CHAPTER 34: CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Chapter Thirty-Four

Malachi’s POV

By evening, I couldn’t take it anymore.

Alicia’s silence was suffocating. Not the comfortable quiet of two people at peace—this was the silence of secrets. Of walls so thick I couldn’t see what was destroying her from the inside.

I’d tried patience. Tried softness. Tried giving her space.

None of it worked.

She was slipping further away with every passing hour, and I was done playing the gentleman.

"Maurice."

He appeared in the doorway of my hotel suite within seconds. "Yes, boss."

"Get me access to Alicia’s phone." The words came out flat. Final. "Whatever way you can."

Maurice’s eyes widened slightly. "Sir, if the madam finds out—"

"Are you planning to tell her?" I turned to face him fully, letting him see exactly how done I was with obstacles.

"No. Of course not, sir."

"Then we don’t have a problem." I checked my watch. "I need access in an hour."

Maurice hesitated for only a heartbeat before nodding and disappearing.

The moment he left, I poured myself a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid burned going down, but it didn’t touch the fire eating through my chest.

Alicia was driving me insane.

I’d built empires. Destroyed enemies. Controlled every variable in my life with surgical precision.

But her? She was chaos wrapped in trauma, and I was addicted to the taste of it.

I wanted her. Wanted to pull her out of whatever darkness was consuming her and keep her somewhere safe. Somewhere mine. A caged bird that sang only for me.

The thought should have disturbed me. Should have made me question what kind of man fantasized about possession instead of love.

But I’d stopped pretending to be a good man years ago.

I swirled the whiskey, watching the light catch in the glass. Whoever had put that fear in her eyes—whoever made her flinch and check her phone every thirty seconds and cry when she thought no one was watching—was already dead.

They just didn’t know it yet.

After the final conference session ended, we returned to the hotel in silence. Alicia went straight to her room without a word. No goodnight. No acknowledgment. Just the quiet click of her door closing.

Shutting me out.

Again.

I stood in the hallway for a long moment, staring at that closed door. Part of me wanted to knock. To demand entry. To refuse to leave until she told me everything.

Instead, I returned to my suite and called Dante.

He answered on the second ring. "What’s up, big boy?"

"We’re hunting Zhao tonight." My voice came out cold. Controlled. "No excuses. Call Mavis and assemble the team."

I needed violence. Needed to direct this rage at something that deserved it before I did something I’d regret.

"Malachi..." Dante’s tone shifted. Concerned. "Are you alright?"

"We move tonight." I ended the call before he could ask more questions.

I poured another glass of whiskey. Drank it faster than the first.

One way or another, Alicia would be mine. I’d tried the civilized approach—asking, waiting, respecting her boundaries.

But I was done with civilization.

If she wouldn’t come to me willingly, I’d remove every obstacle between us. Travis. Her father. Whatever demons haunted her. I’d burn them all and build something new from the ash.

When I thought about Travis—about the bruises he’d left on her skin, the fear he’d carved into her soul—my fingers tightened around the glass.

It shattered.

Shards bit into my palm. Blood welled up, dripping onto the carpet in dark spots.

I didn’t flinch. Didn’t hiss. The physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my chest every time Alicia looked at me like I was just another man who’d hurt her eventually.

I pressed my hand closed, feeling glass grind deeper. Watched my blood fall.

This is what loving you feels like, I thought. Sharp. Consuming. Inevitable.

A knock interrupted my thoughts. Hotel staff with cleaning supplies and a medical kit, summoned by my earlier call.

They worked quickly, efficiently, not meeting my eyes. Smart. I probably looked unhinged—standing in a pool of broken glass and blood, still holding the stem of the shattered tumbler.

After they left, I bandaged my hand with sharp, precise movements. The cut wasn’t deep. Would heal in days.

Unlike the wound Alicia had carved into my chest without even trying.

I walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Dark City. The skyline glittered like scattered diamonds against velvet darkness.

This city belonged to me now. I’d built my empire here over three years of exile. After Emily died—after Mario’s betrayal destroyed everything—I’d come here with nothing and forged something powerful from rage and grief.

I’d vowed to return to Silver Lake City stronger. To make Mario pay for what he’d taken from me.

But now there was another priority. Another vow.

Alicia.

She’d filled every empty space in my chest with something toxic and addictive. Pain mixed with longing. Obsession disguised as protection.

I wanted to possess her. Claim her. Keep her somewhere only I could reach.

And I would.

My phone buzzed. Maurice.

"You have access now, sir."

An attachment link followed. I opened it.

Alicia’s entire chat history loaded on my screen.

I scrolled through quickly. Most conversations were mundane—grocery lists, appointment confirmations. My contact was saved simply: Brother-in-law.

Not Malachi. Not even his name.

Just a title. A relationship. A box she’d put me in.

My jaw clenched.

Then I saw it. A contact saved as Murderer.

Every instinct went on high alert. I clicked it.

The conversation loaded.

Murderer: Little Ghost. Long time, no see.

Murderer: [photo attached]

Murderer: Time’s running out, Little Ghost. Mr. Chen is very eager to meet his bride. Your sister looks beautiful in white, don’t you think? 500k by Friday or the wedding moves forward. Don’t make me contact your husband’s family. I’m sure they’d be interested to know about our arrangement.

My vision went red.

Her father. That’s who "Murderer" was. The man who’d sold her to Travis like cattle. The man who’d abused her as a child.

And now he was threatening her sister.

I scrolled further. More messages. More threats. Photos of a young girl—seventeen, maybe—standing next to a man three times her age.

Sophie. Her sister’s name was Sophie.

Fifty million dollars. That’s what he wanted. That’s why Alicia had been falling apart.

She was trying to save her sister. Alone. Without help. Because she’d learned long ago that no one would save her.

The rage burning in my chest crystallized into something colder. More dangerous.

I dialed Maurice. "Find the location of the contact saved as ’Murderer’ in her phone. I want it now."

"Yes, sir."

Thirty seconds later, a notification pinged. An address in the warehouse district. Of course. Men like Robert Hayes always crawled into the filthiest corners.

I texted Maurice: Send a team to that location. Surveillance only. No contact. I’ll handle this personally.

Then I grabbed my jacket and keys.

Zhao Wei could wait. This couldn’t.

But as I reached the door, logic overrode emotion. Barely.

If I went after her father now—alone, angry, ready to kill—I’d make mistakes. And mistakes got people hurt.

Alicia needed her sister safe. That required precision, not rage.

I forced myself to breathe. To think.

First: Deal with Zhao Wei. Eliminate that threat so I could focus entirely on Alicia’s problem.

Second: Gather information on Robert Hayes, Mr. Chen, and the exact situation.

Third: Extract Sophie before her father knew I was involved.

Fourth: Make Robert Hayes regret every moment of his miserable existence.

I called Dante back. "Change of plans. We’re not just hunting Zhao. We’re ending him tonight."

✿⁠ Two Hours Later - Downtown Bar

The establishment was exactly what I expected. Dark. Loud. The kind of place where illegal deals happened in shadowed booths and nobody asked questions.

Dante stood beside me, Mavis on my other side. Behind us, six of my best men fanned out strategically.

Zhao Wei sat in the back corner, surrounded by his own crew. Seven men, all armed. All watching us with predatory awareness.

This could go violent fast.

But violence wasn’t my first choice tonight. I needed information. Needed to know what game Zhao was playing so I could end it permanently.

We approached slowly. Deliberately. Every eye in the bar tracked our movement.

Zhao Wei smiled when he saw me. Lazy. Confident. Like he’d been expecting this.

"Malachi Blackwood." He gestured to the empty booth across from him. "I was wondering when you’d stop hiding behind intermediaries."

"I don’t hide." I slid into the booth. Dante and Mavis remained standing, hands visible but ready. "I delegate."

"Semantics." Zhao sipped his drink. "What brings you to my table?"

"Your people attacked my warehouse last week. Injured three of my men. Stole a shipment worth half a million."

"Did they?" He looked genuinely amused. "How careless of them."

"I want to know why."

"Why?" Zhao leaned forward. "Because you’ve been expanding into territories that don’t belong to you. Because you think the Blackwood name entitles you to everything. Because I’m tired of pretending we can coexist peacefully."

"So this is war."

"This was a warning." His smile sharpened. "But since you’re here, yes. Consider it war."

The men around us tensed. Hands moved toward weapons.

I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

"Here’s my counter-offer," I said quietly. "You have forty-eight hours to leave Dark City. Permanently. Take your operations elsewhere. In exchange, I won’t kill everyone you’ve ever cared about."

Zhao laughed. Actually laughed. "You’re outnumbered, Blackwood. Look around."

"Am I?"

On cue, every exit door opened. My people flooded in—twenty men, all armed, all positioned.

Zhao’s smile faltered.

"You see," I continued, "I own this bar. The building next door. The entire block, actually. You’re not on neutral ground. You’re in my territory. Surrounded by my people. Outnumbered three to one."

The air thickened with tension.

"Forty-eight hours," I repeated. "Or I bury you and everyone loyal to you. Your choice."

Zhao Wei stared at me for a long moment. Calculating. Weighing his options.

Finally, he nodded. "Forty-eight hours."

"Smart man." I stood. "Oh, and Zhao? If you try anything clever—any retaliation, any traps—I’ll make your death slow. Understood?"

"Understood."

I turned and walked out, my people forming a protective barrier around me.

Outside, Dante exhaled. "That could’ve gone much worse."

"It’s not over," I said. "But it buys me time."

Time to focus on what really mattered.

Alicia.

Sophie.

And making Robert Hayes disappear.