"Get the boss on the phone. Now, Viper," Fang growled, eyes locked on the warehouse engulfed in flames.
Julian—known to most as Viper—glanced toward the ice rink where Kieran and his wife skated effortlessly. They looked happy. Untouchable. And the last thing Julian wanted was to be the one to ruin that with the news from across town.
He turned to one of the men. "Go get the boss."
Lionel blinked. "What? Why?"
The others looked between them. Julian's glare cut like a blade. "Just do it. We've got a problem."
Marco sighed. "Shit." He stepped forward as Lionel trudged reluctantly toward the rink, looking like he'd just been told to walk into a firing squad. No one could blame him—everyone knew Kieran Blackwood didn't like being disturbed, especially when he was with his wife.
Marco faced Julian. "What's the problem?"
Julian handed him the phone. The look on Marco's face said it all—he already knew it wasn't good. He put it to his ear, and Damon's voice confirmed everything.
"Shit. Shit. Are the men safe?" Marco asked, glancing toward the rink where Kieran had already begun removing his skates, his gaze flicking curiously toward Lionel.
Fang's voice was grim. "They're safe. Two injured, but stable. But the goods—everything. The drugs, the weapons, the diamonds—they're gone. Burnt to ash."
Marco cursed under his breath, then turned to Julian. Kieran was already walking toward them.
"I'm telling him. Everyone else shut up," Marco muttered.
Julian raised his hands. "I wasn't volunteering. I learn from my mistakes."
Marco ended the call as Kieran approached.
"Fill me in," Kieran said. Voice cool. Measured. Dangerous.
Marco met his gaze. "Warehouse Red. It's gone."
The air shifted. The men around him stiffened, eyes darting between each other and their boss. But Kieran showed no emotion. Not even a flicker.
He turned back to the rink.
Genesis was skating again, laughing silently as a group of teenage girls showed her playful moves. She waved at Kieran, and the girls mirrored her, giggling.
His lips curved—softly at first, then deeper.
"Get her a head warmer."
He didn't need to repeat it. One of the men sprinted to a duffel bag, yanked out a fluffy white-and-blue head warmer, and passed it to Liam.
But before Liam could deliver it, one of the girls skated to the edge and took it herself, bringing it to Genesis with delight.
The men watched in silence as Kieran observed his wife, the cold wind coloring her cheeks and nose. Her joy lit up the ice like it was her stage.
Julian nudged Marco.
Marco scowled at him.
Julian tilted his head—say something.
Marco made a face that clearly read: You do it. I'm not dying today.
Just then, Kieran turned around.
"What exactly was lost?"
"Everything," Marco replied.
Julian followed up. "We're not sure yet, boss. Fang says everything, but we haven't confirmed."
Kieran's jaw clenched ever so slightly.
"It's a message."
He turned back to the rink. "From Takeshi. He just played his first card."
A smile stretched across his lips.
Marco blinked. Was he actually… pleased?
Kieran added, "Just what I wanted."
Julian's eyes narrowed slightly. Now it made sense. Knight—Kieran's darker, unhinged persona—had been waiting. For proof. For something tangible to justify retaliation. Takeshi's fire delivered it on a silver platter.
Marco still couldn't wrap his head around it. "Boss… we just lost billions."
Kieran nodded slowly. "Yes, Chame. I know. It's my loss. But to take down someone like the Yakuza, you don't knock politely."
He leaned in, voice dropping to a smooth, lethal tone.
"You burn down your own door... so they think you've got nothing left to lose."
Julian and Marco exchanged a look. Knight was fully awake now.
He glanced again at Genesis. She was holding hands with a young girl, skating in slow circles.
A flicker of something passed in his eyes.
Tenderness. Faint. Fragile.
But it disappeared just as quickly.
"Takeshi just declared war," Knight said. "And I… just accepted."
He pulled out his phone. One swipe brought up a map filled with red zones, highlighted names, pulsing alerts.
He turned the screen to them.
"Activate Protocol Hades."
Julian tensed. "Boss… that's scorched earth—"
Knight shot him a look.
"I know what it is, Viper. I wrote it."
His voice softened, unnervingly.
"I built an empire that could survive hellfire. Let's see how much fire Takeshi can really bring."
Marco's throat was dry. "That covers Russia, Italy… even Colombia. You want it all moving?"
Knight nodded. "I want every shadow under my foot again."
Julian cleared his throat. "And Genesis? If we're going to war, she needs to be somewhere safe—"
Knight cut him off.
"She doesn't leave my sight."
"But—"
"I said what I said. She stays with me."
Cold. Possessive.
"She's the only thing keeping me sane right now."
But they all knew the truth.
She wasn't keeping him sane.
She was the thread holding the monster back.
Knight looked back at the rink. Genesis waved again, her nose bright pink from the cold.
He stepped forward.
"She won't even know I'm going to war," he whispered to himself.
Then he paused. Looked over his shoulder.
"Mobilize everything. And make sure every bullet with my name on it gets sent back... with a kiss."
He stepped onto the ice, moving like it belonged to him.
When he reached Genesis, the monster vanished.
The smile returned. Gentle. Loving. Convincing.
He opened his arms. She skated straight into them.
Her home.
Her shield.
Her demon in disguise.