Jordan’s POVThe war didn’t end overnight. It took us months of intentional planning, restructuring and rebuilding trust.Carlos and Lorenzo Moretti not only maintained control of their syndicate but did so under stricter rules. Enough with the senseless bloodshed.” No more betrayals.Alessandro emerged as the power broker but moved to settle relations among erstwhile opponents.What about Gabriel Dravamen? He continued to be a wild card but honoured the pact. It meant Sierra would never have to see him again. He slipped away into the shadows, leaving us in peace.***I should have known that peace was an illusion. The second we made a truce, I felt the claws of the past itch at my back, lying in wait for an opportunity. The life we had struggled to break free from wasn’t going to be free easily. When our fragile new beginning unravelled, it was the enemy without who tore it apart but it was one of our own. Night had descended, cloaking the safehouse in lulling tranquillity. Sierra
Jordan’s POVIt was a lengthy, ruthless and tumultuous struggle. Blood spotted the pavement, and the air was still tinged with gunpowder and sweat. Gabriel Dravamen’s cultists had shaken the very foundation of the city’s underworld when they turned against the men of Carlos Moretti. But now, looking at the rubble, I knew this battle would not last forever. I glanced at Sierra, her face smeared with dirt, her hair a wild tangle from their adventure, but the spark in her eyes was still bright with fierce determination. She had fought for me, she had risked everything, and I’d be damned if I was going to let her spend the rest of her life in constant fear. We had to put an end to this insane battle by hook or crook regardless of how weak I felt.“Jordan…Do you think this battle is worth it,” she asked but I looked at her and suddenly lost my words.“What do you suggest we do?” I asked her after taking time to think on her question for a few minutes.“End it. Reconcile with your enemies
Jordan’s POVThere was a palpable tension in the night air, a heavy mix of unvoiced threats. My fingers flexed at my sides, and every muscle in my body stood up, ready to pounce. The instant the door opened on the van I sensed it. Before us, lined up like a barricade, the fleet of cars stood, their headlights casting harsh beams into the dark, illuminating the figures waiting beyond. Dressed in shades of dark, masked under darkness, armed men stood at attention. Their postures screamed discipline, precision, and most importantly, prepared to unleash hell. From the outside looking in, it was evident these were not just hired guns. They were men trained for combat, their loyalty inextinguishable, and their mission palpable. Carlos Moretti moved like a man in command, rolling the cuffs of his pricey suit as though he wasn’t in the heart of a goddamn battlefield. He flourished on chaos; it had shaped him, and if nothing else, I knew he never walked into a fight he didn’t think he coul
Sierra’s POVSilence enveloped us for a heartbeat, the only noise the drone of the engine and the uneven gasps of our party. Inside the van, the air was thick with anticipation and something more, something dark.Then, as my eyes adjusted to the low-light interior, I froze in my throat. In the corner sat Carlos Moretti, wearing a sleek black suit, and dark glasses on the bridge of his nose. A cigar hung limply from one side of his mouth, a thin wisp of smoke curling up to the ceiling.“You all didn’t know I was here. Well, I accept that compliment you gave earlier,” he said, “Oh, you are welcome,” he barely echoed and pumped out more smoke into the air with reckless abandon.Still talking to himself and all, he chuckled, a slow and gruff laugh that sent a shiver down my spine. It went on too long, stretching that moment into something just disgusting, something grotesque and even annoying, that made my stomach flip.I felt like reaching out to him and smacking him in the face to keep
Sierra’s POVA sharp crack of gunfire pierced the night, and instinct kicked in. Jordan was tumbling down with me as a bullet whined past us and struck the concrete wall behind us.My pulse throbbed so violently that I feared it might rupture my ribs. Dominic was already shooting back, his responses quick and exact. Ethan drew his weapon too, well braced as he shot at the men surrounding us. “Go! Go! Go!” he shouted to his men and directed them with one hand in the air as he plunged them ahead whilst the other hand rested solidly on his gun. He looked in our direction as well and nodded his head for us to move to where the huge crates were stacked.I held Jordan and moved towards the crate whilst Ethan watched our fours ensuring we were behind the crates before going head into the battle that had been staged. I wondered where all the police vans had gone because such chaos and ceaseless firing should have bought them out of their cocoons except they had been bought over.Hiding behin
Sierra’s POVI wrapped my arms around Jordan when balance abandoned him and he walked with me like an old man slowly finding his step. He had just been through a serious coma, and I knew he needed time to get his strength back. His body had not fully recovered, but his spirit, his fighting spirit, was as full as a young man's spirit should be. Every step we took together led us onto shaky ground, but I was unwilling to drop the thread. I wasn’t about to let anything or anyone pull him away from me again. As I led him down the sterile corridor, I kept looking back at him, asking him over and over if he was in pain. "How do you feel? Is anything bothering you? Does anywhere hurt?”We had to put up a brave front, of course, but Jordan shot me a cheeky smile with twinkling eyes that had mischief reflected in them, even with that happening.“You’re babying me too much, Sierra. I'm fine," he pouted back with love in his eyes.I couldn’t help but chuckle, though every fibre of my being wa