LOGINMira had not sat down once.Not in the last three hours.She paced the length of the living room so many times that the rug had begun to shift beneath her heels. Her phone was clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles had gone white. Every passing car outside made her flinch. Every shadow through the window made her heart leap.No one would tell her anything.Slate had only said, “We’re handling it.”Handling it.As if Aaron were a business arrangement. As if he weren’t—Her throat tightened.She refused to think the word.The gates outside began to open.The sound of the mechanism echoed faintly through the house.Mira froze.Her breath stopped.Headlights cut across the window.Her heart slammed so violently she had to grab the edge of the table to steady herself.The car rolled into the driveway.The engine shut off.Silence.The front door opened before anyone could knock.Mira didn’t remember crossing the distance. One moment she was inside, the next she was on the steps,
The door shut with a muted thud.For a moment, the sound felt too small compared to what had just happened.Aaron sat in the back seat, hands trembling in his lap. The interior of the car smelled like leather and something faintly metallic—gunpowder still clinging to the air from Zayden’s jacket.The world outside the tinted windows moved on as usual.Cars passing. Streetlights glowing. Life continuing.It felt wrong.Zayden slid in beside him, closing the door quietly. Slate took the driver’s seat without a word, engine starting smoothly as if this were just another night.Just another rescue.Just another body left behind.Aaron stared at his hands.They wouldn’t stop shaking.He pressed them between his knees to hide them.“You’re safe,” Zayden said.His voice was lower now. Not commanding. Not cold.Aaron let out a shaky breath that turned into something halfway between a laugh and a sob.“I was about to die.”The words sounded unreal when spoken aloud.Zayden’s jaw tightened slig
The sound wasn’t a gunshot.Not really.It was the sharp click of metal being tested, slow and deliberate, followed by a quiet, mocking chuckle that told me exactly what it was meant to be.Fear.Pure fear.I stood frozen inches from the exit door, my fingers wrapped tightly around the handle, my entire body locked in place like prey caught mid-step. My breath came shallow and uneven, my chest tight enough to hurt.Behind me, the man shifted his weight.I could feel him there without turning, feel the shape of him, the intent radiating off his body like heat.“Easy,” he said calmly, almost amused. “I didn’t fire it.”I swallowed hard.My throat felt raw, scraped dry by terror.“I was just checking,” he continued. “Making sure it was still loaded.”A laugh followed—soft, cruel.I felt the barrel press against the back of my head.Not hard.Just enough to remind me how close death was.“You know,” he said, “I’ll give you credit.”My hands trembled uncontrollably.“You’re smarter than mo
The man froze for half a second.That was all I needed.Instinct took over before fear could catch up, before I would let the doubt make me think I was weak, hurt, alone. My body moved on its own, memories from years ago came snapping into place like something that had been waiting years to be used.I closed the distance between us in two strides.My fist connected with his jaw hard, sharp.The impact shocked us both, I knew I still had it in me.He staggered back, swearing, hands flying up too late as I followed through with a second strike, this one to the throat. He choked, eyes wide, surprise flashing across his face.I didn’t stop.I couldn’t.Adrenaline drowned out the pain screaming from my ribs and wrists, the room narrowing until there was nothing but him and the next move.I drove my elbow into his temple.He went down hard.I barely registered the sound of his body hitting the concrete before I was on him again, knees digging into his chest, fists striking wherever I could
AaronThe silence after they left was worse than the pain.It pressed in on me from all sides, thick and suffocating, broken only by the hum of the flickering bulb overhead. My wrists burned where the rope had rubbed the skin raw. My body ached everywhere my ribs, my head, my jaw but none of it hurt as much as the thought clawing through my chest.Zayden isn’t coming.I hadn’t believed it at first.Even after the call. Even after the video. Even after the way the Russian man had smiled like he already knew the ending.Zayden always came.That was the truth I had clung to since the beginning through the secrets, the danger, the unease I never quite voiced. Zayden didn’t abandon what belonged to him.But time passed.And nothing happened.No doors bursting open. No gunfire. No cold familiar presence filling the room with certainty.Just me.Alone.Forgotten.The door creaked open.My heart slammed violently against my ribs as one of them stepped inside, the one who had stayed behind bef
I left the mansion knowing I had just witnessed the calm before a massacre.Zayden Blackwood had stood there, perfectly still, perfectly composed while the world tried to provoke him. I had watched him listen to Russian voices threaten what mattered most, watched him say you can have him without hesitation, without heat, without a flicker of visible reaction.Anyone else would have mistaken that for indifference.I knew better.Zayden didn’t erupt.He erased.Still, knowing that didn’t stop the unease curling in my gut as I drove away from the estate. The road blurred beneath the tires, my thoughts stuck on the same image I couldn’t shake: Aaron on a grainy screen, bruised and shaking, eyes red with fear.Zayden had watched the entire video.Every second.And then he had dismissed it like it was nothing.That silence was what scared me.By the time I reached Aaron’s apartment building, dusk had settled in, the sky heavy with clouds that threatened rain. The street was too quiet. No po







