Page 92 of Spinner's Luck

“They’ll be rolling in by the end of the week,” Devil continued. “Patch is also working his own angles, pulling intel from his brother, Samuel Flavio.”

Chain leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “That the same Samuel I’m thinkin’ of?”

Devil’s lips twitched. “Yeah. The mafia king of the north.”

A murmur passed around the room.

Samuel wasn’t just connected—hewasthe connection. If anyone could dig up dirt on who and what the cartel was bringing in through the docks, it was him.

Mystic exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Dragon Fire is playin’ with the big boys and forgettin’ they’re still a bunch of kids.”

“We use it to our advantage,” Devil said. “Patch trusts his brother, and if Samuel says he can pull something useful, we let him.”

“Trust is a stretch,” Chain muttered, but he didn’t argue.

I leaned forward, my fingers tapping against the wood. “What about Fang?” I asked. “He’s still gunnin’ for Lucy. That doesn’t change no matter how many brothers we bring in.”

Devil’s gaze flicked to me, unreadable. “Lucy’s still our best link to what the cartel is moving. We don’t let her go off on her own again.”

I tensed, my jaw clenching. “That’s not gonna be easy. She doesn’t exactly take orders.”

Chain smirked. “Yeah, no shit.”

A few of the men chuckled, but the humor didn’t last. We all knew what was at stake.

Devil tapped his fingers against the table, a slow, deliberate beat. “Patch wants us to plan this out before they bring the fight to our doorstep. The cartel is the real issue. They’re fucking dangerous, and the shit they’re capable of isn’t something we want to be mixed up in if we don’t have to.”

A low rumble of agreement passed through the room.

I exhaled, my pulse steadying as a familiar feeling settled in my chest. The weight of a coming fight. The knowledge that blood would be spilled, one way or another.

Wrath, Soldier, Snipe, Kickstand, and Jaycee were on their way.

Samuel was feeding us intel.

The cartel was circling, and Dragon Fire was looking for war.

And Lucy—Lucy was still in the middle of it all.

I flexed my fingers, the itch to move, todo something, creeping under my skin.

There had to be a way to get through to Lucy before she tried bailing again.

Because if this war started, and she was still caught up in it?

There’d be no getting her out. Not alive.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

ZEYNEP WAS SITTINGcross-legged on her bed whenI walked in, a book resting on her lap. She looked up as the door creaked open, her lips curving into a soft smile.

“Hey, Lucy,” she said, her voice still raspy but stronger today. “Still here.”

“Yeah,” I said, shutting the door behind me. “Guess you’re stuck with me for a while.”

She laughed lightly, the sound warming something inside me. “Good. I’d miss you.”

I glanced toward the corner. “Your guard dog get lost?”

---