Chapter 44: Crossing the Line

The shadow on the pier was moving too deliberately to be one of the orchestrator’s hired hands. My stomach sank as I tried to focus through the fog. Even Elliot my dad’s best friend paused, his normally unshakable composure faltering for the briefest fraction of a second.

“I don’t know who that is,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing. “But it’s not on our plan.”

I gritted my teeth. Plans were fragile things. In reality, we were always improvising, reacting to chaos that no one could predict. Marcus my stepbrother was scanning the perimeter with his usual precision, lips pressed tight as his mind calculated angles, distances, escape routes.

And Liam, my sister’s mate, leaned against a crate, eyes tracking the mysterious figure, tension coiled like a spring in his muscles. His hand brushed the grip of the weapon at his hip, ready to strike.

I swallowed the fear tightening my throat. Another threat didn’t mean I had to freeze. I had a sister to protect, and a trio of men I had learned to trust in the moments that mattered most.

The figure stepped into a narrow shaft of moonlight. A woman. I almost didn’t register the shock before her voice rang through the fog, smooth and cutting.

“You weren’t supposed to get this far,” she said, her words laced with satisfaction and danger. “But I like surprises.”

I froze. A new player. My mind raced. Why now? Why her?

“She’s a distraction,” Elliot whispered, brushing against my arm again, almost instinctively. “We can’t let her split our focus. Eyes on the sister first. Everyone else later.”

I nodded, heart hammering. “We can’t ignore her either. If she’s here, she knows the layout. She’ll anticipate our moves.”

Marcus’s voice came over comms. “Split. I’ll cover the rear. Elliot, flank left with her. Liam, take the center. You.” He pointed at me, “get to your sister and secure her position.”

I moved, keeping low, stepping carefully over the wooden planks slick with fog. My sister’s eyes were wide, but she gave me a subtle nod trust. It was a tiny gesture, but it bolstered every ounce of courage I had.

I reached her, brushing the damp strands of hair from her face. “We’re getting out,” I whispered. “You trust me?”

Her lips trembled, but she nodded.

“Good,” I said, swallowing a lump in my throat. “Because we don’t have time for fear tonight.”

The mysterious woman was circling us now, keeping her distance but never breaking eye contact. Her presence alone made the fog feel thicker, heavier. Every movement we made seemed magnified, every step louder.

I glanced at Elliot. “What’s your call?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He studied her, calculating, weighing risks. Then he whispered, almost to himself, “She’s testing us. Don’t give her leverage.”

I didn’t need him to explain further. I understood. Every second we spent reacting to her was a second closer to failure.

I signaled to Liam, who moved into position like a coiled spring. Marcus covered the exit, ensuring no one could slip past unnoticed. Together, we formed a delicate web of protection around my sister.

“Move!” I hissed. My sister clutched my hand, and we began inching toward a small boat tied to the edge of the pier. Water lapped against the hull, the fog rising in thick, ghostly swirls.

And then she struck. The woman lunged from the shadows, knife glinting in the moonlight. I dodged instinctively, my pulse screaming through my veins. Elliot intercepted, their hands colliding in a brutal clash that echoed against the wooden planks.

Liam fired a warning shot into the air, and the sound cracked like lightning, startling both my sister and the intruder. Marcus shouted over comms, directing our movements with surgical precision.

I could feel my adrenaline burning like wildfire. We were moving through chaos, but I refused to let panic rule me. Every step, every breath, had to be deliberate.

The woman’s attacks became more desperate, slashing and weaving with precision. I realized then that she wasn’t just strong she was trained, methodical, and patient. Every time I thought she was cornered, she shifted, exploiting the smallest gap in our defense.

“She’s good,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

Elliot’s jaw tightened. “Too good. Don’t let her draw you in.”

I nodded, though the tension between us was impossible to ignore. His closeness, the brush of his hand against mine—it distracted me, even as danger loomed. I had to push the thought away. Focus. Survival first.

We finally reached the boat. My sister scrambled in, and Liam helped her down, keeping his gaze fixed on the intruder. Marcus covered our rear. Elliot engaged her fully now, each move a calculated battle of strength and strategy.

I took a deep breath, helping my sister steady herself. “We’re almost out,” I whispered. But even as I spoke, a sense of unease prickled at the back of my neck. Something wasn’t right.

A second shadow detached itself from the fog another attacker, silent, moving with impossible precision. And before I could react, I felt the tip of a blade graze my shoulder. Pain flared sharply, but I ignored it, pushing forward with everything I had.

The boat rocked as Liam started the engine. The fog swirled, the water slapping against the hull, and we began to pull away from the pier. My sister clutched my hand, breathing hard, and I tried to steady myself.

But the woman wasn’t done. She grabbed a rope tied to the dock and swung herself toward us, landing on the edge of the boat. Her presence was immediate, threatening, impossible to ignore.

“Not so fast,” she hissed. “You think leaving this behind will save you?”

I stared at her, then glanced at Elliot my dad’s best friend whose hands were already on her, trying to push her back. Marcus adjusted his aim, and Liam’s grip on the railing tightened.

I realized something then. We weren’t just fighting to escape we were fighting to define the rules of engagement. And this woman had just thrown a new one into the mix.

As the boat surged forward through the fog, the woman clung to the side, eyes blazing. Behind us, a faint shadow moved on the water another figure waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I gritted my teeth, heart hammering. Tonight, nothing would be simple.