Vera's POV

Antonio returned faster than expected, his expression grim, shoulders squared like he was bracing for a fight.

Bad sign.

I exhaled the last drag of my cigarette and flicked it aside as he stepped into my office, his eyes sharp, scanning me like he was already anticipating an argument.

He wasn't wrong.

"Well?" I leaned back against my desk, arms crossed, waiting.

Antonio didn't waste time. He tossed a folder onto the surface between us. "Got what you asked for."

I flipped it open, scanning the contents—maps, reports, surveillance photos. Antonio was thorough, meticulous. I knew that already, but still, something about his stance told me I wasn't going to like what I was about to read.

"Leo's got multiple warehouses, but these two?" He pointed to two circled locations on the map. "They're the ones that'll actually hurt him."

I narrowed my eyes, studying the details.

Warehouse One: A heavily guarded shipment hub—arms, ammunition, and supplies. A fortress.

Warehouse Two: A financial hub—where his cash is laundered before it disappears.

Antonio's voice was low, serious. "First one's got guards on every corner. Getting in will be hell, but if we take it out, we cripple his supply chain. Long-term damage."

I drummed my fingers against the desk, waiting for the catch.

"The second one?" he continued. "Less security, easier to hit, but it's where the money flows. If we burn that place down, we're not just setting him back—we're pissing him off."

I studied the map, my jaw tightening.

Two choices.

Hitting his weapons would weaken him strategically. Hitting his money would weaken him personally.

One was about power. The other was about pride.

Antonio watched me, arms crossed. "You know what I'd pick."

I looked up at him, unimpressed. "I don't pay you to have opinions."

He let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. "You pay me to keep you from getting killed. If you want my advice—"

"I don't," I cut in.

Antonio rolled his eyes but didn't argue. Smart.

I closed the folder, exhaling through my nose. My fingers tapped idly against the surface. I already knew what I was going to do.

But something about this wasn't sitting right.

"Where's Claire?" I asked suddenly.

Antonio hesitated. "Still in the other room."

Good.

I felt his hesitation before he even spoke.

"You really gonna let Claire do this?"

My shoulders tensed, but I didn't turn around.

"She wanted in."

"That doesn't mean she's ready."

My jaw clenched. "She'll be fine."

Antonio scoffed, and that's what made me turn. His face was set in a way that irritated me.

"Say what you want to say, Antonio," I said, voice cold.

He crossed his arms, meeting my eyes without flinching. "You're throwing her into this, and for what? To prove to the crew that she isn't special? To prove it to yourself?"

A muscle in my jaw twitched.

"Careful," I warned.

Antonio shook his head, exhaling sharply. "You think I don't see it? You act like it doesn't matter, but it does. You care what happens to her."

I didn't respond.

He took that as confirmation.

"You don't have to prove anything to them," he muttered. "You never did."

Silence stretched between us.

Then, quietly, I said, "Go get me the rest of the intel."

Antonio studied me for a second longer, like he was debating whether to push further. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

I let out a slow breath and ran a hand down my face, rolling my shoulders back.

He was wrong.

I didn't care. I couldn't afford to.

I stared at the map, fingers tapping against the desk, my mind weighing the options.

Which one?

I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders back. What's the right move?

For the first time in a long time, I wasn't immediately sure. My instincts told me to go for the money—hit where it hurts the most. But my strategic side told me that if I wanted to end this, I needed to hit his ability to fight back.

My fingers curled into a fist against the desk, irritated at the uncertainty.

I thought about Claire.

She had a way of seeing things differently, of poking at things I wouldn't have questioned. The last time I ignored her instincts, Gabriel almost died.

Maybe—

I shut that thought down immediately.

No.

I didn't ask for opinions. I didn't need them.

Still...

My eyes flicked toward the door before I could stop myself.

I wasn't going to ask her, but I could at least make sure she wasn't off getting herself into trouble. That was all.

I pushed off the desk, heading toward the door with no real plan, only the quiet hum of something I refused to name urging me forward.

Claire's POV

The knock was sharp, abrupt.

I glanced at the clock. Past midnight.

I was sitting in bed, legs tucked under me, a book open in my lap. I frowned slightly, closing it with one hand.

The door opened before I could even say anything.

My brows lifted in surprise, but my expression shifted the second I saw who it was.

Vera.

She stepped inside like she belonged there, like she wasn't intruding on anything, like she hadn't just walked into my room uninvited.

I grinned, ignoring the way my heart picked up. "Hey."

Vera didn't answer immediately. She just stood there, arms crossed, looking at me in that unreadable way she always did when she wasn't sure why she was here.

I patted the spot beside me on the bed, signaling for her to sit.

She hesitated for half a second—just half a second—before walking over and sinking down onto the edge of the mattress.

"What are you doing?" she asked, voice casual, like she hadn't just walked in unannounced in the middle of the night.

I lifted my book, wiggling it slightly. "Reading."

Vera scoffed, shaking her head. "Of course you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I smirked, shifting slightly to face her.

She didn't answer. Not right away.

Instead, she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her fingers idly toying with the fabric of her sleeve.

I narrowed my eyes slightly.

"What's wrong?"

Vera exhaled slowly, tilting her head. "Why do you think anything's wrong?"

I snorted. "Because you're sitting on my bed at midnight instead of doing whatever brooding crime bosses do in their free time."

Vera smirked. "You think I brood?"

"Brood. Scheme. Glare at people dramatically." I waved a hand. "Take your pick."

She huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking her head. "You talk too much."

I grinned. "And yet, you're still here."

Vera rolled her eyes, but there was something lighter in the way she did it.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

I waited, watching the way she was rolling something over in her head, the way her fingers tapped once against her knee.

Then, finally, she sighed, tilting her head back slightly.

"I need to make a call on which warehouses to hit."

My grin faded slightly. "And you don't know which one?"

Vera gave me a sharp look, like she didn't appreciate the implication.

"I know both options have risks," she said instead. "I just don't like picking the lesser of two evils."

I studied her.

Vera never hesitated. Not like this.

Slowly, I closed my book, setting it aside. "What are the options?"

She looked at me, and for a second, I thought she might dismiss the question.

Then, after a beat, she started explaining.

Vera's POV

I stared at the map, my fingers gripping the edge of the table as I ran through the options again. No matter how I turned it, no matter how many scenarios I played in my head, it all led to the same conclusion.

I didn't have enough men. I didn't have enough time.

And I didn't have anyone I could trust.

Claire was watching me. I could feel it, the weight of her gaze burning into me, waiting.

"Okay," she finally muttered. "I see why this is a dilemma."

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "No shit?"

"We don't have enough men for two hits?" she asked, her voice careful, like she was working through the problem in her own head.

"We could." I leaned forward, pointing at the map. "But look at the locations. If I split them, Leo will hear of the first hit before I even make it halfway to the second one. If I'm not out by then, it turns into a war."

"And you don't have anyone else you trust to lead the second hit?" she pressed.

"No." I clenched my jaw. "Most of my men are guarding my warehouses, running deals. With Gabriel out of the picture, my back is exposed."

Claire shook her head, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. "Your back isn't exposed. I have your back."

I didn't let myself react to that. The words settled somewhere deep, somewhere I wasn't ready to acknowledge. I forced them down and cleared my throat. "So what do you think?"

That damn smirk.

I knew that look.

Whatever she was about to say, I was going to hate it.

"That's where we bring in the big old sister," she said casually.

I almost choked. "Excuse me?"

Claire tilted her head, looking entirely too amused. "Alacrán. You know—Valeria? Your sister? Dark, broody, with even less humor than you? Ring any bells?"

I stared at her.

"You want me to ask Valeria for help?" My voice was flat.

She shrugged. "Well, no. I will ask Valeria for help. Because I know you're too proud to do that."

I pushed away from the table. "No way in hell." I shook my head, standing up. "It was a stupid idea to even come to you—"

Claire grabbed my arm before I could move.

"Listen to me. Dominic is out. We need Leo weakened. And with Dominic free, this is Valeria's war too."

"No, Claire. No." My voice sharpened. "I'm not asking Valeria for anything. You really think she's going to leave her perfect little life to come to my aid?"

Claire didn't flinch. "Have you ever asked her for help, and she refused?"

The words hit me like a bullet.

I said nothing.

Claire took a step closer. "Vera, you think she doesn't want you in her life, that she doesn't care about you—but you decided that. Not her."

I scoffed, my fists clenching. "So I'm the bad guy now? She never looked for me."

Claire's expression turned sharp. "Because you didn't let her. You showed up, threatened her girlfriend, made her best friend all tingly on the inside, and then you left."

I felt my jaw twitch.

"And then," she continued, "you forced her to choose. Between coming back to the life you wanted or staying in the life she built for herself."

"Claire," I warned.

She didn't stop.

"No, shut up. That's what you did. And it's time you admit it."

I snapped.

My hand wrapped around her throat before I could stop myself, slamming her back against the table.

"Don't tell me to shut up!" I roared.

Claire's hands immediately tapped at my wrist, her breathing stuttering.

My grip was too tight.

Claire swallowed hard, but she still held my gaze. "I won't kiss your ass, Vera. You know what I said is true. Valeria won't choose to leave the life she built for herself." She exhaled sharply, voice quieter now. "But if her sister is in danger, she will show up."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"No?"

"No!" I snapped.

Claire didn't flinch. Instead, she took out her phone and started tapping the screen.

I stilled.

"What are you doing?" My voice was low, sharp.

She lifted the phone slightly, letting me see the name lighting up the screen.

Valeria.

"Hang up." My voice dropped into something dangerous. "Claire, hang up. That's dangerous."

She didn't. The line rang. I felt something tighten in my chest.

And then—

"Claire?" Valeria's voice came through the speaker, groggy with sleep.

I froze.

Claire grinned like the devil himself. "Heyyyy. Missed me?"

My entire body went rigid.

Another voice came from the background, softer, questioning. "Is that Claire?"

Valeria's voice immediately sharpened. "Claire, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

I clenched my jaw so hard it ached. Of course she was worried. Of course Claire was part of her perfect little familia.

Claire's gaze locked on mine. "Did you see the news?"

Silence.

Then—"Dominic?" Valeria exhaled.

"Yes," Claire said, her expression unreadable.

"I don't understand," Valeria muttered. "Claire, you're scaring me."

My stomach twisted.

"I'm okay," Claire reassured her. "We're okay. But—" her eyes burned into mine, daring me to stop her—"Vera needs your help."

My blood boiled.

I lunged for the phone, trying to rip it from Claire's hands. "I need no one's help! I swear to God, Claire, I'm going to—"

Valeria's voice cut through the line, firm, resolute.

"I'll be right there."

I froze.

Every single muscle in my body locked. Claire grinned, smug as hell, and ended the call. Silence pounded in my ears.

I didn't move. I didn't breathe. Claire leaned back slightly, crossing her arms, watching me like she had won.

Because she had. I was going to kill her.

Claire's POV

I knew this was dangerous. I knew I was risking Valeria by making that call, knew I was putting her in a war she might not have wanted to fight. But with Dominic out, it wasn't just Vera's war anymore. It wasn't just about revenge. It was about survival. And I knew Valeria was thinking it too.

But Vera wasn't thinking about that.

Vera was wild with anger, pacing, hands clenched into fists, breathing too sharp, too shallow. Her entire body was coiled like she was barely keeping herself from launching at me and tearing me apart.

Her jaw was tight, her nostrils flaring, her eyes burning with something close to rage. "You have no idea what you just did."

I swallowed, forcing myself to hold my ground. "I did what needed to be done."

Vera laughed. A sharp, bitter sound that sent a chill down my spine. She turned away, dragging her hands through her hair, exhaling through her nose like she was trying to keep herself from completely snapping.

Then she spun back toward me, her movements too quick, too sharp.

"You don't get to decide what needs to be done, Claire," she hissed, voice dangerously low. "You don't get to make that call."

I squared my shoulders, ignoring the way my heartbeat pounded in my ears. "You weren't going to do it."

Her eyes darkened. "I didn't want to do it."

I inhaled, carefully, measured, grounding myself before I lost this. "You're not alone, Vera."

Vera stilled.

For a split second, I swore I saw something flicker across her face—something raw, something real. But then it was gone, buried beneath years of walls, of rage, of something colder than steel.

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "I don't trust anyone."

I took a slow step closer. "That's not true."

Vera's eyes flicked to mine, sharp, like she was daring me to prove her wrong.

"If you didn't trust me," I murmured, voice softer now, deliberate, "I wouldn't be here."

Something in her snapped.

She lunged forward so fast I barely had time to react.

Her hands grabbed my collar, yanking me toward her so our faces were inches apart.

Her breathing was uneven, her pupils blown wide, her rage palpable.

"You don't know shit," she hissed.

I swallowed hard, my hands coming up to her wrists, but I didn't fight her grip.

Her fingers trembled against my shirt, but she held on like letting go would mean something worse.

I exhaled, slow, careful. "Then prove me wrong."

Her grip tightened.

For a second, I thought she might actually hit me. That she might actually throw me against the nearest wall and make me regret every single word I just said.

But she didn't.

Instead, her jaw clenched, her nostrils flared, her fingers twitched—and then, with a sharp exhale, she let go.

She stepped back, shoving a hand through her hair, turning away from me like she needed a second to breathe.

Silence stretched between us.

Vera didn't look at me, but I saw the way her shoulders heaved. The way her hands curled and uncurled at her sides, like she was fighting some invisible battle inside her own head.

I watched her for a second.

Then, carefully, quietly, I said, "You don't have to keep fighting alone, Vera."

She didn't move. Didn't say anything. But I knew she heard me.

I stepped forward carefully, my heart pounding as I watched the tension in Vera's shoulders, the way her fists clenched at her sides. She was fighting something—herself, her anger, her instincts.

I didn't think.

I just moved.

Slowly, I slid my arms around her waist from behind, resting my cheek lightly against her back. She tensed immediately, her whole body going rigid beneath my touch.

For a second, I thought she'd push me away.

She didn't.

I exhaled softly, tightening my hold just a little, letting her feel that I was here.

"I won't steal your control away, baby," I whispered, my voice steady, deliberate. "You will always have full control with me."

Vera shuddered.

I felt it. The barely-there tremor in her body, the sharp inhale, the hesitation.

"You can make the rules," I continued, my voice softer now, my hands splayed against her stomach, feeling the slow, uneven rhythm of her breathing. "In front of everyone, you can be the big bad wolf. But with me..."

I swallowed, my lips grazing her shoulder.

"With me, you can always find safety in my arms."

A sharp exhale. She didn't speak. Didn't pull away. For the first time since I met her, Vera let herself be held.