Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 227

Chapter 227

…

“Full strikes,” Dom said. “You hit like you want the light to go out. You stop like you mean it. No half measures. No rehearsed gentleness.”

One of the rookies swallowed. “What if-”

“-you can’t stop?” Dom finished for him, hard and calm. “Then you don’t do this job. You walk the fold and go home. We don’t keep people who can’t hold the line.”

Make them believe they can end you; make them trust they won’t if they don’t need to.

They repeated the sequence until the air tasted like work and the strikes read like promises, edged with control.

Enzo steppes back and watched the motion, the way a man watches the clasp of a bomb he’s meant to defuse–with interest, responsibility, and a private dread he kept tidy. He keyed his phone and typed a single line, something ordinary to act as a preface to what came next.

Wear something comfortable. I’ll be late. Don’t forget I love you.

He hit send and slipped the phone into his pocket.

Smallness before the storm. A bandage for the day after.

“Clock?” he asked.

“Ten minutes,” Jake replied.

“Smoke ready?” Enzo asked.

“Loaded,” came Dom’s voice.

“Strobes?” Gino said.

“Primed,” Dom answered.

“Mask up,” Enzo said.

Thirty men drew hoods and masks into place. Fabric whispered, gloves snapped. Gino’s grin disappeared behind his mask but his tone stayed light. “Boss, this is nuts.”

“It’s necessary,” Enzo said.

The med techs did final checks, tourniquets where they needed to be, IV bags taped, a stretcher at the ready. The abort protocol was pinned on the wall where anyone could find it.

Jake’s last update buzzed in: “Target entering hotel garage. Elevator in two.”

Enzo’s jaw tightened. He braced one hand against the hood of the nearest van, the vibration threading up through his palm like a minor

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11:36 Mon, Oct 20 M.

Chapter 227

warning.

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:

If she breaks, we fix it. If she doesn’t, we learn how much more she can handle.

Dom adjusted his earpiece. “You sure she’ll forgive you?”

“She won’t need to,” Enzo said, voice low, certain. “She’s been waiting for permission to become what she already is.”

Gino snorted in a half–laugh. “Guess we’re the entertainment.”

No. The offering.

He looked up as the red countdown on Jake’s feed hit the wall–three, two, one. He gave the nod and the radio life brightened.

“Mark,” he said.

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