The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 180

Chapter 97-2

Claim

“What happened out there?” Jade asks, her voice muffling slightly against Mayhem’s shoulder before she turns her head, her hands resting flat against her husband’s chest. She wipes a stray tear from her cheek, her sharp green eyes flicking between the three men. “Tell us. What did you find on Route 9?”

Dad walks over to the kitchen, pulls out a high-backed barstool at the marble island, sinks down onto it with a low, gravelly groan that makes my heart ache. He looks older in this light, the deep lines around his eyes carved deeper by fatigue and the heavy burden of leadership.

“It’s worse than we thought,” Dad says, his voice flat, stripped of all emotion. “Knox isn’t just running a small-time distribution operation out of that ridge. He’s built a full-service, industrial-grade lab.”

I feel Locke’s frame tense beside me, his fingers tightening around my waist.

“An industrial lab?” I echo softly, my brow furrowing. “Inside the old chemical processing plant? It’s not nearly big enough for a drug operation like that, is it?”

“You’re right, it’s not… on the surface,” Mayhem grunts, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. “But Knox has built extensively underneath it. Dad spotted the exhaust vents and the tunnel entrances.”

“We slipped past their outer perimeter patrols at two in the morning,” Locke explains. “Their guards are fucking sloppy, but their hardware isn’t. Knox has thermal camera rigs mounted on thirty-foot towers, powered by underground generators. We had to move through the ravine, keeping below the mudline to hide our heat signatures.”

A shiver runs down my spine as I imagine Locke, Dad, and Mayhem crouching in the freezing, water-logged mud while high-tech lenses swept the dark woods above them. The thought of a single mechanical sweep catching any of them turns my stomach to ice.

“We got within fifty yards of the main entrance,” Locke continues. “We tapped into their secondary radio frequency using the scanner Cobra brought, and we heard plenty. Not everything, I’m sure, but… enough.”

“What did you hear?” Jade asks.

“That they aren’t just cutting product at that lab,” Dad says. “Knox’s chemist, a guy from the coast named Styx, is refining high-grade synthetic opioids on a commercial scale. We saw three unmarked refrigerated trucks parked in the lower staging area, getting loaded with steel barrels.”

“Steel barrels?” Jade echoes, her arms folded tight over her chest, her eyebrows pulled down. “Where are they moving that much weight?”

“Everywhere,” Dad says coldly, laying his calloused hands flat on the marble counter. “Across state lines, through the ports, into the city. Knox is building a pipeline that could flood the entire coast with fentanyl in less than a month.”

The air in the kitchen grows heavy, suffocatingly dark. The full scope of what we are up against settles over the penthouse like a thick, toxic fog.

This isn’t just a rivalry between formerly allied motorcycle clubs anymore. This isn’t even a personal vendetta against me and Dad. Knox is building an empire of poison, and the Grinning Skulls is the only thing standing directly in his way.

1/2

<Chapter 97-2

Claim

“Did they see you?” I ask softly, looking between Dad, Mayhem, and Locke. “Did anyone know you were There?”

Locke looks down at me, his eyes softening just enough for me to see the absolute devotion shining through the dark veil of war.

“No,” Locke answers firmly. “We were ghosts. Cobra mapped the primary power conduits, Mayhem tagged all the entrances and exits, and I placed tracking beacons on the three transport trucks.”

“So you know where the supply is going,” Jade says, a sharp, dangerous glint returning to her eyes. “You can track every shipment out, and any supplies being brought back in.”

“We know where the whole heart of his operation beats,” Mayhem says, resting his heavy hand on the nape of Jade’s neck. “And now we know exactly where to plant the knife.”

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