Chapter 188

Ajax’s POV

There is a moment before everything breaks.

A moment where the air feels wrong. Where instinct sharpens and your body knows the truth before your mind catches up.

That moment hits me as I stare at the screen in the war room.

Nikos.

His name sits there like a loaded gun.

Trusted. Reliable. Mid level strategist. Handled estate maps. Guard rotations. Emergency protocols. The man who always had the answers before anyone asked the questions.

The man who smiled too easily.

My jaw tightens until it aches.

“Run it again,” I growl.

Ares doesn’t argue. He replays the footage. The timestamps line up perfectly with every breach we suffered tonight. Every blind spot. Every delayed response. Every guard pulled from the wrong corridor at the wrong time.

All Nikos.

I slam my palm onto the table.

“That bastard,” I spit. “He fed them our throat.”

Nikolai stands at the head of the room. Silent. Deadly calm. That scares me more than shouting ever could. His eyes are cold now. Leader eyes. The kind that decide who lives and who doesn’t without blinking.

“He has clearance,” Nikolai says evenly. “Which means he knows he’s exposed.”

Ares looks up sharply. “Then he’s already moving.”

The alarms hit a second later.

Not the full attack siren. The internal breach tone.

My body reacts before thought. I’m already moving, gun in hand, sprinting down the corridor as guards scatter into formation around me.

“Where,” I bark into my comm.

“South stairwell,” a voice shouts back. “Level three. He took a service corridor.”

“Cut him off,” I snap. “No lethal unless necessary. I want him breathing.”

I hear Nikolai’s voice cut in. Calm. Controlled. Terrifying.

“Bring him back alive,” he orders. “If you can.”

If you can.

That’s permission.

The estate is still half smoke, half chaos. Emergency lights flash red against marble walls. The smell of gunpowder hasn’t left yet. Men shout. Radios crackle. Boots thunder.

I take the corner too fast and nearly collide with Nikos himself.

For half a second our eyes meet.

That’s when I know.

Guilt doesn’t always look like fear.

Sometimes it looks like resolve.

He bolts.

“Son of a bitch,” I roar and give chase.

He’s fast. Faster than I expected. He knows the estate layout like it’s carved into his bones. Of course he does. He helped design it.

We race down a narrow corridor. He clips a guard with his shoulder, sending the man sprawling. I fire a warning shot that explodes marble inches from his head.

“Stop,” I shout. “You’re only making this worse.”

He doesn’t slow.

He hits the stairwell and takes it three steps at a time. I follow, lungs burning, rage sharpening every movement. My boots slip slightly on blood smeared across the stairs from earlier casualties.

“Ajax,” Ares comes through the comm. “He’s heading for the underground exit.”

Of course he is.

The coward wants water between him and us.

I burst out of the stairwell and into the lower service wing just in time to see Nikos shove a guard aside and slam through a secured door.

I shoulder it open and we’re in the tunnel network beneath the estate.

Concrete. Pipes. Low lighting. Echoes.

He reaches into his jacket.

I don’t hesitate.

I fire.

The bullet takes his leg out from under him and he crashes hard, screaming as he skids across the concrete. His gun clatters away.

I’m on him instantly, knee in his spine, gun pressed to the back of his skull.

“Move again,” I snarl, “and I end you.”

He laughs.

Actually laughs.

Blood pools beneath his leg, dark and spreading.

“You’re too late,” he pants.

I grab his hair and slam his face into the floor.

“Who,” I demand. “Say the name.”

He groans but the smile is still there. That smug little curve of his mouth that suddenly makes sense.

“You already know,” he says hoarsely. “You just didn’t want to believe it.”

I press the gun harder.

“The Broker,” I growl.

His laughter turns into a cough. “A voice. Nothing more.”

My stomach drops.

“The Council,” he whispers. “They own this city. You’re just tenants.”

I hear boots pounding toward us. Ares. Nikolai. Guards flooding the tunnel.

Nikos twists suddenly, strength flaring desperate and wild. He reaches for a concealed blade at his ankle.

I fire again.

This time into his shoulder.

He screams as his arm goes limp.

I drag him up by the collar, fury vibrating through me.

“You sold children,” I hiss. “You sold pregnant women. You sold your own people.”

He spits blood. “I chose the winning side.”

Before I can answer, he surges backward with a strength fueled by terror and throws himself sideways.

Straight into the open maintenance hatch.

I lunge but I’m half a second too slow.

He drops.

The splash echoes through the tunnel as the water below swallows him.

“Fuck,” I roar.

Guards skid to a halt around me. Ares swears viciously. Nikolai stands at the edge, staring down into the darkness without expression.

“He won’t survive that wound,” Ares says grimly.

Nikolai doesn’t look away. “He didn’t need to.”

The truth lands heavy.

Nikos ran because he knew we’d uncover everything.

He ran because he was guilty.

And because someone else is still pulling the strings.

I holster my gun slowly, chest heaving, rage coiling tight and dangerous inside me.

“This isn’t over,” I say.

Nikolai finally turns to face us.

“No,” he agrees coldly. “It’s just begun.”

And somewhere in the dark, the Shadow Council is watching us bleed.