Chapter 34:Fixing Alliances (Sienna)

The floorboards beneath us vibrated violently.

Radek instantly drew his sidearm, stepping in front of us, his radio bursting into a storm of static and frantic shouts.

"Boss, they didn't just cut the power!" a guard’s voice screamed through the speaker over the heavy chatter of automatic gunfire. "The black vans smashed through the lower security barrier, they are on the driveway"

The radio transmission cut into high-pitched static.

Out in the snow-covered courtyard, right outside the library windows, a blinding spotlight ignited, pinning us in its beam.

Outside, the ragged chatter of automatic gunfire echoed sharply against the frozen pine trees of the mountain pass. The Vance tactical units had breached the lower gates. They were inside the perimeter.

Yet, inside the dim, smoke-scented air of the library, the loudest sound in the world was the heavy, rhythmic thrum of my own pulse.

He bought my contract to keep me safe.

The words spun through my mind like a centrifuge, tearing down every single defensive wall I had meticulously built over the past month.

I had been entirely wrong.

While I was drowning in thought

Radek said, looking directly towards me. "They’re bypassing the secondary courtyard. Two minutes before they hit the doors. Boss, we need to move to the safe room below the gym."

Jaxson didn’t move. He was still kneeling on one knee beside my chair, his large hands resting on my knees with his eyes locked entirely on my face.

Slowly, Jaxson stood up.

The movement wasn’t hesitant. The subtle limp he had exaggerated for the league’s medical board weeks ago was entirely gone, then he stood on his height.

He reached down, taking my hand in his, and pulled me up from the armchair.

There was no professional distance left between us,no clinical designation of doctor and patient, it was something more closer.

"Sienna," he said, his voice low, vibrating against my skin. "Listen to me. Whatever happens out there tonight, you are not alone anymore. Do you understand?"

I swallowed hard, looking up into those fierce, unwavering eyes. The last lingering remnants of my fear replaced by a cold, crystallized resolve that matched his own. I didn't pull my hand away. Instead, my fingers tightened around his, locking our grip together.

"I'm not hiding in a safe room, Jaxson," I whispered, my voice steady and clear in the echoing dark. "My uncle wants to destroy your career and pin my name to his crimes? Then we fight back. Together."

A slow, fierce smile cut across Jaxson’s sharp jawline. It wasn't the arrogant, media-trained grin of a superstar athlete. It was something far more dangerous the look of a man who had just found his equal in the trenches.

"God, I love it when you’re bloodthirsty," he murmured, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips before rising back to my eyes with an intensity that burned right through the chill of my spine.

Before Radek could say something else, a sharp, high-pitched chime cut through the ambient hum of the estate’s backup generator.

Ping. Ping-ping.

It wasn't a standard email notification. It was a rhythmic, encrypted data-handshake, the unmistakable signature of a secure dark-web relay node.

Radek froze mid-stride, his head snapping toward a heavy, military-grade ruggedized terminal sitting on a side console near the fireplace.

"That’s not local," Radek said, his brow furrowing as he holstered his sidearm and strode rapidly across the hardwood floor. He slammed his fingers down on the physical keyboard, punching a three-step biometric decryption sequence.

"What is it?" Jaxson asked, keeping one arm securely braced around my waist, pulling me half a step closer as he watched the screen over Radek’s broad shoulder.

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Could it be a trap? A payload from Bronisław’s IT team?"

"Negative," Radek said, hitting a final execution key. "The security handshake uses a private cryptographic key only one person outside this room possesses."

The screen blinked, clearing away the cascade of green code to reveal a single, uncompressed file archive accompanied by a text message string.

My breath hitched. "Kaja."

Radek clicked his mouse, expanding the primary attachment. A large, multi-page P*F document opened on the tactical display, stamped with the official corporate letterhead of an elite biomedical manufacturing firm based in Munich the exact company that supplied the athletic gear for the regional league.

I leaned in closer, my eyes scanning the dense columns of inventory serial numbers, shipping manifests, and digital authorization signatures.

"Look right here," I whispered, pointing a trembling finger at the center of the screen. "Read line forty-two."

Radek highlighted the text, zooming in until the characters filled the ruggedized display.

ITEM: CUSTOM BIO-MECHANICAL JOINT BRACING (MODEL V-99).

SPECIFICATION: INTEGRATED MICRO-VIBRATION FREQUENCY ACTUATOR.

CLIENT PURCHASING ENTITY: VANCE SPORTS LEGACY (DIRECT EXECUTIVE ORDER: B. VANCE).

SHIPPING DESTINATION: KRAKÓW EAGLES LOCKER ROOM PRE-GAME MAINTENANCE BAY.

Beneath the purchase order was a scanned digital signature Bronisław Vance’s unmistakable, authorized executive sign-off, dated exactly two days before the championship match where Jaxson’s knee was shattered.

The silence in the library became absolute. The distant sound of gunfire outside seemed to fade into a vacuum.

We didn't just have circumstantial evidence anymore. We had the smoking gun. Kaja hadn't just bypassed the firewall; she had stolen the receipt for the murder weapon.

Radek looked up from the screen, his jaw set like granite. "Well, boss. Looks like we have everything we need to burn his empire to the ground."

Before anyone else could speak, the heavy oak doors at the end of the library exploded inward in a splintering crash of wood and iron, and the sharp beam of tactical flashlights swept across the dark room.