Page 30 of Wrecker

“Stack it,” I said. “I’ll call in the marker when it counts.”

He grinned and killed the feed.

I was about to leave when my burner buzzed on the table. I didn’t even look at the screen before answering. Only one person used that number.

“Yeah.”

Deviant didn’t bother with hello. “You’re gonna want to hear this.”

I grunted—my version of “go ahead.”

“Eclipse is circling the fucking drain,” he said. “Their golden boy—Blackthorn Properties—is getting nailed with a class-action. Billion-dollar lawsuit, Wrecker. All those families from the collapse sites are coming for blood. And Eclipse? They underwrote all of it.”

I let out a low whistle. “So if the buildings went down because of faulty materials…”

“They’re on the hook for every cent,” he confirmed. “But here’s the thing—if it’s sabotage? If someone made those buildings fall? Then Eclipse isn’t responsible for the damages. Just owes a fat refund to Blackthorn.”

“Which means Eclipse has motive to make those collapses look like someone else’s fault.”

“Exactly. And I’m positive they’ve been laying down bribes like fucking breadcrumbs. Two shell companies have been getting sizable transfers in the past six months. One’s a front for whoever’s acting as the state ‘consultant’ on the failure reports.”

“And the other?” I asked, though I was beginning to formulate a suspicion.

He paused. “Still tracing it. But I have Peyton cross-referencing the timelines. If the pattern holds, three more structures haven’t dropped yet.”

“When’s the court date?”

“Two weeks. If they’re gonna make those buildings disappear, it’s gotta be before then.”

I scrubbed a hand through my hair, every muscle in my shoulders going tight again.

“Keep digging,” I said. “I want names, faces, and fucking time stamps.”

“Already on it. I’ll update you soon.”

I hung up and turned to Midnight, who was already watching me with that expression he got when shit smelled worse than usual.

“Put someone on Blackthorn.” We were already watching Eclipse. “I want eyes on every exec., every site. If anything fucking moves, I want to know before it happens.”

He nodded. “I’ll tap Storm and Wolf. You think we’ll find evidence?”

“If we don’t,” I said, already pulling out my phone, “we better catch the bastards in the fucking act.”

I made the calls—old favors, the kind that cost time and blood. A few of my engineering contacts were gonna sweep those three sites top to bottom. I wanted prints, fibers, residue. Anything they could get before the wrecking crew showed up. If there was no trail, we’d post guards and wait in the dark.

When the last call ended, I headed straight for the compound.

The moment I walked into my room, the scent hit me—cinnamon and vanilla. I was suddenly hungry. And not for the breakfast I hadn’t eaten this morning.

Peyton was perched on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, her hair pulled into a messy bun. A manila folder sat in her lap, her fingers tapping against it like she couldn’t wait another second.

The look on her face told me she’d found something.

“You won’t believe this,” she said, standing and holding out the file.

I took it, my fingers brushing hers as I flipped it open. Inside were printed screenshots, corporate filings, and a half-dozen profile shots—men in tactical gear, caught mid-step.

My blood turned to ice.

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