Chapter 153 Torment

Chapter 153 Torment

"Who exactly are you? How do you know so much about Syndicate?"

The camera flashes were blinding, and microphones were nearly shoved into her face.

Sean's brow furrowed, a flash of cold anger crossing his eyes. He reached out and pulled Isabelle against him, the crisp scent of cedarwood cutting through the chaos around them.

"Back off." Sean's voice was ice.

Akin and Flynn moved in immediately, forcing a path through the frenzied crowd of reporters.

Sean kept Isabelle close and walked straight out of the Park Hyatt without answering a single question.

The black Maybach rolled smoothly through the Washington night.

The cabin was quiet.

Isabelle leaned back in her seat, watching the streetscape drift past the window with casual indifference.

Sean's phone buzzed. He answered, listening as one of his men spoke in a low, controlled voice.

He hung up and turned to look at Isabelle beside him.

"The FBI convoy transporting Alfie was hit with heavy fire on the bridge." Sean's tone was even, but his eyes were sharp and fixed on her. "He's been taken. No survivors left at the scene."

Isabelle didn't look up. "Oh," she said, unbothered.

Sean gave a quiet laugh. He knew this little fox far too well.

"Your people?" he asked.

Isabelle turned and met his gaze. She didn't deny it.

"Letting him rot in a federal prison is too easy." Her voice was flat, like she was talking about nothing important. "He's my prey. I'll deal with him myself."

That was a confession.

Openly ambushing an FBI convoy on the streets of Washington to break someone out, that took nerve that could shake the sky.

If it came out, the entire federal government would come after her.

But Sean felt no irritation. He didn't even think about stopping her.

He watched the reckless confidence behind Isabelle's cool eyes, and something indulgent spread freely through him.

"Do whatever you need to do." Sean reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his voice low and steady. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you. I'll handle the cleanup. Tomorrow morning, all the FBI will find on their desk is a closed case report on a gang shootout."

He wouldn't ask what methods she used, or where she'd taken him.

He would simply be the ground beneath her feet.

Half an hour later, the Maybach stopped in front of a villa on the west side.

Isabelle got out and walked straight inside.

She took the stairs down to the basement.

The harsh white lights were on. The air was thick with the smell of blood.

Alfie was suspended upside down from the ceiling with heavy-duty tactical zip ties. His tailored suit was torn and soaked through, blood dripping from his forehead onto the cold steel floor.

Caius stood nearby, turning a tactical knife over in his hand, his expression merciless.

He'd clearly had time for a warm-up before Isabelle arrived.

At the sound of footsteps, Alfie forced his swollen eyes open.

When he saw it was Isabelle walking in, his whole body began to shake.

The moment he'd been pulled off the FBI vehicle, he'd thought Syndicate headquarters had sent someone to rescue him.

It wasn't until the hood went over his head and he was dragged into this basement, until he saw Caius's face, that he understood he'd fallen into something far worse.

"You... who are you..."

Hanging upside down, his voice hoarse, Alfie stared at her with raw terror.

The way she operated. The encrypted commands. The way Caius obeyed her without question.

That impossible thought pushed back into his mind.

Isabelle ignored his question.

She walked to the metal table and picked up the black meteorite scalpel. The blade caught the light with a cold, pale gleam.

She stepped in front of Alfie and tapped the flat of the blade lightly against his cheek.

"I don't have time for stalling." Isabelle's voice was sharp and direct. "Who planned the explosion at Base Seven? How did Nyx die?"

At the name "Nyx," Alfie's pupils contracted sharply.

The cold blade slid from his cheek down to his carotid artery. The sting of it broke him completely.

He knew Syndicate's interrogation techniques too well. He also knew there was no way he was walking out of here alive.

"It... it was the boss..." Alfie was breathing in ragged bursts, his defenses completely gone, the truth spilling out in fragments. "Nyx... she controlled half of Syndicate's access and resources... the boss was threatened by her... so... he planned the explosion..."

Isabelle's eyes went cold.

Just as she'd thought. All of it traced back to Syndicate's leader.

The air in the basement was brutal.

Isabelle flipped the meteorite scalpel in her hand and made a precise cut along the muscle of Alfie's thigh, clear of the artery, severing nerve endings with calculated accuracy.

A muffled, desperate groan came from behind the gag in Alfie's mouth.

Caius watched from the side, a chill moving through him at the sight of Isabelle's practiced, devastatingly effective technique.

She was harder than before.

"Where are Syndicate's money transfer hubs in North America?" Isabelle's voice stayed flat. Her hands didn't stop.

The blade pressed into the gap between Alfie's ribs.

Cold sweat soaked through him entirely. The pain had stripped away every last wall.

In broken pieces, he gave up three of Syndicate's hidden locations in Washington and New York, along with a list of senior contacts responsible for communications.

Isabelle picked up the tablet beside her and recorded every name and address.

Once she was sure she had it all, she stood up and drew the blade in one casual motion.

Alfie's carotid opened. Blood poured out. His body convulsed a few times, then went still.

Isabelle dropped the scalpel and pulled off her surgical gloves.

Back upstairs in the living room, Sean was on the sofa.

He held a cup of black coffee, completely composed, as if he had no idea what had just ended in the basement beneath his feet.

Isabelle dropped the tablet onto the coffee table and slid it toward him.

"Syndicate's North American locations and contacts." She poured herself a glass of water and took a sip. "Caius's people are tied up on Wall Street, they can't move on Washington's underground network directly. I need you to look into these."

Sean set down his coffee and picked up the tablet, scanning the screen.

The list was dense, names that ran deep into North America's political and business circles.

That wasn't the point, though.

The point was that Isabelle had handed it to him.

She hadn't sent Caius, who would do anything for her. She'd chosen Everlight.

Something unmistakably pleased surfaced in Sean's dark eyes.

He knew better than anyone how heavily guarded Isabelle kept herself.

That she'd put Syndicate's core intelligence in his hands, it meant she'd finally let him into the circle of people she truly trusted.

The knowledge that she was depending on him gave Sean a satisfaction he hadn't felt before.

"Got it." Sean set the tablet down and looked at her steadily. "Three days. I'll tear out every one of these locations at the root. Nobody on that list gets away."

Isabelle nodded. "Don't leave a trace."