Zeke’s POV
“Tell me.”
Jax stood in front of me, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable.
Behind me, Lena was silent. Too silent.
Jax exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not gonna like this.”
“Say it.” My voice was low, sharp, already knowing. Already bracing.
He hesitated, then said the name.
“Dominic Greco.”
The room went still.
A cold weight settled in my chest.
I had been expecting a name I didn’t recognize. Some new enemy, some unknown player in this game.
But Greco?
A man I had thought was dead?
A man who had been lurking in the shadows of my family’s downfall?
I should have known. I clenched my fists, my entire body tensing with the force of it.
From behind me, there was a sharp inhale.
Lena.
I turned just in time to see her hands curl into fists, her knuckles white.
She knew. She knew the name. “You’re lying,” she whispered, but her voice trembled.
Jax glanced between us, confusion flickering across his face. “Wish I was,” he muttered. “But the intel is solid. He’s alive. And he’s the one who ordered the hit on Lena.”
She took a step back. Like she could run from this. Like she could run from me.
I moved before I thought, stepping forward, closing the distance between us.
Her breathing was unsteady, her eyes wide.
She was scared. Not of me. Not even of the name. She was scared of what it meant.
I tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her to look at me.
“Then tell me why you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I said quietly.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
She was fighting something, fighting me, fighting the truth clawing its way to the surface.
And I was done being patient.
“You knew,” I murmured.
She pulled away. “I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me, Lena.” My voice was sharper now.
She turned her back to me, arms wrapping around herself like she could protect whatever secrets she was still keeping.
Secrets I was about to rip from her piece by piece.
“You knew Greco was alive,” I pressed. “You knew he was looking for you.”
She didn’t answer.
I felt something dark coil in my chest.
She had led me in circles for days, refusing to give me the full truth. But this? This was different.
This was dangerous.
I reached out, grabbed her wrist before she could step further away. Her pulse pounded beneath my grip. Her breath hitched.
“What aren’t you telling me?”