Chapter 10 When the Wolves Close in

The morning after Mara's confession was bitter and silent. The rain had finally stopped, but it left behind a heavy, metallic scent in the air, as if the storm had stripped the city bare.

Dominic sat at the long table, staring at the flash drive Isla had left beside his coffee. It contained every lie, every secret Mara had passed along to Kane-dates, names, plans. All of it.

And now, it was all exposed.

"She wasn't working alone," Isla said, stepping into the kitchen. Her eyes were rimmed with exhaustion, but her voice held firm. "We're still missing pieces."

Dominic's jaw tensed. "Then we dig until we find the rest."

Isla slid into the chair across from him. "We have to be smarter. Kane is ahead of us at every turn. He's not reacting-he's predicting."

He looked up. "And we're the ones playing catch-up."

She nodded.

Mara was locked in the basement, guarded by Luca and another man from Dominic's crew. She hadn't said a word since her confession. Not a request, not a plea. Just silence.

And that terrified Isla more than any screaming would have.

⸻

That afternoon, they met with Niko-an ex-intelligence officer turned ghost broker-inside an abandoned cathedral on the city's edge. Sunlight slashed through broken stained glass, bathing the ruined pews in bleeding color.

Niko's sharp eyes swept over them as they entered. "You're late."

Dominic didn't flinch. "You're expensive."

"I'm precise," Niko replied, tossing a manila envelope onto a pew. "Inside-everything I have on Lorenzo. His habits, his guards, even his underground vaults. But it comes at a cost."

"We're not short on cash," Isla said.

"No," Niko said with a cold smile. "But you're short on time. Kane's moving shipments through Eastpoint next week. Drugs, weapons, and girls. A full trade. If you want to hit him where it hurts, that's where you do it."

Isla's pulse quickened. "How many?"

"Too many," Niko said grimly. "But the worst part? He's got buyers flying in from six countries. This isn't a side hustle anymore. This is expansion."

Dominic's eyes burned. "Then we burn it down."

⸻

They returned to the safe house and laid out the plans. The warehouse Kane was using for the trade sat in Eastpoint's industrial grid-a no-man's land where the police rarely ventured. It was surrounded by chain-link fences, cameras, and at least a dozen armed guards.

They needed intel. And fast.

"We can't do this alone," Isla said, scanning the satellite images. "We need someone inside."

Dominic turned slowly to her. "Mara."

Luca paled. "You can't trust her."

"We can't afford not to," Isla said. "She's the only one Kane might still believe."

Dominic hesitated. Then nodded. "Get her ready. She goes in tonight."

⸻

Mara was silent as Isla entered the basement. Her eyes were hollow, her cheeks sunken. A ghost of the fierce woman they'd once known.

"You're going back in," Isla said simply.

Mara looked up slowly. "You're sending me to die."

"No," Isla said. "We're giving you a chance to redeem yourself."

"I don't want redemption," Mara whispered. "I want revenge."

"Then help us bring him down. From the inside."

⸻

That night, dressed in a crimson coat and stilettos, Mara walked into Kane's warehouse with a hidden mic strapped beneath her bra. Isla listened through the earpiece, heart racing as Mara sweet-talked her way past the guards.

She made it inside. The cameras flickered. Her voice came through in low static.

"There's at least twenty inside. Shipment's marked with black tape. Two floors, buyers in the upstairs offices."

"Any sign of the girls?" Isla asked.

A pause.

"Yes. Basement. Cages. Young. Frightened."

Isla's stomach churned.

Dominic's voice cut in. "Pull her out."

"No," Mara said suddenly. "I'm not done."

Isla's breath caught. "Mara-"

"I'm getting footage. If this is the last thing I do, you make sure it counts."

The mic crackled. Then silence.

⸻

They waited fifteen agonizing minutes before Mara's voice returned.

"I'm out. Sending feed to your line now."

Isla exhaled sharply. "Good girl."

Then a scream.

Gunfire.

Static.

"Mara-!"

Silence.

Dominic stood, fury on his face. "Gear up. Now."

⸻

They stormed the warehouse with calculated rage. Isla moved like a ghost through the shadows, gun in hand, heart thundering. Dominic was ahead of her, silent death incarnate.

Inside, chaos reigned. The buyers had scattered. Guards fought desperately to hold their ground.

They found Mara slumped beside the back wall, blood blooming on her stomach. She looked up and smiled faintly.

"Got it all," she whispered. "Check your phone."

Dominic dropped to his knees, pressing his hands to the wound.

"Stay with us," Isla pleaded.

Mara looked at her. "Tell my sister... I did something right."

Her eyes closed.

⸻

They cleared the warehouse.

Twenty-two girls rescued.

Lorenzo gone.

And a body count that would haunt Isla's dreams.

⸻

Back at the safe house, Isla sat in silence as the footage uploaded. Girls locked in cages. Kane shaking hands with buyers. Lorenzo overseeing everything.

She stared at the screen, bile rising in her throat.

This wasn't just a crime. It was an empire built on agony.

Dominic entered, silent. He handed her a glass of whiskey and sat beside her.

"She died believing she made it right," he said softly.

"She did," Isla whispered. "But it won't end here."

"No," Dominic said, voice low. "It won't."

⸻

They watched the footage until the screen went dark.

Outside, the city held its breath.

And in the shadows, the wolves began to circle.

The safe house was a flurry of movement after the rescue. Isla's shoulder had been bandaged-shallow but painful, a graze rather than a deep wound. Her mother lay in the upstairs bedroom, sedated and finally safe. For now.

But Kane was still out there.

And now, he was angry.

Dominic sat beside Isla in the command room, both watching the digital map of the city displayed on the wall-a patchwork of locations, red dots, and flickering alerts. They had exposed the empire, but Kane hadn't fallen. Not yet.

"We've cut off his income, his product, and most of his distribution lines," Kye reported, tapping through encrypted feeds. "But he's got too many enemies to go down quietly."

"And too many allies with nothing left to lose," Luca added grimly.

Isla leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "He's cornered. That makes him dangerous."

Dominic nodded. "Then we finish this before he finds another way to rise."

⸻

Two nights later, they struck again.

Using intel from Niko and new surveillance, they located a shipping yard Kane was using to smuggle out the last of his human cargo-girls barely old enough to speak, wrapped in chains and terror.

Dominic's team moved like ghosts-silent, swift, merciless.

Isla moved with them, despite the pain in her shoulder. She couldn't watch from a distance anymore. Not while children were being loaded into freight containers like cattle.

Inside the largest warehouse, they found the ringleader of the operation-a man named Vargas, with ties to Kane and Lorenzo both. He begged for his life as Isla stood over him.

"You have no idea who I work for," he spat. "I'm protected."

"No," she said coldly. "You're finished."

She didn't pull the trigger.

Dominic did.

⸻

They rescued twenty-eight girls that night.

The news broke again. The headlines were worse this time-clearer, louder. Faces of victims. Footage from body cams. Government connections laid bare.

And this time, the authorities couldn't hide it.

International agencies announced joint investigations. Protests erupted. The city's elite were dragged into the light.

Kane's world was crumbling.

⸻

But with every victory came loss.

They lost Kye the next morning. A car bomb under his apartment, detonated by remote. He never saw it coming.

Isla screamed when she got the call. Dominic stood frozen, jaw tight, rage bubbling beneath his skin.

It was personal now. Beyond justice. Beyond vengeance.

It was war.

⸻

That night, Isla went to the rooftop alone. Rain fell in thin sheets, blurring the skyline. She held Kye's cracked glasses in one hand, the last thing pulled from the wreckage.

She didn't hear Dominic approach until he was beside her.

"He was only twenty-three," she said, voice breaking.

"He was family," Dominic replied softly. "And we will honor him the only way we know how."

She turned to him. "By ending it."

"By burning it to the ground," he said.

⸻

Dominic's phone buzzed then.

It was Niko.

"They're meeting," he said. "Kane and Lorenzo. Tonight. One final push before they run."

"Where?"

"Dock 19. Midnight. They'll have protection, but not a full guard. They're desperate now."

Dominic looked at Isla. "This is it."

She nodded. "Then we go in hard."

⸻

The plan was fast, brutal, and final.

Isla, Dominic, and Luca led a four-man team. No more games, no more leaks. In and out. Kill or capture. End the war.

Dock 19 was shrouded in fog, the kind that swallowed sound and light. Cargo containers formed a maze of metal walls, every turn a potential ambush.

They split into pairs, weapons drawn, comms silent.

The first shots rang out like thunder.

Gunfire erupted. Isla ducked behind a steel drum, heart racing, breath ragged. She took down two guards with clean shots to the chest, the years of training and trauma fusing into perfect precision.

Luca radioed: "Visual on Lorenzo. Far end, headed toward the water."

Dominic's voice: "Kane's with him. We're close."

Isla pushed forward, blood pounding in her ears.

And then she saw them.

Kane and Lorenzo, standing at the dock's edge, surrounded by crates and guards. Kane had a gun pressed to a girl's head-a child no older than twelve.

"Come closer," he called out, "and she dies."

Dominic stepped forward.

"Let her go, and I'll give you what you want."

Kane laughed. "You think I want money? Power? I already had that. Now? Now I want to watch you break."

Isla moved from the shadows like a whisper. "Then I'm sorry to disappoint you."

She aimed.

One shot.

The girl dropped to the ground, safe-just as Kane turned toward the sound.

Dominic fired. Three shots-chest, throat, head.

Kane fell.

Lorenzo ran.

Luca tackled him before he could reach the boat. Screaming. Bleeding.

They didn't kill him.

Not yet.

He would face trial. Public, brutal, humiliating.

Isla insisted on that.

⸻

Back at the safe house, Isla stood in front of the mirror, wiping blood from her cheek.

It was over.

Kane was dead. Lorenzo captured. The children safe. The ring dismantled. The empire of pain reduced to rubble.

Dominic entered quietly behind her.

"You did it," he said.

She turned, tears streaking her cheeks. "We did."

He stepped forward, pulling her into his arms.

Not in desperation.

But in peace.

For the first time.

⸻

And above them, the city breathed.

Broken.

Healing.

Free.