All Chapters of The King’s Wrong Captive: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

James spreads the maps across the table again, this time cleaner—no blood, no alarms, just routes and names.Aria stands opposite him, hands braced on the edge like she’s already inside the building we’re planning to breach.“We need more information,” James says. “Confirmed movements. Names. Timelines.”Aria nods once. “Then I know where to get it.”I don’t like the way she says that.“Talk,” I tell her.She looks up at me. “My father’s club. The one on the south side. If I walk in there—alive—it’ll stun them. My brothers won’t expect it. No one will.”James’s jaw tightens. “That’s a suicide run.”“It’s shock,” Aria counters. “And shock makes people sloppy. I’ll get the jump on them before they recover.”“You’re not going in alone,” I say immediately.She exhales, already irritated. “I didn’t say—”“You’re not,” I repeat. “End of discussion.”James nods. “Agreed.”The room heats up fast.“I know that place,” Aria snaps. “Every corner. Every exit.”“And they know you,” I fire back. “W

We move quickly, slipping into the car with practiced ease.The doors shut with a solid thunk, sealing us into the dark interior. City lights streak past the windows, neon and streetlamps blurring together as the engine hums beneath us. For a few seconds, no one speaks.Then I turn toward Danika, lowering my voice.“I’ll give you the layout.”She leans in immediately, elbows on her knees, all focus. No judgment. No hesitation.“The front looks busy,” I begin. “But security’s lazy. Two bouncers at the door. One real, one decorative. The real one checks hands, not waistlines. He’s looking for blades, not guns.”Rocco lets out a quiet snort from the front seat. “Figures.”“They rotate every four hours,” I continue. “Which means by now they’re bored and overconfident.”Danika nods. “Good combination.”“There’s a service entrance on the east side,” I say. “Keypad. Code hasn’t changed in years—my father hated change. Said it made people careless. It’s still 4-1-7-9.”Danika repeats it under

I grab Adam’s phone before he can even think to stop me.My hands are steady when I dial.Too steady.Danika keeps her heel planted on his chest as he tries—and fails—to push himself upright. She’s strong. Not just naturally. Trained, maybe. Not like me, but enough to hold her own. Enough to keep him down.The phone rings.Once.Twice.Three times.On the fourth ring, someone answers.It’s not my mother.“Put her on,” I say immediately.The man on the other end laughs.Low. Amused.“Afraid that won’t be possible,” he says. “The dead don’t answer phones.”The line goes dead.For a second, I just stare at the screen.Then I glance up at the clock on the wall.11:55 p.m.They didn’t wait.My breath leaves me in a slow, broken exhale.Rage doesn’t explode.It condenses.Danika is suddenly in front of me, hands on my shoulders. “Aria—hey. Look at me.”I don’t blink.“I’m fine,” I say, and the fact that my voice doesn’t shake scares me more than anything else.Behind her, Adam is coughing,

The moment I step inside, the house shifts.Grief stays upstairs.Work starts here.“James,” I say without slowing. “I want everything you can find on the Crows. Especially their president.”He’s already pulling his tablet out. “Timeframe?”“Now,” I answer. “And anyone initiated in the last three years. Names, locations, prior affiliations. I want to know who bled to get in.”James nods once and turns away, already dialing.“Marco,” I say, pivoting. “Call our friends.”He grimaces. “Which ones?”“The ones who don’t officially exist,” I reply. “FBI contacts. On the payroll, off the books, or desperate enough to talk. Have them tell you what they know about the Crows. Then we cross-reference everything James brings back.”Marco hesitates only a second. “Got it.”“Rocco,” I add, already moving toward my office. “Security sweep. Full rotation change. I want fresh eyes on every shift tonight.”Rocco straightens. “Because of Adam.”“Yes,” I say. “Because once Aria’s brothers realize who kil

I hurry down the stairs and step closer to Dante, my bare feet silent on the cool floor amid the shuffle of the others. The room's energy shifts around us, but my focus narrows to him—the way his chest rises and falls too sharply, the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. He's unraveling, thread by thread, and I can't let that happen. Not when I know how to fix it."Dante," I murmur, keeping my voice low so only he hears. "Do we have time for a quick shower?"His eyes snap to mine, surprise flickering there. He glances at the clock on the wall, then back at me. "Yeah. We've got a few minutes before Danika's back."I don't hesitate. My hand wraps around his forearm, firm but gentle, and I tug him toward the stairs. He stumbles a step, caught off guard, but follows as I lead him up, away from the chaos below."What are you doing?" he asks, his voice a rough whisper once we're out of earshot."Turning you off," I say simply, glancing over my shoulder. "Yo