His blood ran cold. For a second, he’d thought these punks were just dumbasses looking for trouble. But now? His brain was screaming at him, blaring sirens in all directions.

  The one thing awakened fighters feared most—blind greed. Recklessness.

  Pills like that weren’t meant to be taken in bulk. You force your body past its limit like that, and there’s only one way it ends. You fucking break.

  "STOP HIM! NOW!"

  But it was too fucking late.

  Finnick’s whole body convulsed. His muscles bulged, veins throbbing like snakes under his skin. His hands twitched and flexed, fingers digging into his own arms. His face turned a sickening shade of red—like his blood was boiling from the inside out. And then white, frothing foam dribbled from the corners of his mouth.

  Frost felt his stomach lurch. "No way…"

  Axel leaned back in his chair, watching everything unfold on the monitors. His eye twitched.

  The casino floor was pure fucking panic. Finnick let out a thunderous roar, throwing his arms wide. His leather jacket ripped apart, and in its place—a layer of jet-black scales crawled across his skin, glistening like obsidian armor.

  The air in the room shifted. A deadly, almost primal energy surged around him.

  Frost’s face drained of color. "Fuck!"

  The entire casino erupted.

  "INFECTED! INFECTED!"

  "HOLY SHIT—GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

  The same security enforcers who were beating Finnick down seconds ago? They were now backing the fuck up. The gamblers who had been cheering for blood moments ago? They were tripping over each other, shoving and clawing their way toward the exits.

  And Kieran? He was standing perfectly still. Watching the panic spread like wildfire.

  Perfect.

  He glanced at Finnick—who, for just a split second, broke character. And winked.

  The atmosphere in the room shifted.

  Vexler was on his feet, his face twisted in rage. "SKYE—WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?! DID YOU JUST UNLEASH A GODDAMN INFECTED IN A CROWDED CASINO?!"

  Skye didn’t flinch. "Relax."

  "RELAX?! Do you have ANY IDEA how deep your grave is if this—"

  "He’s faking it." A new voice cut in.

  Vexler turned, his glare landing on the handsome man sitting beside him—the one who had barely spoken until now.

  Axel narrowed his eyes.

  This guy...

  The second he walked into the room, Axel had felt it. Pressure.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The weight of someone who wasn't normal.

  And now?

  "You’re telling me he’s pretending?" Vexler spat.

  "Yes." The man didn’t even blink.

  "Impossible," Vexler muttered.

  Axel chuckled. "Actually... it’s fucking genius."

  Because now? With the casino in full chaos and security focused on containing an 'infected' incident'...

  The real operation was about to begin. Skye’s voice came over the radio, sharp and steady.

  "Move in. Now."

  Freya nodded, already issuing orders to the strike team waiting outside. Axel exhaled, his eyes shifting to the towering neon-lit casino outside the window. Axel exhaled, his eyes shifting to the towering neon-lit casino outside the window.

  .....

  Frost was frozen in place. For the first time in a long time, he had no fucking clue what to do.

  The scene before him was chaos—guests trampling over each other in a blind panic, security standing around like headless chickens, and the so-called "infected" bastard still standing there, scales glistening under the flashing neon lights.

  His men? Yeah. They were gone.

  "Screw this. Let’s call the cops and get the hell out of here."

  "Yeah, I’m not getting involved in this shit."

  Frost clenched his teeth. Fucking cowards. But deep down, he knew they were right.

  "Fine," he muttered under his breath. "I’ll call it in. You guys lay low. Stormrider, Milo, you’re staying with me to deal with the pigs."

  The rest of them nodded and quickly slipped away, blending into the panicked crowd. They needed to disappear—keep their names and faces off the record.

  Just as Frost was about to dial, a cold female voice rang out from outside.

  “We got a report about an infected person here. Who's in charge?”

  Frost froze. He knew that voice. It was Freya, the deputy captain working under Skye from the Law Enforcement Bureau…

  Behind her was Cross, the deputy director of the district police station.

  "If this were a simple public disturbance, we wouldn’t get involved," Freya said coolly. "But an infected? That makes it our business."

  Frost could sense Cross’s hesitation, and it pissed him off. Meanwhile, the private room outside had gone dead silent. Skye clenched his fist, watching as more than a dozen people were dragged out by Freya’s team and shoved into law enforcement vehicles. Skye’s face was lit up with excitement—Vexler’s frown softened slightly as he watched.

  Vexler was itching to get the full picture of Skye’s plan, but he knew time was short, so he held back.

  “Vexler, looks like I’m not needed here after all,” said the handsome man who’d accompanied him, chin in hand, eyes trained on Skye.

  “It’s hard to say. These guys are a bit reckless,” Vexler replied, maintaining his cool. He squinted and followed him out of the private room, stepping into the busy street outside. The hotel still hummed with activity, the lights blazing, while a group of law enforcement officers stumbled around, clearly running on fumes after days of nonstop work. But despite their exhaustion, the energy in their eyes was electric.

  Vexler cracked a slight grin, hands tucked behind his back as he got into the car.

  “Watch the hotel’s entrances and exits. Don’t let Wolfe slip away. Check every vehicle,” he ordered. Two more teams from the Law Enforcement Bureau had arrived at the scene.

  Not far off, Cross stood grim-faced, his phone pressed to his ear as he dialed. It was going to be a long night. No sleep for anyone tonight.

  Up on the 32nd floor of the hotel was Wolfe’s office. The massive curved floor-to-ceiling windows were spotless, just as Wolfe liked them. He often stood by the window, gazing out over half the city below.

  “Mr. Nash, it looks like it’s finally over. You’ve been working hard these past few days—here’s to you.”

  Wolfe raised his glass in a salute to Nash, sitting across from him.

  Nash adjusted his cuffs, pushing up his glasses as he replied, “You’re too kind. This has nothing to do with me. Mr. Wolfe, your plan was flawless. Not only did you clear your name, but you also played Skye like a fiddle. Still, I recommend you keep a low profile for now. Vexler has a lot of trust in Skye.”

  Wolfe chuckled, dismissing the concern. “I’m not worried.”

  But just then, there was a sharp knock on the door.

  "Come in. What’s with the urgency?" Wolfe set his glass down and shot Frost a disgruntled look. "Is everything settled?"

  Wolfe had seen his fair share of awakened people causing trouble over gambling losses. This time there were just a few more people involved, but his men were more than capable of handling it.

  “Boss, something’s wrong. They fought and got taken away,” Frost said, voice tight.

  Wolfe raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it normal for people to get hauled off for fighting? Just let Cross handle it."

  Frost’s throat went dry. “No, boss. It’s not Cross who took them. They were taken by the Law Enforcement Bureau!”