Chapter Eighty-Four: Breach Point
750 Words
-----Axtons POV-----
The warehouse loomed in front of them—steel ribs under a bruised sky.
Axton’s boots hit the gravel like detonations. Morgan walked beside him, silent, unreadable, a gun holstered tight against her hip and a quiet storm behind her eyes.
He wasn’t speaking. Couldn’t.
Not yet.
Every breath was an effort.
Because Helen wasn’t with him.
Because she didn’t want to be.
Because she’d looked at him like she didn’t know who he was—and maybe she didn’t.
She had every right not to.
He’d stalked her. Manipulated her life. Inserted himself into the cracks of her world until she couldn’t tell where her choices ended and his began.
But f**k—he loved her.
And she was carrying his baby.
His hands clenched at the thought.
Had he even really processed that?
He was going to be a father.
A kid.
A new life made from them.
The idea curled something foreign and hot in his chest. Something good.
But then it twisted into a blade.
Because she wasn’t by his side.
She was in that house—his house—and he was locked out of it.
He’d left her there to give her space.
And now he hated every second of it.
He’d wanted to f**k her senseless when he got her back. That first moment she was safe again—sweaty, shaking, eyes wide with disbelief—he’d wanted to push her against the wall and make her feel everything.
To take back control of what was his.
Her mouth on his.
Her hands clawing at his shirt.
Her whimpers. Her moans. Her sobbing release as he claimed her again and again, until the only name she could remember was his.
He wanted to remind her that no matter what Luca did—no matter what anyone did—her pleasure belonged to him.
But he hadn’t touched her.
He’d let her walk away.
That decision haunted him now.
Morgan glanced sideways.
“You breathing?”
“Barely.”
“We’ll finish this.”
“Yeah.”
Morgan didn’t press.
Didn’t need to.
She knew what this was.
Not just a mission.
A reckoning.
Because Luca Vale was about to answer for everything.
And that was where Axton’s rage circled back like a coiled snake.
Luca had taken Helen.
Put his hands on her.
Threatened her.
And wanted her.
The moment he said it, back in that cell, Axton had almost lost control.
He wanted Helen.
He looked at her like she was a f*****g prize.
That alone was enough to sign his death certificate.
But Luca wasn’t just a threat.
He was a ghost from Axton’s past.
A brother.
And once—only once—a friend.
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They met in The Haven.
Axton was ten. Luca was eleven.
They were thrown into the same room, same drills, same black-ink schedules carved into the wall.
Most boys cried their first week.
Luca didn’t.
He fought.
He bled.
And when one of the older handlers had slammed Axton’s head against the concrete for missing a mark, it was Luca who stepped in.
Took the next hit.
Didn’t flinch.
They were bonded by pain.
By silence.
By the way they learned to survive by outsmarting everyone else.
They ran missions together. Broke protocol together. f****d up and covered for each other.
They were unstoppable.
Until Axton started questioning.
He wanted out.
Wanted a life.
Luca? Luca didn’t.
He loved the system.
Loved the control.
Loved the power it gave him.
When they finally escaped, Axton thought Luca was with them.
But he wasn’t.
He stayed behind.
And when he resurfaced, he was unrecognizable.
Not a brother.
Not even a man.
A machine built to break things.
And now he’d tried to break Helen.
That was the last mistake Luca would ever make.
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The door groaned open ahead.
Price stood waiting.
“He’s awake,” Price said.
Axton nodded once.
“He knows we’re coming?”
“No. Rourke didn’t tell him.”
“Good.”
Morgan c****d her head. “You sure you’re ready?”
Axton didn’t answer.
Because there was no such thing as ready.
Only done.
They stepped through the hall together.
Each step heavier than the last.
The cell door was ahead.
Rourke unlocked it and stepped aside.
Inside, Luca sat shackled, blood dried at his temple, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Axton stepped into the doorway.
The smile died.
And the room went still.
- Writer
