chapter four
831 Words
Chapter Four
Adrian Cross
I was right in the middle of enjoying myself—watching Lena fight every damn instinct telling her she was having a good time—when my phone vibrated.
I ignored it at first. Nothing was more interesting than watching her try not to smile.
But then it buzzed again. And again.
I pulled it out, checking the caller ID. Nathan.
My underboss.
If he was calling me in the middle of a date, it wasn’t good.
I exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over my jaw before answering. “Talk.”
Silence. Then—
“We got hit.”
The words sent ice through my veins.
Lena was watching me now, her brows furrowed slightly, sensing the shift in my mood. I forced my expression to stay neutral.
“How bad?” I asked, standing up.
Nathan’s voice was tight. “Real bad, boss. Three of our guys are dead. The shipment’s gone.”
I clenched my jaw. f**k.
Lena frowned. “Something wrong?”
I dragged a hand through my hair, my mind already racing through possibilities. Who the hell would be bold enough to hit us like this?
I let out a slow breath, schooling my expression before meeting her eyes. “I have to go.”
Her frown deepened, confusion flickering across her face. “Go? What—”
“I’ll make it up to you,” I cut in, grabbing my jacket. “Promise.”
She blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift, but I didn’t give her time to question it.
I turned on my heel and walked out, my phone already pressed back to my ear. “Where?”
Nathan rattled off an address. I slid into my car, fired up the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot, my grip tight on the wheel.
Whoever did this… they were about to regret it.
---
Fifteen minutes later, I walked into the warehouse, the air thick with tension. Nathan was already there, along with a few of our guys. The mood was grim.
I didn’t waste time. “What do we know?”
Nathan handed me a folder. “It was a coordinated hit. They knew where the shipment would be and when. We got a few bodies, but nothing useful yet.”
I flipped through the reports, my jaw tightening at the photos of our dead men. Good men.
I exhaled sharply. “Who do we suspect?”
Nathan hesitated. “Could be the Vasquez crew. Or maybe the Russians. Both have been trying to push into our territory.”
I nodded slowly, thinking. “And the shipment?”
“Gone. Like it never existed.”
My grip tightened on the folder. This wasn’t just a random hit. This was a message.
I looked at Nathan. “I want answers. Find out who did this. And when you do?”
Nathan smirked. “We make an example of them.”
I nodded, my blood running cold.
Whoever thought they could cross me—whoever thought they could steal from me and kill my men—had just made the worst mistake of their life.
And I was about to make sure they knew it.
The meeting was a mess of anger, theories, and tension thick enough to choke on. I listened, silent as a predator, while my men went back and forth about who could have pulled a hit this bold.
“We need to move fast,” Nathan said, jaw tight. “If we let this slide, we’ll look weak.”
I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled together. “We don’t move blind. We find out who did this first.”
Nathan nodded, but frustration lingered in his eyes. “We lost good men tonight.”
I didn’t need the reminder.
I could still see their faces in my head.
I exhaled slowly. “Double security at all our warehouses. No shipments move until I say so.” My voice dropped. “And start shaking the streets. Someone knows something.”
Nathan’s lips curled into a sharp grin. “We’ll get answers.”
I nodded, pushing back from the table. “Good. Now get it done.”
He left, and the warehouse emptied until it was just me, the weight of the night pressing down.
I rolled my shoulders, tension thick in my muscles. My hands curled into fists.
Whoever did this—they wanted a war.
They were about to get one.
But before that…
I pulled out my phone.
Lena.
She’d looked at me like she wanted to ask what was wrong. Like she cared.
I wasn’t used to that.
Women looked at me with lust. With greed. With fear.
Never concern.
I hesitated for half a second, then sent a text.
Something came up. I’ll make it up to you.
I didn’t expect a response.
And I sure as hell didn’t expect the small, traitorous part of me that hoped she’d would respond.
- Writer
