Chapter Nine: Lines Crossed

Three days later, Raven found herself deeper in Diamondback territory than ever before, sitting across from Venom in his private office above the Black Fang. The room was a study in controlled menace—expensive furniture mixed with obvious displays of wealth and power. Stacks of cash sat openly on side tables, and she could see the outline of at least three different weapons within easy reach of his chair.

"Your first assignment went well," Venom said, pouring himself a glass of aged whiskey. He didn't offer her one, which she took as both an insult and a test. "Snake was impressed with your composure under pressure."

"I just followed instructions," Raven replied, keeping her voice neutral. She'd spent hours preparing for this meeting, rehearsing responses and reactions that would reinforce her cover story.

"Modesty is refreshing in this business," Venom smiled, but the expression never reached his cold eyes. "Most people who work for me are eager to prove how important they are, how much they deserve my trust and attention. You seem content to be useful without being flashy."

"I learned a long time ago that flashy gets you noticed by the wrong people," she said, drawing on memories of her time in prison. "I just want to do good work and find out what really happened to Michael."

"Ah yes, your tragic boyfriend." Venom leaned back in his chair, studying her with the intensity of a scientist examining a specimen. "Tell me, what do you think happened to him?"

The question was definitely a trap, but Raven had expected it. "I think he got involved in something he didn't understand and paid the price for his inexperience. But I also think someone used him, manipulated him into making mistakes that got him killed."

"Interesting theory. And if you discovered who that someone was?"

"I'd want to know why," she said carefully. "Michael wasn't stupid, just naive. Someone had to convince him that betraying your organization was worth the risk."

Venom nodded slowly, as if she'd passed some internal test. "You're more perceptive than most, Ms. Steele. Which brings me to why you're here today. I have a job that requires someone with your particular combination of intelligence and anonymity."

He slid a photograph across the desk—a warehouse she didn't recognize, surrounded by high fences and security cameras. "This facility belongs to the Savage Saints. Tomorrow night, they're expecting a large shipment of pharmaceutical supplies that my organization has a legitimate claim to."

Raven's blood turned to ice, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. "You want me to help steal from the Saints?"

"I want you to help recover what's rightfully ours," Venom corrected. "The Saints have been intercepting our shipments for months, cutting into profits that fund important community initiatives."

The lie was delivered with such smooth conviction that Raven almost believed it herself. She knew from her time with the Saints that they were involved in drug trafficking, but Venom's organization was far worse—human trafficking, extortion, and violence that made the Saints look like choir boys in comparison.

"What would you need me to do?"

"Simple reconnaissance. Drive by the warehouse at specific times, note security rotations and personnel changes. You won't be involved in the actual recovery operation—that's far too dangerous for someone of your limited experience."

Relief flooded through her, though she was careful not to show it. If she was only gathering intelligence, she might be able to warn Jax without compromising her cover. "When do you need this information?"

"Tomorrow morning. The operation happens tomorrow night, so timing is crucial." Venom's eyes narrowed slightly. "I trust this won't be a problem? You do understand that the Saints are our enemies, responsible for significant harm to our organization and community?"

"Of course," Raven nodded, playing the role of eager recruit. "If they killed Michael, then they're my enemies too."

"Excellent. There's one more thing." Venom stood and moved to a wall safe, removing a small device that looked like a garage door opener. "This is a signal booster. During your reconnaissance, you'll need to plant it somewhere near the warehouse perimeter. It will help our communications during the operation."

Raven took the device, noting its weight and design. It looked sophisticated, probably military grade. "Where exactly should I place it?"

"Anywhere with a clear line of sight to the building. A telephone pole, fence post, even a parked car if necessary. The important thing is that it's positioned and activated before tomorrow evening."

As she pocketed the device, Raven realized she was being asked to help the Diamondbacks attack the Saints' operation. Every instinct screamed at her to refuse, to find an excuse to walk away. But she also knew that backing out now would destroy months of careful planning and likely get her killed.

"I understand," she said.

"Good. Report back to me tomorrow night with your observations. If this operation is successful, it will prove that you're ready for more significant responsibilities within our organization."

The meeting ended with Venom's assistant escorting her out through a different exit than she'd used to enter. Standard security protocol, but it also meant she couldn't retrace her steps or identify all the access points to his office. The Diamondbacks were professional, which made them far more dangerous than simple thugs.

She drove aimlessly for an hour, making sure she wasn't being followed before heading to a secure location where she could contact Jax. The phone booth outside a defunct gas station would have to do—using her cell phone would leave electronic traces that could be discovered later.

"It's me," she said when Jax answered his encrypted line. "We need to meet. Now."

"What's wrong?"

"They're planning to hit your warehouse tomorrow night. The one on Industrial Boulevard."

Silence on the other end, then Jax's voice, deadly quiet: "How do you know this?"

"Because they want me to help with reconnaissance. I'm supposed to scout your security and plant a signal booster to help with their communications."

"Son of a bitch." She could hear him moving, probably reaching for weapons or calling his lieutenants. "Did you agree to do it?"

"I had to. Refusing would have blown my cover and probably gotten me killed." Raven pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the phone booth, exhaustion and stress weighing on her shoulders. "But now I don't know what to do. If I help them, I'm betraying you. If I don't, they'll know I'm a double agent."

"You do exactly what they asked," Jax said, his voice firm with decision. "You scout our warehouse, you plant their device, and you report back to Venom with detailed intelligence."

"Jax, I can't—"

"Yes, you can. Because we're going to give them exactly what they want—a warehouse full of valuable shipments, light security, and what appears to be a perfect opportunity." His voice carried the hint of a savage smile. "What they won't know is that we'll be ready for them."

The plan was audacious and dangerous, using her as bait to lure the Diamondbacks into a trap. But it was also their best chance to deal a crippling blow to Venom's organization while maintaining her cover for future operations.

"What if something goes wrong? What if they figure out I'm working for you?"

"Then I'll burn their organization to the ground and salt the earth where it stood," Jax promised, his voice carrying the weight of absolute conviction. "But nothing's going to happen to you, Raven. I won't let it."

The possessiveness in his tone sent shivers through her, reminding her of the attraction that simmered between them even in the midst of war and deception. She closed her eyes, imagining his strong arms around her, his hazel eyes dark with desire as he whispered promises against her skin.

"I have to go," she said, before the fantasy could overwhelm her practical judgment. "They might be watching."

"Be careful. And remember—no matter what happens tomorrow night, you're under my protection. Anyone who tries to hurt you will answer to me personally."

As she hung up the phone and walked back to her car, Raven felt the weight of the signal booster in her pocket like a lead weight. Tomorrow night, she would help orchestrate an attack on the man she was falling in love with, trusting that his plan would keep them all alive.

In the world of motorcycle clubs and gang wars, trust was a luxury that could get you killed. But as she drove through the neon-lit streets of Blackridge, heading toward an uncertain future, she realized she trusted Jax Savage with her life.

She only hoped that trust wasn't misplaced.