AirPods as a souvenir instead. My would-be killer has exquisite taste in overpriced electronics.

"Lost her."

Satisfaction curls through me at the thought of her frustration.

I've been watching her for over four years now, well enough to know she has anger issues, and I've come to admire how her gray eyes glisten when she crinkles her face in rage. The quick retaliation she displays-sometimes hitting the person, other times whatever object is nearby. Most times, she digs her nails into her palms, attempting control and failing beautifully sometimes.

Her lack of control pleases me immensely.

I increase the sound to drown out Damien's incoming lecture.

The one he's been repeating for three weeks

"You're playing a dangerous game."

Speak of the devil.

Now he thinks I'm insane for making Thalia my PA. I humor him, though.

"It's not a nice game if it ends quickly brother." he glares

"And there's nothing dangerous about entertaining a wet kitten."

Damien's response is to jolt the steering wheel hard right without warning.

The abrupt turn sends me sideways. My skull thuds against the passenger window with an aching crack. Stars explode behind my eyelids.

"What the bloody hell!" I press my palm against the throbbing spot. On God, if he didn't mean so much to me, I'd smash his head through this window.

"She threatened Jerol two weeks ago to tell her our shipment plans." Ignoring my outburst, Damien launches into his prepared speech. "Before winning against me on Friday, she slashed four of our tires.

Four! Then played against us like she's innocent."

My lip curve up at the image of Friday's play. After the death of her family, it was just a mindless monitoring during her high school year. Intrigued to see what a bratty violent kid will do.

Then she got interesting by training under her high school badboy- Vaughn.

"She's not afraid of you, Carlos. That's not the kind of person you hire as your PA."

His worry is becoming nauseating. Everything he finds concerning about her is precisely what keeps me entertained.

The mystery of her next move, discovering her plans before she executes them-it ignites something in me I haven't felt in years.

"She's still a pawn, no matter what. Keep your enemy close and all that..."

THUD!

This time he yanks the wheel left with the energy of a man who's decided vehicular assault is valid communication.

My shoulder slams into the door panel. I taste copper where I've bitten my tongue.

Then an abrupt stop that throws me forward against my seatbelt.

"WHAT THE HELL, BROTHER!"

Like the lunatic he is, he ignores me, staring straight ahead with white knuckles gripping the wheel.

"Did you lose your sight or your limbs?!"

One more of this bullshit and I'll forget he helped me break free from Zara.

"Neither, Terrius!" He only uses my surname when he's furious.

"You lost your damn mind! She's destroying you, and you're burying yourself deeper!"

His voice matches my earlier volume, coated with frustration and my favorite weapon: fear. But I don't appreciate it from him. He looks genuinely scared.

"It's just Thalia. A twenty-three-year-old girl with only six years of fighting experience." The calmness I want to project isn't working. His frustration is infuriating me.

"Just Thalia." Damien's laugh is sharp and humorless.

"Right. 'Just' the woman who slashed our tires, threatened Jerol with his own intestines for information, who blurred the cameras in the apartment you built for her"

"It's for surprise. Future evidence" He glares at me

"To proof I've been watching her too"

He shakes his head then continues

"She carved 'Fuck You' into your windowsill with what I can only assume was her lipstick and sheer spite."

"It was a waterproof lipstick. Dark red. Post violence makeup."

We watched it together and it makes her more interesting. That she could plan such on the spot

"A water...-" Damien closes his eyes briefly, and suck in a breath.

"Carlos."

"Have fun Damien. She's just a wet kitten"

"Don." he looks comical. Nose red and flared. Eyes straight forward with hands gripping the wheels like he assumes It's my neck.

"Love of my life in occasionally violent way." he continues

"You're describing someone who won't hesitate to stab you like a feral cat!"

"She's more precise with her cuts."

"What?"

"If she stabs me, it will be precise"

He presses brake so fast I'd have hit my head, but I'm better prepared.

Never letting him drive again

"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!"

He thunders, eyes glued on me with hands that flair in the air.

Silence stretches between us.

CHAPTER NINE -

CARLOS POV

"Carlos." Damien's voice drops dangerously low.

"How do you know she's precise with her cuts?"

I don't reply. Just to humor myself-a tiny bit of fun.

His eyes dart between the road and me like I'm a dead man walking

"Don't tell me she stabbed you?!"

There it is. I smile.

"It's not fucking funny!"

Exactly. I restart the car.

"I watched a clip of her cutting off a guy's dick."

"Oh my God."

"For strategic purposes." I keep my tone light.

"And unlike me, Thalia only punishes bad guys. She does a good job at it."

"You watched a video of someone you call a kitten castrate a man?"

"He tried to rape her."

"You watched a video of someone you call a kitten, castrate a poor man?"

"For strategic purposes.And he isn't a poor man."

His eyes narrow

"He tried to rape her"

"Kill her now or that will be you next!"

"Can't. She's planning something"

He raises both brows at me

"A secret. Apparently It's to die for"

I watch the corner of his lip lift

"You're Insane!"

"I'm prepared. There's a difference." I straighten on my seat.

"Insane!" He deadpans

"This isn't insanity, it's long-term investment strategy. Portfolio diversification. I'm basically Warren Buffett, but with more murder and significantly better fashion sense."

Damien stares at me for a long moment, then starts laughing.

"What?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." He repeats ruffling his hair

"Just wondering if I should start planning your funeral now or wait until she actually stabs you."

"She won't stab me."

"Carlos, she has sixteen different plans to kill you pinned to a board in her apartment."

"Fourteen. I counted."

"THAT'S YOUR TAKEAWAY?!" His hands fly off the wheel momentarily before gripping it again.

"That I miscounted your own death schemes?!"

"Gotta be thorough."

"You're delusional!" He takes a shuddering breath.

"She's nobody Damien."

"Listen to me." I do

. "People like Emma-whose body you left in the freezer for eight hours before giving him a knife to kill you-he just begged for his life. That's 'nobody.'"

I can't ignore him. His words are wrapped in genuine concern. Not loud anymore, but thunderous.

"Challenging Zara. Dethroning Marcus. Burning Santos' sons alive after nursing them back to health-they were all 'nobody.' They feared you. They knew you'd ruin them harder, so they gave up."

His jaw clenches.

"But Thalia..." He turns to face me fully.

"Damn daughter of nightshade. She's not afraid of you. You brought her to your apartment, made her your PA, gave her proof you've been stalking her-that fucking candle."

The fear in his eyes makes something uncomfortable twist in my chest.

"CARLOS, YOU'RE OBSESSED WITH HER! BEYOND THE OTHERS!"

There it is.

I know he thinks so. But she's just entertainment. The best I've had in years, admittedly.

The death of her family was unplanned. I didn't even know she existed until one of the boys mentioned her afterward. High schooler? Boring.

"Monitor her for three weeks," I told Damien six years ago.

"If nothing interesting happens, she dies."

But something interesting happened. Two weeks after her family's death, she started training for revenge.

What a thrillimg surprise.

"Shouldn't we tell her about Marcus?" Damien's voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Maybe it'll change her focus-"

"Don't you dare."

He opens his mouth, then closes it. I was harsh, but he'll deal with it.

Nothing is taking Thalia's focus away from me.

I've seen what she can do. Her first fight in the ring-seventeen years old with only five months of training. She was losing, bloodied and battered. Then her opponent pulled her hair.

She went straight for the woman's eyeballs. Dug her nails in deep, then slammed her opponent's head against the floor repeatedly. The sound of skull meeting concrete echoed as she scream at the lady while everyone watched in stunned silence felt like absolute sonata.

Perfect sound.

That venom from a seventeen-year-old was fascinating.

Now she's here, in my head. Carving herself into my bones.

"You zoned out." Damien's already driving toward Swallow Now.

"You don't see it." His voice softens. "I fear she'll ruin you. Ruin Viper Lane. Ruin everything we've worked for."

"I can't let her go," I admit, gripping his hand on the wheel.

"But her ending is set in stone. Death, brother. Just like the others."

His frustration returns, but he speeds toward our destination instead of arguing.

We arrive at Swallow Now by seven. The lounge is packed-Friday night crowd, drunk and rowdy. Perfect cover.

Shipment confirmation takes less than an hour. Oil contracts from Dubai, weapons from Bulgaria. All clean. All untraceable.

By nine, we're heading to the warehouse.

Damien's quiet. Unusual.

"You're planning my intervention, aren't you?"

"Thinking about it." He doesn't look at me.

"Or your eulogy. Haven't decided which."

"Touching."

"She followed you tonight." His knuckles are white on the wheel. "She knows now isn't when you go home."

My jaw clenches. I've lost men to her schemes. Been careful with information. If she got one of my veterans to talk, I'll have to eliminate multiple soldiers. Can't handle that loss right now.

Though part of me admires it. Keeps me sharp. Forces me to think harder.

"When you visit her tonight-be careful." Damien pulls into the warehouse district.

"Search for weapons she's gathered as your PA."

"She was my PA for less than an hour."

"It's Thalia!" His voice rises. "That's enough time, and you're too whipped to notice!"

"Whipped?! I haven't even fucked her!"

"Still whipped. You could've sent the guys."

Now I'm quiet.

He's right, and I hate it.

Damien pulls over suddenly. Puts the car in park and just sits there, staring at the steering wheel.

"What-"

"Do you remember what you told me?" This can't be good

"After Zara? You made me promise that if you ever got like her, I'd put a bullet in your head before it gets that far."

My blood runs cold.

"You're not shooting me, Damien."

"I know." He laughs, but there's no humor in it.

"That's the problem. I should. But I can't." I exhale. Ready to leave this car

"Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"When she kills you-" His voice cracks. When, not if

"make sure she does it quick. I don't want you to suffer."

Warmth spreads through me. Qe fist bumb

I was furious this morning when she claimed to have a husband.

Almost drove to her house just to kill him but got a message.

I've stalked her as thoroughly as she's plotted against me. But for two months, I've been too preoccupied.

Tonight, I'll visit while she sleeps.

Nearly midnight when we finish. Books clean, shipments distributed. Everything smooth.

I drive alone to her apartment, blood pounding hot and fierce.

My hands are shaking on the steering wheel.

That's new.

I've killed men, burnt empires without my pulse rising. But the thought of seeing Thalia.

I don't feel fear.

So why does this feel like standing at the edge of something I can't come back from?

The anticipation is exquisite. What will I find? Anything but her husband is fine

The building comes into view. Dark except for a few scattered lights.

I park a block away. Walk the rest.

Standing outside her door now, key in hand. Her alarm already disarmed

My pulse thunders.

Hello, murderer.