Dangerous Alliance

Kai spent the next morning staring at the unfinished canvas in his studio, his mind clouded by the confrontation with Ethan the night before. The journalist was a complication he couldn’t afford—sharp, persistent, and clearly unwilling to back off.

Black Thorn wouldn’t tolerate that kind of attention.

The envelope still sat on the table, unopened. It was a silent reminder of the noose tightening around Kai’s neck. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the envelope and ripped it open, scanning the contents.

Coordinates. A date and time.

His stomach sank. He knew what this meant. Black Thorn wanted him to deliver another encoded message in one of his paintings. And whatever they had planned, it was big.

His phone buzzed, and he answered without looking at the caller ID.

“What?”

“You’ve been quiet,” came the familiar, smooth voice of Damon Vega, Black Thorn’s leader.

Kai gritted his teeth. “I got your message.”

“And?”

“I need more time.”

Damon’s laugh was soft, almost amused. “Time isn’t a luxury we have, Lennox. You’re already on thin ice after last month’s delay.”

“I said I’ll do it,” Kai snapped. “You’ll get what you want.”

There was a pause, and then Damon’s voice hardened. “You’d better. Because if you don’t, you know what happens next.”

The line went dead, leaving Kai gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.

----------------

Meanwhile, Across Town

Ethan sat in a cramped office above a diner, reviewing the information he’d gathered on Kai Lennox so far. The space was dimly lit and smelled faintly of old coffee and fried food, but it was private—a safe place to work outside the official channels of his cover.

He scribbled notes in his journal, his thoughts racing. The meeting he’d witnessed in the café, the tension in Kai’s studio, the envelope—everything pointed to Kai being tangled up in something bigger than just art.

But what?

The sound of footsteps on the stairs made Ethan tense. He reached for the Glock hidden under the papers on his desk, relaxing only when the door opened to reveal a familiar face.

“You look like hell,” said Harper Reyes, one of Ethan’s few trusted allies in the department. She dropped a file on the desk and leaned against the doorframe.

“Nice to see you too,” Ethan muttered, flipping through the file.

“Thought you’d want an update on Black Thorn’s movements,” Harper said. “There’s chatter about a big operation in the works. There are no specifics yet, but it’s enough to make the brass nervous.”

“Great,” Ethan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Harper crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look. “How’s your artist friend? Lennox, right? Do you think he’s involved?”

Ethan hesitated, his mind flashing back to the moment Kai had dropped the palette knife. The raw vulnerability in his eyes had been real, but so was the danger he was caught in.

“I think he’s in over his head,” Ethan said finally. “And I think Black Thorn knows it.”

Harper raised an eyebrow. “And you’re not planning to bring him in yet?”

“Not until I know exactly how deep this goes,” Ethan replied.

Harper frowned but didn’t argue. “Just don’t get too close, Cross. These people don’t play by the rules.”

Ethan smirked. “Neither do I.”

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