Page 95 of Knuckles & Knives
But first, I need to keep Axel alive long enough to help me do it.
Somewhere out there, Alexander Cross waits, thinking he’s still in control, but what he doesn’t know is that we’ve already stopped playing his game.
Now it’s ours.
CHAPTER 29
Three days of recovery later, Axel is finally mobile enough to participate in our war council, though the healing burns across his chest and the careful way he holds his left arm remind us all how close we came to losing him. I watch him move around our upgraded safe house. Marcus found us better accommodations after Cross’s people nearly traced our old location.
We’re different now. Harder, perhaps, but also more unified. Dom has accepted that protecting me sometimes means letting me lead us into danger. Kieran has found identity beyond his family name, forged in the crucible of choosing love over blood. Marcus has moved from analytical observer to emotional participant, his investment in our survival now personal rather than professional. And Axel has discovered what he’s been searching for his entire chaotic life—a family worth dying for, worth living for.
As for me, I’ve stopped pretending that what exists between us is purely strategic. These four men have restructured their lives around loving me, and I’ve finally admitted to myselfthat I love them back—all of them, completely and without reservation.
“The intelligence Axel gathered confirms our worst fears,” Marcus reports, his multiple screens displaying encrypted communications, financial transfers, and surveillance footage. “Alexander Cross has been orchestrating events for the past five years, positioning himself to inherit both the Blackwood and Sterling empires.”
“Including my father’s murder,” I say. Cross was more than my father’s lieutenant—he was family, the uncle who taught me strategy, who helped shape my tactical thinking.
“Vincent trusted him completely,” Kieran adds, his voice carrying the bitter wisdom of recent family betrayal. “Cross had access to everything—security protocols, financial networks, personal information about allies and enemies.”
“Which is why he’s been able to stay ahead of us,” Dom concludes grimly. “He knows how we think, how we operate, what our weaknesses are.”
“Knew,” Axel corrects from his position on the couch, his wild energy subdued but still present. “Past tense.”
He’s right. The man who taught me strategy five years ago never could have anticipated the transformation that’s occurred—not just in me, but in all of us. Cross planned for Raven Blackwood, the cold strategist seeking revenge. He didn’t plan for the woman who would inspire four dangerous men to choose love over everything else they valued and who would choose them in return.
“Show me his current operations,” I order Marcus.
The screens shift to display a complex web of criminal enterprises, legitimate businesses, and political connections that Cross has woven together over half a decade. It’s impressive, I have to admit, the kind of long-term strategic thinking that made him invaluable to my father.
“He’s been consolidating power systematically,” Marcus explains. “Eliminating competitors, absorbing smaller organizations, building a network that spans legitimate and criminal enterprises. The Sterling Syndicate was just one piece of his larger plan.”
“And now that they’re neutralized?”
“Now he moves to the final phase,” Kieran says, his ice-blue eyes hard with understanding. “Eliminating you and claiming the unified empire he’s built.”
“When?” I ask.
“Soon,” Axel answers, his voice carrying the certainty of someone who’s seen Cross’s operational center. “The communications I intercepted suggested a timeline measured in days, not weeks.”
“What about the Kowalskis?” I ask.
Marcus nods. “Cross played them like the Sterlings. He fed them territory then hollowed them out from the inside. They don’t even know they’re pawns yet.”
“Then we’ll make sure they never become anything more.”
I study the tactical displays, my mind automatically calculating advantages and vulnerabilities, strengths and weaknesses. Cross has superior numbers, better equipment, more resources, but he’s also assuming that he’s still playing against predictable opponents.
“He’s going to come here,” I realize, the pattern suddenly clear. “To this location, or wherever we establish as our base. Cross doesn’t just want to kill me. He wants to demonstrate his superiority by dismantling everything I’ve built.”
“Let him come,” Dom growls, his protective instincts channeling into anticipated violence. “We’ll be ready.”
“Will we?” I challenge. “Cross trained me, taught me most of what I know about strategy and tactics. He understands how I think, how I plan, how I fight.”
“Five years ago, maybe,” Marcus interjects. “But not now. Not after everything we’ve been through together.”
“We need to change our approach entirely,” I decide. “Abandon every tactical principle Cross taught me, every strategic framework he’d expect me to use.”
“What do you have in mind?” Kieran asks.
