Matthew stood with both hands braced on the table, staring at the massive monitor wall as his men moved like shadows toward Tom's mansion.
Each mercenary wore a tiny mic hidden in the collar and a button-sized camera sewn into their vests.
Their feed streamed live.
Static flickered, then cleared into night vision green.
Twelve men. Three entrances. Zero room for mistakes.
Vinny stood next to Matthew, arms folded, jaw tight. He wasn't shaking anymore. He wasn't crying.
He was coiled fire, trying to stand still, trying not to break into Tom's mansion himself.
Matthew noticed.
He always noticed.
One of the guards' voices crackled through the speakers.
"Alpha team in position. No eyes on us yet."
Vinny leaned forward instinctively, and Matthew's hand shot out, circling his wrist.
"Sit," Matthew murmured.
Vinny lifted a brow. "I'm fine."
Matthew didn't argue.
He simply tugged him down onto his lap in one smooth, unhesitating pull.
Vinny landed with a soft exhale, eyes widening for a split second before narrowing.
"Seriously?"
Matthew rested his chin on Vinny's shoulder, locking an arm around his waist possessively.
"Yes," Matthew said simply.
"I think better when you're here."
Vinny scoffed. "No, you get clingy when you're stressed."
Matthew didn't deny it.
His fingers slid under the hem of Vinny's shirt, thumb tracing lazy patterns on his hip. The touch was grounding for him, territorial but gentle.
Vinny sighed but didn't move off his lap.
He leaned back slightly, the tension in his body easing as the first camera feed approached a side gate.
Matthew watched the screen with razor-sharp focus, though he kept Vinny fully anchored against him.
The mic crackled again.
"Approaching east window. No guards—wait—movement on the upper corridor."
Matthew tightened his grip around Vinny's waist, jaw clenching.
Vinny felt the shift.
"Relax," he murmured. "They're trained for this."
Matthew's voice came out low. "Trained or not, Tom plays dirty."
The feed turned sharply as the soldier crouched behind a stone pillar.
Night vision caught the shadow of a patrolling guard.
Vinny whispered, "He's going to turn toward them—"
"No," Matthew murmured, "watch."
The guard on screen moved silently behind the enemy, tapped something on his wristband, and a faint zap sounded through the mic.
The patrolling guard went down like a dropped puppet.
Vinny breathed out. "Nice."
Matthew smirked faintly against Vinny's shoulder, clearly pleased.
Vinny's fingers played absentmindedly with the collar of Matthew's shirt.
He didn't even realize he was doing it.
But Matthew noticed—because Matthew noticed everything Vinny did.
Another voice broke through:
"We've breached the west corridor. Sir… you'll want to see this."
Matthew's eyes sharpened.
"Put it on main screen."
One small feed expanded to fill the center monitor.
Vinny's breath hitched.
The corridor was long, lined with ornate lights—nothing strange at first glance.
Then the camera panned left.
Down the hall was a metal door with twelve heavy locks and a glowing keypad.
It looked like a vault meant for secrets, not valuables.
Matthew leaned in.
"That's not Tom's main security wing."
"No," Vinny whispered. "It's deeper. Hidden."
Another guard spoke:
"Sir, this door… the air feels colder here. Like something's being contained."
Vinny stiffened, panic flickering across his face.
"Aiden," he whispered. "Matthew, that's where he would keep him—something locked that tight—"
Matthew's hand shot up, gripping Vinny's chin gently but firmly, turning his face toward him.
"Don't jump to conclusions yet."
"I'm not—"
"You are." Matthew's thumb brushed Vinny's lower lip. "And I get it. Believe me, I do. But let me think."
Vinny swallowed.
Matthew leaned closer, voice low in his ear.
"If your brother's in there, nothing will stop me from tearing that door off its hinges myself."
The words hit Vinny like a heartbeat to the ribs.
Warm.
Dangerous.
Steady.
Real.
Before Vinny could answer, another voice on the mic whispered sharply:
"Someone's coming."
Matthew's grip tightened.
Vinny straightened on his lap, every muscle going rigid.
The camera swung around—
A shadow turned the corner.
Footsteps echoed.
Vinny's breath caught.
At first it was impossible to see who the figure was—then the man stepped under a dim hallway light.
Tall.
Black clothes.
Brown hair.
A dot on the cheek.
The mole.
Vinny froze.
His heart dropped into his stomach.
Matthew felt his whole body go still.
He whispered, "Vinny…?"
Vinny couldn't look away.
"It's him," he breathed.
Voice barely forming words.
"It's the guy from the footage. The one who carried the casket. The one who disconnected the tubes—"
His fingernails dug into Matthew's arm.
"He was in the mansion that night, Matthew. He's the one who killed your mother."
The air in the room changed.
Matthew didn't move for two seconds—
then every muscle in his body went rigid, like a storm winding itself tight.
His breath grew cold.
His grip on Vinny's waist turned steel.
The camera followed the mole-mark man as he unlocked the metal door and stepped inside.
Vinny whispered, voice breaking:
"He's going to Aiden."
Matthew's voice dropped into something lethal.
"Bring all teams to the vault room. Now."
The mic erupted with confirmations.
Matthew stood up, lifting Vinny with him effortlessly before setting him on his feet.
Vinny looked up at him sharply.
"Matthew—we have to go, we have to—"
Matthew grabbed Vinny's face with both hands and kissed his forehead hard, fierce, desperate.
"We will," he whispered darkly.
"Tonight."
Vinny nodded once—shaky but burning with determination.
On screen, the camera feed flickered as the soldiers closed in on the metal door.
And somewhere behind that door—
Aiden waited.
A monster watched.
And Tom smiled in the dark.
The rain hadn't stopped since dawn. It drummed against the windshield in relentless sheets, turning the world beyond the car into a blur of charcoal and silver. The kind of rain that felt intentional. The kind that felt like a warning.
Matthew tightened his grip on the steering wheel, jaw set, eyes fixed on the narrow road snaking toward the private forest where Tom's mansion sat hidden. It wasn't on any map. It didn't need to be. Men like Tom didn't want neighbors. They wanted territory.
Vinny sat beside him, hood up, breathing uneven. He hadn't said much in the hour-long drive. His finger tapped restlessly against his thigh, a rhythm Matthew recognized — anxiety he was trying to bury before it swallowed him whole.
"Breathe," Matthew murmured without looking away from the road.
"I am breathing," Vinny muttered, though the air shaking out of him was tight and shallow.
Matthew gave him a sideways glance. "You think I don't know when you're two seconds from spiraling?"
Vinny's jaw clenched. He looked out the window again. "I'm fine."
That was the lie he'd been repeating for days.
Matthew didn't push. He knew what this night meant — what it could destroy if it went wrong. Every mile they crossed tightened a coil inside Vinny's chest, because the closer they got, the more impossible it was to avoid the truth.
Aiden might be here.
Alive.
Chained. Manipulated. Used.
Vinny swallowed hard, feeling the burn behind his eyes but refusing to let it spill. He couldn't break now. Not when they were this close.
Not when hope was the only thing he had left.
The forest swallowed the car as soon as they turned off the main road. Matthew killed the headlights.
"Are you sure—" Vinny began.
"Yes," Matthew said. "This area is monitored. Light will give us away."
"How do you know?"
Matthew didn't answer at first. He slowed the car to a crawl, eyes scanning the tree line. Finally, he exhaled.
"Because this is exactly how I would set up a perimeter."
Vinny's stomach twisted. Matthew had a soldier's mind — strategic, calculating. He rarely talked about what he'd done before he met Vinny, but Vinny had seen enough scars on his body to know the truth: Matthew had lived through things most men couldn't survive.
They parked a kilometer from the mansion, hidden between two moss-covered boulders. The forest was dense here, tangled with vines and ferns taller than Vinny's shoulders.
Matthew cut the engine.
Both men sat there for a moment. The air hummed with the tension of everything unsaid.
Matthew finally turned to him. Rain dripped across his dark hair, plastering the strands to his forehead. "One last time," he said quietly. "We go in. We're fast. We're silent. We don't split up."
Vinny nodded.
"And if something happens," Matthew added, voice lowering, "you get out. Don't argue with me."
Vinny's head whipped toward him. "No."
Matthew's expression hardened. "Vinny—"
"No," Vinny repeated, leaning closer. "I'm not leaving you. Not this time."
"This time is different."
"No," Vinny said again, softer, almost pleading. "I can't lose Aiden all over again. And I'm not losing you too."
Something flickered in Matthew's eyes — vulnerability, rare and dangerous. He reached out and brushed his thumb along the side of Vinny's jaw.
"You won't," Matthew whispered.
Vinny leaned into the touch for a heartbeat, letting himself draw strength from it. Then they stepped out into the rain.
Tom's mansion didn't look like a house.
It looked like a fortress.
Thick stone walls, tall windows sealed with bulletproof glass, and floodlights positioned in a neat grid around the perimeter. But tonight, something was off — the lights were dimmer than usual. Some sections were off completely.
Vinny crouched behind a fallen log, staring at the eerie half-lit silhouette. "He knew we were coming."
Matthew gave one small nod. "He's inviting us."
Vinny's skin crawled. "Why?"
Matthew checked the magazine of his gun. "Because men like Tom only do two things: they control what they fear, or they destroy it."
Vinny's chest tightened. "Do you think Aiden is still—"
"Yes," Matthew said before he even finished. "Tom needs leverage. And Aiden is good leverage."
Vinny closed his eyes in relief and dread.
Alive.
Somewhere behind those walls.
Matthew touched Vinny's shoulder. "We go around the east wall. There's blind spot coverage where the cameras overlap."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
They moved like shadows through the wet undergrowth. Matthew led, muscle memory guiding him through the darkness with silent footsteps. Vinny followed, hands trembling despite himself. Every raindrop felt like a second ticking down toward something he couldn't fully name.
Halfway around the mansion, they froze.
A guard stood ahead, smoking under the shelter of a tree. Matthew raised two fingers — wait.
But the guard wasn't patrolling. He wasn't alert.
He was waiting.
Matthew saw it instantly. Vinny saw it a second later.
A trap.
The guard's earpiece crackled softly. Matthew couldn't hear the words, but he saw the man nod toward the forest — toward them.
Vinny swore under his breath.
"They know," he whispered.
"They always knew," Matthew answered. "Move."
They circled deeper into the trees, avoiding the guard entirely. A branch snapped to their right, and Matthew grabbed Vinny's wrist, pulling him behind a thick oak. Two more guards passed, whispering something Vinny couldn't make out.
Something about "the brothers."
Something about "bringing them in alive."
Vinny's heart hammered.
Matthew mouthed: This is bad.
Vinny mouthed back: We continue.
Matthew almost smiled — the stubbornness he loved and hated in Vinny all at once.
They reached the east wall minutes later. A narrow maintenance door was half-open, as if left waiting for them.
Matthew's eyes hardened.
"This is a message."
Vinny nodded. "Tom wants us inside."
Matthew pressed his back to the wall. "There could be explosives. Tripwires. Pressure plates."
Vinny swallowed. "We came for Aiden."
That single truth pushed them forward.
Matthew inspected the door, checking hinges, corners, screws. After a full minute, he whispered, "It's safe. For now."
They slipped inside.
The hallway was dark.
Not abandoned-dark.
Prepared-dark.
Vinny froze as the door closed silently behind them, sealing them in. The air smelled like disinfectant and something metallic.
Matthew's shoulder brushed his, grounding him. "Stay close."
Their footsteps echoed softly against polished stone floors. The walls were lined with portraits — not of family, but of Tom himself at various ages. Young, brash, arrogant. Then older, crueler, eyes colder.
Vinny whispered, "He's obsessed with himself."
Matthew replied, "People who want absolute control always are."
They climbed a staircase. The second floor was colder. A draft swept through the hallway, carrying distant sounds — dripping water, chains, someone breathing too hard.
Vinny's blood froze.
"That— Matthew. Did you hear that?"
Matthew lifted a hand, signaling silence. They listened. The sound came again — strained, muffled. Someone struggling.
Someone not far.
Someone alive.
Vinny grabbed Matthew's arm. "Aiden."
Matthew nodded once, expression steeling. "Ready?"
Vinny exhaled shakily. "I've been ready for years."
They moved toward a metal door at the end of the hall, light leaking from the gap underneath. Vinny's footsteps grew faster. He couldn't stop them. Hope ripped through him like lightning.
Matthew reached the door first and pressed an ear against it. Whatever he heard made his eyes flash with anger. He pulled out his lock picks.
But before he could start, the door clicked.
Unlocked itself.
Opened outward just a crack.
A voice echoed from inside. Calm. Cold. Amused.
"I was beginning to wonder when you two would arrive."
Vinny froze.
Matthew's entire body tensed.
The voice continued, smooth like poison.
"Come in. Both of you. Your brother has been waiting."
Vinny shoved the door open—
—and the room exploded into light.
Blinding. White. Clinical.
Vinny blinked hard, vision adjusting—
—and then he saw him.
Aiden.
Chained to a metal chair. Wrists bruised and bound. Eyes hollow but alive. His chest rose in weak, sharp breaths. A gag hung loose around his neck, as if recently removed.
"Ai—" Vinny choked, voice breaking. "Aiden. Oh my god—"
But Aiden didn't look at him.
He stared straight past them.
To the man standing in the far corner.
Tom.
Dressed in a dark suit, hands clasped behind his back, smiling like he'd won before the game began.
Matthew stepped in front of Vinny instinctively, shielding him. "Tom."
Tom tilted his head. "Matthew. Vincent." His smile widened. "Welcome to my home."
Vinny took a step forward, voice trembling with fury. "Let him go."
Tom laughed softly. "But he wants to stay."
Aiden flinched but didn't speak.
Tom continued, "He has been… very useful. You'd be surprised how loyal someone becomes when they think their suffering protects someone they love."
Vinny's heart cracked. "Aiden— no—"
Aiden's lips moved, barely making a sound. "V-Vinny… don't…"
Matthew whispered, "He's terrified."
Tom clasped his hands behind his back. "Yes. And fear is such a powerful thing. It makes people predictable." He looked directly at Vinny. "Just like you coming here tonight."
Vinny's breath hitched. "You wanted us here."
"Of course I did." Tom spread his arms. "Everything I've done has been for this moment."
Matthew raised his gun.
Tom didn't even flinch.
"That won't help you," he said. "Look up."
They did.
And Vinny's stomach plummeted.
Security guards lined the balcony above them, guns aimed down. At least twenty. Maybe more.
Matthew grimaced. "Damn."
Tom walked behind Aiden, resting a hand on Aiden's shoulder. Aiden shuddered violently.
"You came into my home," Tom said softly. "Into my carefully laid trap. And now—"
He squeezed Aiden's shoulder cruelly.
"—you will learn what it means to lose."
Vinny stepped forward, voice raw. "Don't touch him."
Tom's eyes gleamed. "Or what? You'll break? Cry? Beg?"
Matthew snarled, "Touch him again and you'll regret it."
Tom smirked. "I sincerely doubt that."
A clap echoed through the room. Instantly, the guards closed in, guns cocking.
Vinny felt Matthew shift, subtly moving between him and the danger.
No way out.
No chance of winning.
Tom stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Do you want to save your brother, Vincent?"
Vinny's breath trembled. "Yes."
"Good," Tom whispered. "Then all you have to do… is submit."
Matthew stiffened. "You're not touching him."
Tom chuckled. "Matthew. Sweet, loyal Matthew. Always protecting everyone but yourself." He leaned close enough for Vinny to smell his cologne — sharp, expensive, suffocating. "If he wants Aiden to live, he will give me what I want."
Vinny's voice was barely a whisper. "What do you want?"
Tom smiled slowly.
"You."
Matthew took a step forward, voice savage. "Over my dead body."
Tom raised a brow. "That can be arranged."
The guards tightened in.
Aiden sobbed. "Vinny… don't… please…"
Vinny's knees weakened. "Aiden— I'm here. I came for you."
"You shouldn't have," Aiden cried. "It's a trap—"
"I know," Vinny whispered. "But I couldn't leave you."
Tom clapped once more. The guards aimed higher.
Matthew grabbed Vinny's arm. "We fight our way out. We protect Aiden. We end this."
Vinny looked at the ocean of guns.
Looked at his shaking brother.
Looked at Tom's cruel, triumphant smile.
And he realized:
This was only the beginning.
Tom wasn't done.
Not even close.
And none of them were getting out of this room without blood being spilled.