Page 116 of His Fury

His face twitched. Barely. But the message landed.

“All right, I’ll let him know.” He tipped his head to me. “Your way. For now.”

I left him standing there, turning back to my club, not giving a flying fuck I’d just turned my back on the most dangerous man I’d ever met. I had work to do. I didn’t have time for their fucking tests.

I walked back into Elixir, looking around at the patrons. Familiar faces—all power-hungry, none brave enough to challenge my presence. Some were surprised to see me walk back in alone. The message landed here just as it had outside with Angelo. They nodded their greetings. I nodded back.

No words. No need.

I moved through the rooms as I had done a thousand times before, observing hands shake, cash exchange, and products vanish into expensive coats.

Presence.

It was everything in this world. Because if they didn’t see you, they started to forget what you were capable of.

And I had no intention of being forgotten.

Rye was sitting at the back table. His phone was on the table in front of him, the screen dark and his expression darker the longer it took for me to make my way there. “You went out alone,” he said flatly.

“You know I needed to,” I replied, sliding into the seat across from him. “I thought it might help you unfuck your attitude.”

His mouth twitched. “It didn’t.”

I leaned back, folding my arms. “Tell me.”

He flipped the phone toward me. On the screen was a transaction summary—amounts, routing paths, and shell company names that were vaguely familiar.

“New money coming in from the Ferraro side,” he said. “It’s too much to run through the usual fronts.”

I scanned the screen, my brow furrowing. “They want it by Friday.”

Rye laughed. He didn’t give a fuck more than one head turned our way. “Then they may as well as ask me to shit rainbows.”

I gave a quiet laugh. “Quite the image.”

“No shit,” he muttered. “You said yes?”

“Or I’m shitting blood, not rainbows.” I took the phone from him. “So we use the new funnel that just opened, skim the top, and make sure there’s enough paperwork to keep anyone poking their noses in satisfied.”

“This is insanity,” he muttered, looking down.

“It’s a punishment.” I could practically hear the snarl in my voice. “If I can’t deliver this, they’ll only get bolder until I need to make a move.” I looked away from the main club, my voice low so only he could hear. “I can’t fight them all. I need allies.”

“The best ones come with the biggest guns,” Rye mused. “You can’t look desperate.”

I glanced at him sharply. “I’ve never been desperate yet.”

“They’re watching how you move now that Barnie’s in the picture.”

There it was. I braced myself for his lecture. “Of course they are.”

He leaned forward, his voice low. “This is where it starts, Zayn. One misstep. One poor choice. Just once they think you’re distracted.”

“I’m not distracted.”

He didn’t blink, but his look was considering. “Okay.”

My jaw flexed. This wasn’t how I wanted this to happen, but if this was the call, then I needed to make sure they knewnothing had changed. I tapped the phone once before sliding it back. “We push it through the venue accounts and the construction site. Staggered drop. Keep the numbers low and the paper trail tighter. No direct links.”

---