MasukAceWe pull into Antonio’s, and I barely have the strength to get out of the car. Paetyn and Antonio help me out and guide me inside. My legs feel like lead, I’m dizzy, and my arm is a live wire of pain. When we get inside the house, they help me down onto the couch. I lie back, trying to catch my breath, my pulse still slowing from loss of blood. Antonio leans over me and says, “I’m calling my personal doctor. He’ll get that bullet out of your arm.”I nod, swallowing hard. Paetyn kneels on the floor next to me, squeezing the hand on my good arm. “I’m so sorry you got hit, Ace.” Her eyes glisten with the tears she’s fighting back. “I’ll be okay. I’ve been shot in the arm before, little bird.” I try a smile, but it’s strained.While we wait, I pull out my phone. I need to clean up the mess at the meat plant. I call a fresh crew of Gambinos and give them the address. “Feed all the bodies into the machines. Get rid of every trace of those cops, and more importantly, every trace that we
PaetynThe basement is quieter now that the jackass cop has gone back upstairs. My wrists ache where the handcuffs bite. Across the room, my father sits cuffed to a radiator, his face bruised, blood dried at the edges of his temple. I look at him, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I say. “I didn’t know who else to call.”He shakes his head, and his voice is firm even under stress. “Don’t apologize, Paetyn. I’m glad you called me. I called Ace before I even left my house. I gave him the address and told him the situation. He doesn’t know these men are dirty cops, but that doesn’t matter. He’s already here, watching everything, so he knows about how many men are upstairs. I had my phone on speaker in my pocket the whole time, giving him clues.” “He’s here already?” I whisper, my throat tight.“Undoubtedly,” he says. “Ace is smart. He won’t rush in blindly.”I try to picture Ace outside, circling this building, watching every movement, every shadow. “How many of your men got killed up
PaetynI’m shoved sideways into the backseat, my shoulder slamming into the door hard enough to knock the air out of me. My body folds awkwardly, my knees hitting the seat in front of me as hands force me down. The door slams. Locks click, sharp, final sounds that make my chest seize. The engine roars, and before I can orient myself, rough hands grab my face and pull fabric tight over my eyes, blindfolding me. I don’t know who they are or who sent them. I saw their faces in the apartment long enough to know I don’t recognize either of them, and now I’m trapped in a car with them with no idea what they want from me or how far they’re willing to go to get it. I don’t even know how this happened. Ace was so careful.I keep replaying the moment before everything went wrong. I told Raya not to order takeout. I told her we couldn’t answer the door for anyone. We were hungry, sure, but hunger doesn’t kill you. There was nothing in the apartment except a bruised apple and half a sleeve of cr
AceIt’s midnight when I pull into Enzo’s driveway, the mansion lit up enough to see every window. I step out of the car fully armed. I’m prepared for Enzo to be here because if someone managed to post bail for him, he’ll be sitting in his house, thinking he’s untouchable. I’m ready for anything as I move toward the front door, and when I step inside, I see several members of the gang have already arrived. One of the men calls my name, then another, not in challenge but in greeting. They speak about the raid, about the cops I took out, and about how I got away with my woman. I listen, letting them say what they need to say. In their world, honor is earned, and what I did matters. I did what had to be done, and they saw it.I raise my hand and bring the room to quiet. “I appreciate your loyalty. Now, if anyone gets word that Enzo is getting out on bail,” I say, “I need to know immediately. If anyone helps him, moves money, makes calls, or does anything to get him free, they will answ
AcePaetyn’s breathing evens out, her head resting on my chest, and I can feel the tension in her body fading. She’s finally asleep. I roll over and out of bed, taking careful steps, making sure not to wake her, and reach for my clothes. The bunker is quiet, the only sound the buzz of the surveillance monitors. I get dressed quickly and slip my phone into my pocket.The door is heavy as I push it open into the cold night air. A few steps away from the bunker, I raise the phone and hunt for a signal. The screen flickers; finally, two bars. I make the call, my voice low, the conversation brief: logistics, timing, and location. I end it and pocket the phone, scanning the surrounding darkness. No movement, no unexpected eyes. Good.I slip back inside the bunker, lock the door, and settle into the recliner. Paetyn remains asleep, the monitors casting a glow across the room. I keep my eyes on the screens, switching between camera feeds. The night is long, but I don’t let myself drift. Every
PaetynThe boat tears across the water with the engine roaring, the shoreline blurring into a dark smear of trees and shadows. My hands are numb where I grip the seat.“Where are we going?” I shout over the wind.Ace doesn’t look at me at first. His eyes are locked forward. Then, he flicks me a backward glance. “Enzo has an underground bunker in the woods not far from here. If we get there before anyone else,” he continues, “we can lock it down. There are surveillance cameras inside that show the full perimeter. We’ll know if anyone comes looking for us. We’ll be safe.”Safe. I cling to the word as the boat slams over a wave, making my stomach lurch. Suddenly, the dock appears out of the dark near a narrow stretch of wood that juts into the water. Ace turns the engine off, momentum carrying us in. The boat bumps the edge with a hollow thud.“Listen to me,” he says, grabbing my arm. His grip is firm but not rough. “I need you to hide in the woods just off the path. Stay low. Don’t move







