Chapter One Hundred And Twenty Four

Chapter 124

The warehouse district was silent, but it wasn't the stillness of peace—it was the kind of quiet that pressed against the skin, coiling like a spring ready to snap. Jemima crouched low behind a stack of rusted crates, her green eyes scanning the shadows. Her grip on the gun was firm, her breathing controlled.  

Dimitri knelt beside her, his movements deliberate and soundless. "This place is too quiet," he muttered, his voice barely audible.  

"Too quiet means trouble," Jemima replied, her gaze flicking to Marcus, who signaled from across the room. Jay was beside him, his expression hard and focused, his movements as fluid as a predator's.  

The team had split into two groups, moving methodically through the warehouse. Ava and Vanessa coordinated from the estate, their voices crackling faintly over the earpieces.  

"We've got movement on the north side," Ava's voice came through. "Three men heading your way."  

Jemima tapped her earpiece twice in acknowledgment. She gestured to Dimitri, who nodded and moved toward the shadowed corner, his gun drawn.  

The faint scuff of boots against concrete reached her ears, and she stilled, her body taut with anticipation. A shadow passed over the crates, and Jemima rose silently, her weapon aimed.  

"Don't move," she hissed, stepping into the open.  

The man froze, his hands slowly raising. Behind him, two others emerged, their faces hard and unyielding. One of them reached for his weapon, but Dimitri stepped out of the shadows, his gun aimed directly at the man's head.  

"Try it," Dimitri said coldly.  

The tension in the room was suffocating, every breath a struggle.  

"Who sent you?" Jemima demanded, her voice cutting through the silence.  

The frontman sneered. "You think we're going to tell you anything?"  

Jemima didn't flinch. She stepped closer, her gun steady. "I think you will. Or I'll make sure you regret it."  

The man hesitated, his confidence wavering under her unwavering gaze.  

"Jem," Jay's voice came through the earpiece. "We've got company outside. Ten, maybe fifteen men. They're moving fast."  

Jemima's jaw tightened. She glanced at Dimitri, who gave her a sharp nod.  

"Marcus, hold the entrance," she said into the earpiece. "Jay, cover the perimeter. Dimitri and I will handle things in here."  

Without waiting for a response, she turned her attention back to the men in front of her. "You have one last chance. Who sent you?"  

The man's lips curled into a defiant smirk. "Mancini."  

Jemima didn't wait. Her gun came up, and the shot echoed through the warehouse. The man dropped, clutching his leg as he screamed in pain.  

"Next one goes through your head," she said coldly, her eyes locked on the others. "Start talking."  

One of the men glanced nervously at his fallen comrade, his resolve crumbling. "He's setting a trap," he said quickly. "He knew you'd come here. This whole place is wired."  

Jemima's heart skipped a beat. "Wired? With what?"  

"Explosives," the man admitted, his voice trembling. "They're set to go off if you get too close to his main stash."  

Jemima cursed under her breath. "Where's the trigger?"  

The man shook his head. "I don't know. He didn't tell us."  

"Convenient," Dimitri muttered.  

"Leave him," Jemima said, stepping back. "We need to move. Now."  

As they exited the warehouse, the distant sound of gunfire reached them. Jemima's pulse quickened.  

"Marcus, report," she said into the earpiece.  

"Engaged with hostiles," Marcus replied, his voice strained. "They're heavily armed."  

"We're on our way," Jemima said, picking up the pace.  

The scene outside was chaos. Marcus was crouched behind an overturned truck, firing at a group of men advancing from the north. Jay was further back, his movements precise as he took down enemies with calculated efficiency.  

Jemima and Dimitri joined the fray, their combined firepower turning the tide. But the enemy wasn't retreating—they were stalling.  

"Something's not right," Dimitri said, reloading his weapon.  

Jemima's mind raced. The explosives in the warehouse, the relentless attack outside—it was all too coordinated.  

"They're buying time," she realized aloud.  

"For what?" Jay asked, moving to her side.  

A deafening explosion answered his question.  

The warehouse erupted in a fireball, the shockwave knocking them to the ground. Jemima's ears rang as she struggled to her feet, her vision blurred.  

"Everyone okay?" she called out, her voice hoarse.  

"I'm good," Marcus replied, helping Jay up.  

Dimitri nodded, brushing debris off his jacket. "That was close."  

Jemima turned to see the smoldering remains of the warehouse. Her stomach churned. Mancini wasn't just playing games—he was sending a message.  

"This isn't over," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "We regroup at the estate. Now."  

The house buzzed with tense energy. Jemima stood at the head of the table, scanning the faces of her team as they gathered after the chaos at the warehouse. Ava paced by the screens, her arms crossed tightly, while Marcus leaned against the far wall, his jaw clenched. Dimitri sat stiffly in his chair, his sharp gaze fixed on Vanessa, who stood by the door with an unreadable expression. Jay remained near Jemima, his presence steady but radiating a quiet tension.  

The silence hung thick until Jemima broke it.  

"We underestimated Mancini," she said, her voice sharp. "That was a message, and if we don't regroup and strategize, we'll lose everything."  

"Strategize?" Ava scoffed, stopping mid-pace. "What strategy, Jem? We're just stumbling from one disaster to the next! And why? Because someone didn't think this through." Her gaze shot to Marcus.  

Marcus straightened, his brows knitting together. "Don't start, Ava."  

"No, I will start!" Ava snapped, her voice rising. "You were supposed to secure the north side, Marcus. Where the hell were you when the explosives broke out?"

"I was busy keeping us alive!" Marcus fired back, his tone laced with frustration. "You think this is all on me? Maybe if you were better at tracking their movements—"  

"Oh, don't you dare pin this on me," Ava interrupted, her face flushed. "I was doing my job, unlike you."  

"Enough!" Jemima's voice cut through the argument like a blade. "This isn't the time for finger-pointing."  

"No, it's not," Dimitri said, his voice cold as his gaze shifted to Vanessa. "But it is the time to question why we're suddenly taking advice from her."  

“I agree! Vanessa was the one who caused Jon to have an edge over you, remember? You almost got killed. She sold you out!” Jay’s voice broke out, his voice tense with anger as he agreed with Dimitri. 

Vanessa flinched but quickly masked it, lifting her chin. "I'm here to help. Whether you like it or not, Dimitri."  

Dimitri pushed back from the table, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He stood, towering over Vanessa as he advanced toward her. "Help?" he spat, his voice low and venomous. "Who the hell do you think you are to waltz back here like you didn't betray us? Betray me?"  

Vanessa's breath hitched, but she held her ground.  

"You couldn't even tell me what was wrong," Dimitri continued, his voice breaking with the weight of old wounds. "And you call that love? You left me to pick up the pieces, Vanessa. So, forgive me if I don't trust you now."  

Vanessa's composure cracked, her voice trembling as she retorted, "You think it was easy for me? You don't know what I was going through, Dimitri. You never even tried to understand! You’ve always been so judgmental! You never would have understood!”

"I would've understood if you talked to me," Dimitri shot back. "But you didn't. You did what you did and just left without a care in the world."  

"Because I had no choice!" Vanessa's voice broke, and for a moment, the room fell silent.  

Dimitri stared at her, his expression a storm of anger and pain. "You always had a choice," he said quietly.  

The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken emotions, until Jay spoke up, his voice tight. "Is this what we're doing now? Tearing each other apart while Mancini gains ground?"  

Jemima glanced at him, her expression hardening. "We need to deal with this, Jay. If we don't, it'll destroy us."  

"Destroy us?" Jay echoed, his tone sharp. "You think this team is falling apart because of them?" He gestured to the others. "No, Jem. It's because of you."  

Jemima froze, her eyes narrowing. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I wasn’t the one who let people die at our ‘wedding!’"  She air-quoted the word wedding which caused Jay’s eyes to darken. 

"You sound like I have a time capsule and knew what Mancini was up to. Get over it! It also means you're pushing everyone too hard," Jay said, his voice rising. "You don't listen, you don't trust anyone else's judgment, and you act like you're the only one who can fix this."  

"It's not an act. I am the only one who can fix this!" Jemima snapped. "Do you think I want this responsibility? I'm doing what I have to so we don't all end up dead."  

"And in the process, you're pushing everyone away," Jay said, his voice softening but no less firm. "Including me."  

The words hit Jemima like a punch to the gut. For a moment, she couldn't speak, the weight of his accusation settling over her.  

"Jay..." she began, but he shook his head.  

"Don't," he said quietly. "You've made it clear where I stand."  

The room fell into a suffocating silence, the fractures between them widening with every passing second.  

And that's when the first explosion rocked the estate.  

The lights flickered, and the ground shook violently as the sound of shattering glass and crumbling stone filled the air.  

"What the hell was that?" Ava shouted, grabbing onto the table for support.  

Jemima's earpiece crackled to life. "Perimeter's breached," came a panicked voice from one of the guards. "They're inside!"  

"Move!" Jemima ordered, her voice cutting through the chaos.  

The team scattered, grabbing weapons and heading toward the sound of gunfire. The air was thick with smoke as they moved through the estate, the sounds of shouting and gunfire growing louder.  

In the chaos, the group became separated. Jemima, Dimitri, and Vanessa found themselves in the east wing, while Marcus, Ava, and Jay were forced toward the west.  

Jemima's group rounded a corner, only to be met with a hail of bullets. They ducked for cover, returning fire as the enemy advanced.  

"We're pinned down!" Jemima shouted into her earpiece, but there was no response.  

On the other side of the estate, Marcus, Ava, and Jay faced their battle. They were cornered in the west courtyard, outnumbered and outgunned.  

"We're not going to make it out of this," Ava said, her voice shaking.  

"Don't say that," Marcus snapped, firing at an approaching enemy. "We're not done yet."  

Jay was silent, his focus entirely on the fight. But even he knew the odds were against them.  

Back in the east wing, Jemima's group managed to push forward, but at a cost. Vanessa took a bullet to the shoulder, and Dimitri was barely able to drag her to safety.  

"This is bad," Dimitri muttered, his voice strained.  

Jemima's heart pounded as she scanned their surroundings, searching for a way out. But there was none. They were trapped.  

And then the earpiece crackled.  

"We've got them," a cold, unfamiliar voice said. "Marcus Valerian, Ava Valerian, and Jay are in our custody. Surrender now, or they die."  

Jemima's blood ran cold.  That was her whole world! Her siblings and the love of her life. 

"Don't do it," Jay's voice came through, strained but defiant. "Don't give in to him, Jem."  

Jemima's grip on her weapon tightened, her mind racing. The weight of her choices pressed down on her like never before.  

And then the line went dead.