Chapter 4 - The Syndicate’s Secret
Victor Cross didn’t flinch, though his fingers tapped a slow, rhythmic tattoo against the arm of his leather chair. “It didn’t die, Adrian. It just went underground. Like the poison in your veins last night.” The room went dead silent. Maeve’s eyes darted to Adrian. The boss’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. He hadn’t told Cross about the seizure. That meant Cross had eyes inside the bedroom—someone close. Someone like Julian, or perhaps Vance.
“You think a little digitaloxin in my scotch is going to finish me?” Adrian asked, his voice a low, vibrating hum of pure violence. “I built this city out of the bones of men who tried the exact same trick.”
“Times change,” Cross smiled, standing up and smoothing his lapels. “The old guard wants the ledger back, Adrian. The one you locked in your bedroom safe. The one containing every name, every bribe, and every body from the 2018 purge. Hand it over today, or the next time you have a seizure, nobody will be there to kick the door down. Not even your favorite cleaner.” Cross cast a fleeting, dismissive glance at Maeve before turning toward the double doors. “Think about it. You have until midnight.”
As the heavy doors clicked shut behind Cross, Adrian collapsed back into his leather chair, exhaling a long, shuddering breath. The facade of absolute invulnerability cracked, revealing the exhausted, hunted man beneath. “You shouldn’t have come in here,” Adrian muttered, rubbing his temples. “Cross has men everywhere. If he knows you were the one who saved me—”
“Then he knows who to kill next,” Maeve finished for him, walking over to the sideboard and pouring a glass of fresh water, which she set firmly on the desk in front of him. “Drink it. And stop talking like a dying man.” Adrian looked up at the glass, then at her. A faint, humorless ghost of a smile touched his lips. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“I know you’re a man who needs better security and a cleaner housekeeper,” Maeve said, leaning against the edge of his desk. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the brass key she had taken from Julian’s jacket, setting it gently beside the water glass. *412*. Adrian’s eyes dropped to the key. The color drained entirely from his face. “Where did you get this?”
“Julian’s jacket in the laundry room,” Maeve said evenly. “He’s running packages to Union Station. Which means your inner circle isn't just compromised—it’s selling you out to Cross.” Adrian stared at the key as if it were a venomous snake. For a moment, the dangerous mafia boss was completely overshadowed by a man betrayed by the people he trusted most. He looked up at Maeve, his gray eyes searching her face with an intensity that felt like an interrogation. “Why are you doing this, Maeve? Cleaners don’t get involved in syndicate wars. They collect their wages and look the other way.”
“My brother didn’t die of epilepsy, Mr. Vale,” Maeve said quietly, the memory of that terrible night flashing behind her eyes. “The landlord locked that door because he was running a meth lab in the basement and didn’t want the cops seeing what was inside. Thomas had a seizure from the fumes, and nobody would break the lock until it was too late.” She straightened up, her voice dropping into a cold, hard register. “I spent eighteen years hating locked doors and the cowards who hide behind them. I don’t care if you’re a criminal or a king. If someone locks a door to cover up murder, I’m kicking it down.”
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Adrian slowly stood up. He didn’t look away from her. For the first time since she had broken into his room, the distance between them vanished. He reached out and picked up the key. “Union Station, locker 412,” Adrian murmured. “That’s where they’re copying the ledger.” He walked around the desk, stopping just inches from her. He was taller than her, broad-shouldered and imposing, yet his gaze was entirely steady. “If we go after them, Cross won’t just fire you, Maeve. He’ll put a bounty on your head that lasts a lifetime.”
“Then you better make sure we win,” Maeve said without blinking.
