Hidden Secrets (editing and improving the story)

Chapter 26 - Ambush

Alexander's pov:

It had been a week since I returned to my pack following Elektra's quiet but firm rejection. I'd made my decision then—not to pursue her any further. There was no point in forcing something that wasn't meant to be. If she refused to acknowledge our bond, I wouldn't chase her. My focus had to shift to what truly mattered: putting my plan into motion.

I needed to avenge my father's death and restore order among the packs. The plan was simple in structure but deadly in execution. I'd studied Bartholomew for years. He wasn't the kind of man who left things to chance. Every move he made was calculated, every risk weighed and accounted for. That made him dangerous—but also predictable, if we were careful enough.

Our first target was his financial operations, both legal and illicit. We had learned that the key to crippling the lawful side was to first dismantle the criminal underpinnings. Over the years, we had mapped out his trafficking routes and identified most of his associates. Disguised under the alias "Rogue Alpha," we struck. One by one, we raided his convoys, looted his merchants, and freed the captives. Those we rescued were given a choice: join our pack or forge their own paths to freedom.

Next, with the support of several Alphas and high-ranking wolves, we began compiling incriminating evidence—enough to bring before the Council. Few among us liked the idea of seeking justice through official channels, but we knew it was the right path. The Council had changed. Gone were the days of passive oversight. In recent years, it had grown more active—more decisive. And Bartholomew knew it too. That's why he had become more cautious.

Tonight, he was attempting something rare and risky: transporting both cargo and human lives in one trip. He usually kept such operations separate, avoiding patterns that might draw the Council's attention. But this was our chance.

At two minutes past midnight, we took position along the dirt road our informants said he'd use—a seldom-used logging path deep in the forest. Hidden among the trees, we waited. Bartholomew's men were always well-armed, so we came ready for a fight. Two long hours passed, tension rising like mist in the underbrush.

Then we saw it: a black SUV moving silently through the trees, with two trucks trailing behind. This was it.

My warriors tensed, waiting for the signal.

I didn't keep them waiting long.

First, we disabled the vehicles by shooting out their tires, then launched our assault. The wolves guarding the convoy were caught completely off guard. Within minutes, we had disarmed them and stormed the trucks. The results were better than expected—premium-grade narcotics, control of both transport trucks, and the black SUV. All of Bartholomew's men were killed, save for one—their leader. We took him alive, knowing he could provide valuable intel on Bartholomew's next moves.

After burying the bodies in the woods, we left the scene and returned to our pack.

The attacks didn't stop there.

For an entire week, we kept the pressure on. After our first two strikes, Bartholomew responded the way we expected: he doubled the number of guards on each caravan and changed the transport routes. But it didn't matter. Our spies were always one step ahead. Each time, we intercepted the convoys, struck hard, and seized the cargo.

With every raid, we cut deeper into his operations, disrupting his finances and shaking his confidence. The first phase of our plan was complete. Bartholomew and Richard were left grasping in the dark, unable to identify who was behind the ambushes.

Word quickly spread through the criminal underworld: the two were offering an enormous reward for any information that could uncover the culprits. But no one dared to come forward. Everyone knew that Richard and Bartholomew were ruthless and vindictive—crossing them was a death sentence.