Married To The Enemy

Are You Ready?

“The lingering vibration of Moreau’s fury still thrummed in my chest. Even with his hands cuffed and his face battered, the vengeful glint in his eyes felt more real than anything else. This isn’t over. The words circled my mind like a dark mantra. Marcus squeezed my hand as if sensing my unease.

Father walked toward us, his jacket slightly torn at the shoulder, but his expression remained calm, even carrying a hint of satisfaction. "Good work, both of you," he said, looking at us in turn. "The primary crisis is contained. But he’s right, this isn’t truly over."

"What do you mean, Father?" I asked, my voice a bit raspy.

"Moreau isn’t a solo player, Ava," Father explained, gesturing toward the elevator now carrying Moreau down. "He has reach everywhere. His old network runs deeper than we imagined."

Marcus nodded. "Miller already turned something up. Those documents seized from Moreau earlier... there are new names."

"Who?" I pressed.

"The Valenti family," Father said, and the air around me turned cold. Valenti. The name was more than just a surname, it was a symbol of hidden cruelty. They controlled the docks, a legendary smuggling syndicate that rarely meddled in corporate politics. Why now?

"Valenti?" I looked at Marcus, seeking confirmation. He gave a stiff nod. "This is getting bigger, Father. I thought this was just an internal power struggle."

"That’s exactly what Moreau wanted us to think," Father said. "He used Monroe and Reed as bait. He kept us busy with the show here while he planted seeds of destruction elsewhere."

"Where?" Marcus asked, his tone sharp.

Father sighed. "We’re going to the bunker. We need to hold a meeting. Now."

The trip to the bunker felt more ominous than the ones before. I was still thinking about Caleb, his pale face, his terror. Was I too hard on him? Marcus held my hand tightly, offering wordless strength. He knew my mind was a storm.

Once we reached the dim underground briefing room, Father immediately took his seat at the head of the table. Miller, the detective, was already waiting with a handful of documents. The air was thick with the scent of bitter coffee and tension.

"Miller," Father signaled. "Report what you found."

Miller nodded, looking at each of us. "We found communications between Moreau and someone named Alessandro Valenti. Not just any Valenti, but the head of the family’s youngest nephew. He’s ambitious, and Moreau apparently promised him a fast track to power."

"What kind of fast track?" Marcus interrupted.

"Control over the New York black market," Miller replied. "Moreau promised to eliminate their 'obstacles,' meaning us, and give Valenti access to the Hayes Corporation logistics network we’ve always kept strictly legal."

My eyes widened. This was more than a corporate move. This was a path to full scale gang war.

"Meaning they want to use our facilities as an illegal smuggling route?" I asked.

"Exactly," Miller said. "By removing Don Robert and the Thorne family, they could seize the city without significant resistance. Moreau is the brain, Valenti is the muscle."

Father tapped the table with his fingers. "So, the true goal wasn’t just Hayes Corporation. It was total power in New York. A dual effort. One to distract us, the other to prepare for an invasion."

"What about Caleb?" I asked suddenly. The question just slipped out.

Father looked at me. "He... will be watched. We have people ensuring he’s safe and that he can’t compromise us. He’s traumatized, Ava. It’s better he stays away from all this."

At least he was safe. A small weight lifted from my chest.

"And Scarlet?" Marcus asked.

"She’s been interrogated. She confessed. She gave us every detail we need," Miller answered. "Most importantly, the location of the next meeting between Valenti and Moreau. Tonight."

Tonight? A chill crept up my spine.

"Where?" I asked, my voice hardening.

"An old warehouse on the Brooklyn side of the pier," Miller said. "Valenti is using it as a temporary headquarters. He and a few of his trusted men are meeting to discuss the post takeover plans."

"They don’t know Moreau has been caught?" Marcus asked.

"Not yet," Miller said. "We managed to block all outgoing communications from the Hayes building."

Father rose from his chair, his eyes burning. "This is our chance. We hit them while they’re vulnerable. Before Valenti realizes just how bad Moreau’s situation is."

"And the plan?" I asked, my muscles tensing.

"Marcus, get your team ready. This time, we don’t hold back. We take Alessandro Valenti and dismantle his smuggling network before he can even breathe," Father said. "Ava..."

He looked at me with the same gaze he had when he asked me to be bait before. I knew what he was going to say.

"I’m coming," I said before he could finish.

Father gave a faint smile. "Good. You and Marcus will lead the core team. This will be a swift and brutal operation."

Marcus gripped my hand tighter, his gaze sharp and calculating. "The warehouse at the pier, tonight. There will be a lot of Valenti’s people there."

"That’s exactly what we want," Father said, a smirk playing on his lips. "It’s time to send a clear message to anyone daring to cross us. Hayes and Thorne will not fall so easily."

We left the bunker, heading out into the deepening night. The cold Queens air was biting, but I didn't care. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, stronger than ever before. Open war. Marcus’s old words echoed back to me, and now I knew that was exactly what was coming. This wasn't just a corporate fight anymore. This was a fight for the entire city.

We arrived at the apartment, a heavy tension cloaking the room. Marcus went straight to the safe, pulling out two bulletproof vests and handguns. He handed them to me. Their weight felt substantial in my hands, cold and lethal. I strapped mine on, feeling the steel against my chest.

"Are you ready?" Marcus asked, his voice low.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. The girl who used to be afraid of her world was gone. In her place was a shadow that was tougher, darker. My eyes met his.

"Beyond ready," I answered with certainty.

He nodded, then stepped closer, framing my face in his hands. "Whatever happens tonight, Ava. Stay with me. Never wander off."

"I won't," I whispered, feeling the warmth of his hands on my cheeks. The promise was made, binding us even tighter.

Eleven o'clock at night. We were inside a black van moving silently toward Brooklyn. Behind us, other vans followed, filled with Father’s men and Thorne agents. The atmosphere inside was suffocatingly tense. I checked my pistol, feeling the familiar grip.

Marcus sat beside me, his eyes scanning a digital map on his tablet. Red dots blinked around the pier area. "Valenti has about twenty men inside. Probably more outside."

"What’s our team size?" I asked.

"Thirty men, fully armed. Ambush team, cover team, and the core team," he replied. "We enter from the west side, through the back door."

I swallowed hard. This was going to be real bloodshed. No more boardroom brawls. I could almost smell the gunpowder before it even happened. Don't be afraid, Ava. Never be afraid.

The van slowed, stopping behind a row of large shipping containers. We stepped out, the darkness of the night immediately swallowing me. The salty air from the sea, mixed with the smell of rust and oil, hit my nose. Marcus looked at me, giving the final signal.

"Remember the plan," he whispered. "No one gets away."

I nodded. We moved quickly, staying low behind the stacks of containers. Lights from distant ships reflected our silhouettes. Faintly, from a distance, I heard chatter and laughter. They had no idea what was about to hit them.

We reached the massive steel door at the back of the warehouse. Marcus signaled the ambush team. Two men moved forward, planting small explosives on the hinges. Three... two... one...

A small blast tore through the silence of the night. The steel door groaned, then forced open. Surprised shouts erupted from inside.

"Now!" Marcus yelled.

I charged in with him, pistol raised. The dim light of the warehouse was thick with dust and shadows. A long table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by men in suits. One of them, with slicked back hair and a fierce face, rose from his chair. Alessandro Valenti.

His eyes widened when he saw us. "Ambush!" he screamed.

And then, chaos broke loose. The first shot rang out, slicing through the air. I felt the whistle of a bullet near my ear. It had begun.”