“Alice Harper is no longer in Zurich. She took a flight to Los Angeles yesterday,” said Ren, the man Jessica had assigned to keep an eye on Alice and investigate her.
Jessica widened her eyes, her expression instantly darkening with rage. Her grip tightened around the wine glass in her hand, threatening to shatter it. “She’s looking for Phoenix,” she spat.
Pushing back her chair, she shot to her feet, the dim red neon light from the bar’s ceiling casting an eerie glow over her face. Without a second thought, she snatched her jacket and stormed toward the exit.
Tiger, who had been watching from the shadows, arched a brow at her sudden movement. He rose to his feet and followed her. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, suspicion lacing his tone.
“I’m going to see Phoenix.” Jessica’s words were clipped, seething with barely contained fury.
Tiger grabbed her arm just as she reached the bar’s entrance, halting her in her tracks. “Are you insane? The boss forbade us from going near him. Phoenix is locked up at the headquarters—he’s under strict surveillance.”
Jessica yanked her arm free, eyes blazing. “I don’t care! He has to know who that woman really is.”
Tiger let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening. “And then what? Do you even have proof that she married Aaron for revenge? That’s nothing more than speculation.”
Jessica ran a frustrated hand through her hair, her breath coming fast. “I don’t need proof. I just know she can’t be trusted.”
Tiger crossed his arms over his chest, his expression hardening with skepticism. “You’re acting like this is about protecting Phoenix. But let’s be real—you’re just afraid of losing him. You’ve never liked any woman he’s been with.”
Jessica stiffened, her jaw clenching. “That’s not what this is about.”
Tiger let out a low, cynical laugh. “Oh, come on, Jess. You can lie to everyone else, but not to me. You don’t want Alice anywhere near Phoenix because you’re in love with him. Stop fooling yourself.”
Jessica’s hands curled into fists, her breath hitching. “Shut up. You don’t know anything.”
Without another word, she spun on her heels, striding toward her car with furious determination. Tiger exhaled slowly, watching as she climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition with a rough twist.
“Jessica!” he called out one last time.
But the roar of the engine drowned him out as she sped off into the night, the glow of the city lights flickering against her speeding car.
Tiger let out a low curse, shaking his head. “She’s out of her damn mind.”
And yet, he knew he couldn’t let her do this alone.
With a deep sigh, he rushed to his own car and took off after her.
...
The Greenice headquarters was no ordinary building. It was a hidden fortress on the outskirts of Los Angeles, a vast complex that appeared to be an abandoned factory from the outside but was, in reality, a sophisticated hub of criminal operations. With a network of secret tunnels, underground chambers filled with high-tech equipment, and a training facility that felt more like a prison than a school, Greenice had produced generations of assassins and criminals, ready to be deployed at any moment.
Aaron was just about to walk away from Victor when a man—one who appeared to be new to the organization—rushed toward Victor, his face stricken with panic.
“The kids you were training—they’re gone. We’ve searched everywhere, but there’s no sign of them,” he reported, his voice tight with anxiety.
Aaron smirked slightly, as if it was none of his concern. He stepped past Victor and the guards, completely uninterested in the chaos unfolding around him.
Victor flicked away his cigar, crushing it under his shoe. His eyes burned with fury. “This is your doing, isn’t it?”
Aaron stopped but didn’t turn around. He stood tall, his back straight, waiting for whatever came next.
“You freed my children,” Victor continued, his voice sharp with accusation. “I gave them a home. I taught them how to make their own money. Was I not generous enough?”
He stepped closer, his presence radiating menace.
The thought of those teenagers he had recruited suddenly vanishing sent rage coursing through him. And he knew exactly who was behind it.
“Phoenix,” Victor muttered, emphasizing the name. “You’ve changed. It’s starting to piss me off.”
Aaron finally spoke, his voice cold. “They wanted to leave. I simply gave them a way out. You trapped them here, forcing them into Greenice. You’re the real snake.”
Without waiting for a response, he resumed walking.
“Stop him,” Victor ordered.
The guards sprang into action, moving to restrain Aaron. But in an instant, the room exploded into violence.
Aaron moved swiftly, breaking the arm of the first man who grabbed him, then throwing him against the wall effortlessly. More men lunged at him at once, but Aaron was quicker. His punches landed hard and precise—striking ribs, jaws, and stomachs—sending them collapsing to the ground one by one.
But the numbers were against him. As Aaron took down another opponent, a sudden, brutal punch slammed into his back. Then another. And another.
This was the Greenice headquarters—there were dozens of men here. He was vastly outnumbered.
Victor took a step forward, his face twisted in anger. “Just looking at you makes me sick. You’re making everything more difficult.”
Two large men grabbed Aaron from both sides, forcing him down so he couldn’t fight back.
Victor approached him and delivered a powerful punch to Aaron’s face. The impact echoed in the room, now filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and suppressed groans of pain.
Aaron exhaled sharply, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but there was no sign of surrender in his eyes. He glared at Victor with burning rage.
Victor punched him again—this time in the jaw. Then a solid hit to the stomach, making Aaron double over slightly.
“How does it feel, Phoenix?” Victor whispered in his ear. “You’re nothing but a discarded stray who thinks he can escape this place.”
That was enough to snap something inside Aaron.
With all his strength, he wrenched himself free. In a flash, he slammed his elbow into one guard’s head, then kicked the other hard enough to send him sprawling. In mere seconds, he had broken free from their hold.
His gaze locked onto Victor, filled with pure fury. “I didn’t want to do this,” he muttered, “but you leave me no choice.”
Without hesitation, Aaron launched forward and drove his fist straight into Victor’s jaw. The man staggered back, blood dripping from his lip.
But Victor wasn’t going down that easily.
He retaliated, and soon, they were locked in a brutal fight—dodging, striking, and exchanging blows with lethal precision.
The air was thick with the sounds of fists colliding, bodies crashing, and ragged breathing. Aaron narrowly avoided a knife slash from one of the guards, but not before it grazed his arm. In response, he delivered a devastating blow to the man’s ribs, the sickening crack of bone breaking filling the room.
The guards rushed at him again, but Aaron stood his ground, taking them down one by one. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body battered and bruised, but retreat was never an option.
Victor, now slumped on the floor, glared at Aaron with fury before barking out, “Let him go! He won’t get far anyway.”
Aaron shot Victor a final, seething look but didn’t waste any more time.
With what little strength he had left, he rushed out of the room, leaving the tension-filled headquarters behind.