CHAPTER 36: CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Chapter Thirty-Six

Malachi’s POV

I didn’t know how Alicia was doing, and it was eating me alive.

Three times I’d walked to her door. Three times I’d raised my hand to knock. Three times I’d stopped myself because I knew she wouldn’t answer. Or worse—she would, and I’d see that haunted look in her eyes and be unable to do anything about it.

Not yet.

Not until I had solutions instead of just questions.

I poured myself another whiskey and stared at my phone. The information Maurice had pulled from her messages sat in my encrypted files like a loaded gun. Her father’s threats. Sophie’s photos. The impossible deadline.

Five days now.

Every hour that passed was an hour closer to that bastard selling a seventeen-year-old girl to a predator. Every minute I spent planning was a minute Sophie spent terrified.

But rushing in without preparation would get people killed. Possibly Sophie. Possibly Alicia.

And I couldn’t live with that.

I called Maurice. "The employees who came to Dark City—organize something for them. Dinner. Entertainment. Whatever keeps them occupied and happy."

"Sir?" Confusion colored his tone. "Right now?"

"Tomorrow night. Make it generous. I want them distracted."

Translation: I want them away from the hotel so they don’t notice when I disappear to handle Alicia’s problem.

"Understood, sir. I’ll arrange something at the Grand Pearl restaurant."

"Good. And Maurice?"

"Yes?"

"Make sure Alicia is invited but doesn’t feel obligated to attend. Give her an out."

A pause. "You care about her."

It wasn’t a question.

"Just do it," I said, ending the call before he could push further.

Caring was a weakness. Caring made you vulnerable. Made you stupid.

I’d cared about Emily, and she’d died because I wasn’t strong enough to protect her from my own family.

But Alicia... Alicia made me want to be weak. Made me want to tear down every wall I’d built and let her see the monster underneath.

The thought should have terrified me.

Instead, it felt inevitable.

---

An hour later, I met Dante and Mavis in the hotel parking garage. Both were dressed in dark tactical gear—the kind that didn’t attract attention but allowed for quick movement if things went sideways.

"Where are we going?" Dante asked as I slid into the driver’s seat of the black SUV.

"Headquarters."

Mavis raised an eyebrow. "The Dark City base? I thought we were handling the Hayes situation tonight."

"We are. But I need resources first. And I need to brief Violet and Rose."

The twins. My most lethal assets. If anyone could extract Sophie Hayes from whatever hole her father had buried her in, it was them.

We drove through the city in silence. Dark City at night was a different beast than during the day—all neon lights and shadows, legitimate business fronting for the criminal empire that really ran things.

My empire.

I’d built it from nothing after Mario’s betrayal destroyed everything I’d had in Silver Lake City. After Emily’s death left me with nothing but rage and the will to survive.

Three years. That’s how long it took to establish myself here. To become someone even the Zhao family had to acknowledge as a threat.

And now I was using that power for something I’d never thought I’d care about again.

Saving someone.

The headquarters sat beneath a legitimate shipping company on the east side of the industrial district. To anyone watching, it was just another warehouse processing cargo.

Underground, it was something else entirely.

We parked in the private garage and took the reinforced elevator down three levels. The doors opened to a sprawling operations center—computer stations, weapons storage, training facilities, medical bay. Everything needed to run a criminal organization that spanned two cities.

My people looked up as we entered. Twenty-seven operatives currently on-site, all experts in their respective fields. Surveillance. Hacking. Wet work. Money laundering. The machinery that kept my empire running smoothly.

"Boss." A chorus of acknowledgments followed us as we walked through.

I nodded but didn’t stop. Headed straight for the strategy room where I knew the twins would be waiting.

Violet and Rose were already there when we entered. Identical in appearance—sharp features, dark hair pulled back, athletic builds—but completely different in presence.

Violet was ice. Calculating. Precise. The head of our assassination division.

Rose was fire. Unpredictable. Creative. She ran intelligence and infiltration.

Together, they were the most dangerous people in my organization.

"Malachi." Violet stood, arms crossed. Professional. "Wasn’t expecting you tonight."

Rose grinned. "Miss us already?"

"Status report," I said, taking a seat at the head of the table. "How have things been since I left?"

Violet pulled up a holographic display from the table’s interface. "Smooth. We eliminated three targets last month—all competitors trying to move into our territories. Zhao family has been quiet. Too quiet."

"Suspiciously quiet," Rose added. "They’re planning something, but we haven’t figured out what yet."

"They pulled back after our conversation at the bar," I said. "Gave them forty-eight hours to leave the city. That time’s almost up."

Violet’s expression didn’t change. "You want us to handle them if they don’t leave?"

"I want surveillance first. If they make a move, then yes. Handle them."

"With pleasure," Rose said, her smile sharp.

Dante dropped into a chair with his usual lack of grace. "So who wants to hear about the time Malachi almost died in Tokyo?"

Violet’s eyes cut to him. "I want to hear about you improving your hand-to-hand combat. Your last assessment was disappointing."

"Disappointing?" Dante clutched his chest dramatically. "I’m wounded."

"You will be if you don’t take training seriously," Violet said flatly.

Mavis laughed, pouring drinks from the bar in the corner. "She’s got a point. You’ve been getting sloppy."

"I am not sloppy. I’m... creatively efficient."

"You’re lazy," Violet corrected.

Rose leaned forward, grinning. "I think they’d make a cute couple. The ice queen and the joker."

Both Violet and Dante spoke simultaneously: "Shut up."

The room erupted in laughter. Even I felt my lips twitch slightly.

This was my family. Not by blood, but by choice. By survival. These were the people who’d stood by me when everything fell apart. Who’d helped me build something from the ashes.

Mavis raised his glass. "To dangerous missions and questionable life choices."

"Hear, hear," Rose echoed, clinking glasses with him.

They started swapping stories. The time Dante accidentally seduced a target’s wife and nearly caused an international incident. Rose’s legendary infiltration of a Russian oligarch’s compound. Violet’s perfect record of thirty-seven confirmed kills without a single witness.

I let them talk. Let them decompress. This was as much about team cohesion as it was about planning.

But I couldn’t fully engage. My mind kept drifting.

To Alicia. To the fear in her eyes. To the way she’d looked at me in that car like she wanted to believe I could help but didn’t dare to hope.

"Earth to Malachi." Rose waved a hand in front of my face. "You’ve been quiet. That’s never good."

"I’m listening."

"Bullshit." She leaned back, studying me with those sharp eyes that missed nothing. "What’s going on? And don’t say ’business.’ You’ve got that look."

"What look?"

"The one that says a woman got under your skin."

Dante grinned. "Oh, she definitely did. You should see him around her. It’s pathetic."

"There’s a woman?" Rose’s interest sharpened. "Tell me everything."

"Nothing to tell," I said.

"He’s lying," Mavis contributed helpfully. "Her name’s Alicia. She’s smart, beautiful, and completely immune to his usual intimidation tactics. He’s obsessed."

Violet raised an eyebrow. "Obsessed? That’s... unexpected."

"It’s not obsession," I said, though the denial felt hollow. "It’s—"

"Obsession," Rose finished, grinning. "Oh, this is delicious. The man who swore off relationships after Emily is finally interested in someone again."

The mention of Emily’s name hung in the air. The laughter died.

"Sorry," Rose said quietly. "That was—"

"It’s fine." I stood, needing to move. "Alicia is different."

"Different how?" Violet asked.

How did I explain it? That Alicia made me want to be something other than the monster I’d become? That she looked at me with fear and desire mixed together in a way that made me want to deserve the desire and erase the fear?

That I’d kill anyone who tried to hurt her, including myself if necessary?

"She’s Travis’s wife," I finally said.

Silence.

Violet and Rose both knew Travis. Knew what kind of man he was. Knew he’d married someone, but they’d never met her.

"Your brother’s wife," Violet repeated slowly. "That’s... complicated."

"It’s more than complicated," Mavis said. "She’s filing for divorce. Travis is in a coma. And Malachi here has been walking around like a man possessed for weeks."

Rose’s eyes widened. "Wait. The little bird in your cage—that’s her? Your brother’s wife?"

Dante nodded. "The very same."

Rose was silent for a moment. Then she laughed—sharp and disbelieving. "Well, you certainly don’t do anything halfway, do you?"

"The marriage is over," I said. "Or it will be soon. Travis treated her like property. Abused her. She’s leaving him."

"And walking straight into your arms?" Violet’s tone was careful. Neutral. "Does she know what she’d be getting into?"

"Not yet."

"Are you planning to tell her?" Rose asked. "About this?" She gestured around the room—at the weapons, the monitors showing surveillance feeds, the evidence of exactly what kind of man I was.

"Eventually."

"That’s going to go well," Dante muttered.

He was right. Alicia would run the moment she understood the full extent of my darkness. The things I’d done. The bodies I’d buried. The empire built on violence and fear.

But I’d deal with that when the time came. Right now, I had more immediate concerns.

"I need your help," I said, looking at the twins. "There’s a situation in Dark City. A girl who needs extraction. Her father is trying to sell her to a man named Chen—mid-fifties, wealthy, connected. The girl is seventeen. Her name is Sophie Hayes."

Violet’s expression hardened. "Trafficking?"

"Forced marriage, but yes. Same thing."

"When?" Rose’s playful demeanor evaporated, replaced by cold focus.

"Five days. Maybe less if the father gets impatient."

"We’ll find her," Violet said. It wasn’t a promise. It was a fact. "Send us everything you have."

I transferred the information from my phone to the room’s main system. Photos of Sophie. The father’s details. Everything I’d pulled from Alicia’s messages.

Rose studied the images. "Pretty girl. Looks terrified."

"She has reason to be."

"What about the father?" Violet asked. "What do you want done with him?"

I met her eyes. "When this is over? I want him to disappear. Permanently. And I want it to hurt."

Violet nodded. "Consider it done."

"And the buyer—this Chen?"

"Send me his information too," Rose said. "Men who buy children don’t deserve to live."

"Agreed."

We spent the next hour planning. Entry points. Extraction routes. Other plans if things went wrong. The twins worked with efficiency, turning an emotional mess into a tactical operation.

This was what I was good at. Strategy. Control. Turning chaos into order through careful planning and overwhelming force.

But even as we worked, part of my mind stayed with Alicia.

She was alone right now. Scared. Trying to solve an impossible problem by herself.

Soon, she wouldn’t have to.

Soon, I’d show her exactly what it meant to have Malachi Blackwood on her side.

And God help anyone who stood in my way.