Matthew stood with both hands braced on the table, staring at the massive monitor wall as his men moved like shadows toward Tom's mansion.
Each mercenary wore a tiny mic hidden in the collar and a button-sized camera sewn into their vests.
Their feed streamed live.
Static flickered, then cleared into night vision green.
Twelve men. Three entrances. Zero room for mistakes.
Vinny stood next to Matthew, arms folded, jaw tight. He wasn't shaking anymore. He wasn't crying.
He was coiled fire, trying to stand still, trying not to break into Tom's mansion himself.
Matthew noticed.
He always noticed.
One of the guards' voices crackled through the speakers.
"Alpha team in position. No eyes on us yet."
Vinny leaned forward instinctively, and Matthew's hand shot out, circling his wrist.
"Sit," Matthew murmured.
Vinny lifted a brow. "I'm fine."
Matthew didn't argue.
He simply tugged him down onto his lap in one smooth, unhesitating pull.
