CHAPTER 163: GO ON THE OFFENSIVE

~LAYLA~

I woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains.

For a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was. The room was small, neat, and decorated in soft, neutral colours. I was not in my bedroom or a hotel.

Then it all came rushing back: the kidnapping, the rescue, Axel and Tye getting shot, Helena’s apartment.

I sat up slowly, realising I was in a bed, covered with a soft duvet. In all the whirlwind of events the night before, I hadn’t even noticed I was still wearing the gown from the gala, which was now wrinkled, stained with blood, and completely ruined.

Axel wasn’t beside me. The other side of the bed was cold, empty.

Panic fluttered in my chest for a moment before I heard a voice drifting from the living room. I pushed back the covers and padded to the door, opening it quietly.

Helena was in the kitchen, moving between the stove and the counter. The smell of coffee and bacon filled the apartment, making my stomach growl.

"Morning," I said softly, not wanting to startle her.

She turned, offering a warm smile. "Good morning, Mrs. O’Brien. How did you sleep?"

"Better than I expected, considering everything." I joined her in the kitchen. "Thank you again for letting us stay here. For everything you did last night."

"You don’t have to keep thanking me."

"I do, actually. Not many people would open their door at three in the morning to armed men and gunshot wounds."

"You needed help. I helped. That’s all there is to it." She flipped the bacon. "Coffee?"

"Please. Where’s Axel? And Tye?"

"Big boss left about an hour ago. He said he was going home to get you a change of clothes and also to inform the police that you’re fine and that he wants no publicity on the case.

"Tye... I mean Mr. Tye..." she paused, and I caught a slight flush on her cheeks, "...insisted on going to buy extra groceries. Said he’d be back soon."

"Oh." I accepted the coffee mug she handed me. "What can I help you with?"

"Nothing, ma’am. You just relax and I’ll handle breakfast."

"We’re not in the office, Helena."

"I know, but you’re still my boss."

"Okay, as your boss, I’m ordering you to let me join you."

She laughed. "That’s not fair."

"Life’s not fair. Now, where’s your cutting board? I’ll handle the vegetables."

We worked together in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Helena had eggs going on the stove while I chopped tomatoes and peppers for an omelette.

"So," I said casually, "anything happen last night after I went to bed?"

Helena’s knife slipped slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Just asking. You seem... different this morning."

"Different how?"

"I don’t know... happier and lighter."

"I’m just glad everyone’s safe."

"Uh-huh." I didn’t push, but I filed away her reaction for later.

The front door opened with a click. "Hey, princess, I’m back!"

"I said stop calling me that!" Helena called back, but there was no real heat in her voice.

I shook my head at both of them as Tye walked in carrying two bags of groceries. He looked better than he had last night, with more colour in his face, moving more easily despite the wound in his side.

"Morning, Layla," he said, setting the bags on the counter. "Sleep okay?"

"Well enough. How’s your side?"

"Been through worse."

"That seems to be your answer for everything."

"Because it’s true." He started unpacking groceries. "Fresh bread, more coffee, orange juice, and..." he pulled out a box, "...chocolate croissants for our host."

Helena’s eyes widened. "Well... thank you... sir."

Thirty minutes later, Axel returned carrying a bag from home. He pulled me into a tight hug the moment he saw me.

"How are you feeling?" he murmured against my hair.

"Sore. Tired. But alive."

"That’s all that matters." He kissed my forehead, then my lips. "I brought clothes. Thought you might want to change out of that dress."

"You have no idea."

I took the bag to the guest room, took my bath and changed quickly. Jeans, a soft sweater, actual underwear... it felt amazing to be in normal clothes again. When I emerged, breakfast was ready.

We gathered around Helena’s small dining table, the four of us crowded in, passing plates and coffee mugs.

"This is really good," Axel said, taking a bite of omelette. "Helena, you’re a fantastic cook."

"Thank you, Mr. O’Brien."

"Just Axel. We’re all friends here."

"Friends who break into your apartment bleeding at three AM," Tye added.

"Those are the best kind of friends," Helena said, and we all laughed.

It felt surreal, sitting here, eating breakfast, making jokes like we hadn’t just been through hell the night before. But maybe that’s what we all needed. A moment of normalcy before facing whatever came next.

"So," Tye said, reaching for more bacon, "what’s the..."

A knock at the door interrupted him.

We all froze. Tye’s hand moved toward his waistband, where a gun was presumably tucked. Axel tensed.

"It’s probably the doctor," Helena said, standing. "He said he’d come by to check on you both."

She was right. The same bald doctor from last night entered, black bag in hand, looking far too awake for someone who’d been doing emergency surgery at three in the morning.

"Let’s see how you’re healing," he said, getting straight to business.

He checked Axel’s wound first, nodding approvingly. "Clean. No infection. You’re lucky the bullet didn’t hit anything vital."

"So I’ve been told."

Tye was next. The doctor removed the bandage, examined the stitches, and redressed the wound. "Same for you. Keep it clean, take your antibiotics, and for the love of God, don’t get into any more fights this week."

"No promises," Tye said.

After the doctor left, we gathered our things. Helena walked us to the door.

"Thank you again," I said, hugging her. "For everything. You didn’t have to do any of this."

"Yes, I did. You’re more than just my boss, Mrs. O’Brien. You’ve been kind to me and my brothers from the very beginning. This was the least I could do."

"Still. If you need anything, anything at all, you call me. Understood?"

"Understood."

Tye lingered at the door, his eyes on Helena. "Thanks, princess."

"Don’t..." she started, but he was already walking away with that infuriating smirk.

The drive home was really quiet. We were all so tired it felt like we were wrapped in a heavy blanket of exhaustion. When we finally got to our driveway, it felt more like returning home after years away rather than just a few hours.

Inside, we collapsed in the living room. Axel on the couch, me beside him, Tye in the armchair. For a long moment, nobody spoke.

"So," I finally said, breaking the silence. "What are we going to do now?"

"About the Sinaloa?" Axel asked.

"About everything. The Sinaloa, Charles, this whole mess." I sat up straighter. "We’ve been reactive to everything since this started. Always responding to threats, and scrambling to catch up."

"What are you suggesting?" Tye asked.

"I’m suggesting that instead of being reactive, we become proactive."

Axel frowned. "Meaning?"

"Meaning we stop waiting for them to make the next move. We go on the offensive."