Chapter 4

I stared at the photograph in my trembling hands, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. The woman in the picture had kind eyes and a gentle smile that reminded me of someone's mother. Elena. Rex's Elena.

The folder contained police reports, newspaper clippings, and handwritten notes in Rex's jagged scrawl. Each page revealed a truth that cut deeper than the last.

"There she is," I whispered, finding a grainy surveillance photo of my father—my hero—standing beside Silas Kane outside what appeared to be a warehouse. The timestamp was three days before Elena's murder.

My fingers shook as I read Rex's notes: "Vance took the money. Led them right to her. Set the whole thing up."

"No," I breathed, the word catching in my throat. "That's not possible."

But the evidence was right there. My father—the man whose death had fueled my vengeance—had been dirty. He'd taken money from Silas Kane to betray Elena, Rex's girlfriend. He'd led the Savage Lords right to her.

I sank to the floor, the documents scattered around me like fallen leaves. Everything I believed about my father, about Rex, about my mission... it was all wrong.

"You found it."

I jerked my head up. Rex stood in the doorway, his massive frame blocking the exit. He wasn't drunk. His eyes were clear and cold as winter.

"How long?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"Since your second night here." He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "Did you really think you were that good an actress?"

I scrambled to my feet, backing away until I hit the wall. "You've been playing me this whole time."

"I wanted to see how far you'd go." Rex moved closer, his presence suffocating. "How much you knew. Who sent you."

"I came for my father," I whispered.

"Your father got what he deserved." Rex's voice was flat, emotionless. "He sold Elena to Silas for fifty thousand dollars. Led them to her apartment while I was out of town."

The truth crashed over me like a wave. My father hadn't been killed because he was a good cop investigating the Iron Hounds. He'd been killed because he was a liability—a loose end Silas needed to tie up.

"I don't believe you," I said, but the conviction had drained from my voice.

Rex laughed, the sound devoid of humor. "You don't have to believe me. You just have to prove your loyalty."

"What do you mean?"

"We have a job tonight. Drug run to Savage Lords territory." His eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "You're coming with me."

---

The warehouse district was abandoned at midnight, the streets empty except for our convoy of three motorcycles and a black SUV. I rode behind Rex, my body pressed against his back, my hands gripping his waist tighter than necessary.

"Remember," he growled over the rumble of engines, "you're just a mule. Keep your head down."

Two other Iron Hounds rode with us—Butcher, Rex's loyal right-hand man, and a newer member called Snake. Both eyed me with suspicion.

"This is a test," Butcher had told me before we left. "Either you're with us or you're against us. No in-between."

The Savage Lords territory was marked by graffiti-covered walls and abandoned buildings. Our destination was an old factory at the edge of the industrial zone.

"We're meeting their enforcer," Rex explained as we parked outside the rusted chain-link fence. "Jax handles all their drug trade."

A chill ran through me at the mention of Jax's name. I'd heard stories about Silas Kane's sadistic enforcer—how he enjoyed making examples of people who crossed him.

We approached the factory entrance, our footsteps echoing in the darkness. Rex carried a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, while Butcher and Snake flanked me protectively.

The heavy metal door swung open before we reached it.

"Welcome to our humble territory," a voice called from inside.

Jax stood in the center of the dimly lit space, flanked by four Savage Lords members. His face was a map of scars, his smile revealing teeth that had been filed to points.

"Rex," he greeted, ignoring the rest of us. "Bold move bringing a woman to a drug deal."

"She's just cargo," Rex replied coolly.

Jax's eyes found mine, lingering with predatory interest. "Pretty cargo."

Something felt wrong. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on.

"It's a trap," I whispered to Rex, but he was already moving.

Too late.

The door slammed shut behind us as more Savage Lords emerged from the shadows. Guns appeared everywhere, pointing at our small group.

"Silas sends his regards," Jax said, his smile widening. "And his invitation for you and your little dancer to stay with us for a while."

Rex's hand found mine, squeezing once—a warning or a comfort, I couldn't tell which.

"Take them," Jax ordered, and rough hands grabbed me from all sides.

As they dragged me away from Rex, I caught his eye one last time. In that moment, I saw something I never expected—fear. Not for himself, but for me.

And I realized with startling clarity that whatever game we were playing had just become infinitely more dangerous.