I stared out the grimy safehouse window, watching the night crawl across the city like a bruise spreading over skin. Johannesburg used to feel like home even when it choked me. Now it felt foreign, turned on its head, each shadow a threat, every face a question.
The ambush still pulsed behind my eyes. Flashbangs. Gunfire. Screams.We barely made it out alive.And someone in my precinct someone in Hawks helped make that happen.Raffaele stood a few feet away, speaking low into a burner phone, coordinating with his contact. He moved with that same quiet control he always had. But I knew him too well to miss the edge in his tone, the tightness in his jaw. He was holding himself together for my sake.That thought did things to me. Things I couldn’t afford to feel right now.I turned away from the window and walked to the war table we’d set up blueprints, CCTV grabs, maps with red markers like blood drops. Travis hovered nearby, pale and sThe hangar looked abandoned rusted sheet metal, cracked asphalt, and a half-broken fence flapping in the wind like a warning flag. But I knew better. If Raffaele was hiding something, it wouldn’t be in some penthouse or crowded club. It will be here, in the quiet, where secrets could breathe. I parked a block away and approached on foot, boots crunching lightly against the gravel. My hand stayed on my holster. Every instinct in me was on fire. I spotted movement behind the main hangar door. A shadow. Then two. I ducked, made my way around the side, and slipped in through a service entrance. The interior smelled like dust and oil and gunmetal. My eyes adjusted slowly. Then I saw him. Raffaele stood near a sleek black SUV, hands behind his back, speaking to someone I couldn’t see from this angle. His voice was low. Controlled. Dangerous. I stepped out of the shadows. “Looking for m
I should’ve walked away. When I saw the footage had reached Myra’s hands, my first instinct was to vanish to do what I always done. Clean up the mess, shield her from the fallout, and disappear before she started asking questions I wasn’t ready to answer. But I stayed. Because somewhere between the bloodshed and broken promises, she carved a space in me I hadn’t realized was hollow. And now that she had seen Kaden… there was no going back. I watched her drive off into the night after our confrontation at the hangar. She didn’t trust me not completely. I couldn’t blame her. But the fact that she hadn’t pulled the trigger told me there was still a chance to fix this. And God, I wanted to fix this. Not just for her. For Kaden. For me. I walked back into the warehouse and locked the doors behind me. The shadows inside didn’t scare me anymore. I knew what lurked in them. Waiting.Watching.“Knew you wouldn’t be able to lie to her forever.” The voice came from the far side of the
I couldn’t breathe.I stared at the screen, frozen, my eyes fixed on the frame that held my brother Kaden alive.Alive.Every bone in my body screamed that it was impossible. That it was a trick of the light, a ghost conjured by exhaustion and grief. But it wasn’t. His face was older, sharper, but unmistakably his.My brother. The boy I had grown up with. The man I buried in a closed casket.My knees buckled, and I caught the edge of the table to stay upright.“How long have you known?” I whispered to Leo.He looked uncomfortable. “I only got the footage last night. I didn’t believe it either. I ran it through three databases.”“And you didn’t think to tell me the moment it came in?”“I did.” His tone softened. “But I also knew this would break you, Myra.”I swallowed hard. “It didn’t break me.”But it did. A little. The crack in my chest widened, spilling something I’d locked away fo
“We’ll fight this together. And I mean it.”His words echoed through the silence like a vow raw, steady, and frighteningly sincere. For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him, trying to reconcile the man in front of me with the Mafia boss I had chased for years. The man whose world was dipped in blood and secrets… was now offering me something dangerously close to loyalty. Maybe even redemption.“Raffaele,” I said quietly, eyes locking with his, “don’t say that unless you’re ready to burn everything down with me.”“I am,” he replied. “I already started.”That look in his eyes it wasn’t the usual arrogant charm or the veiled darkness I’d come to know. It was something else. Something deeper. A flicker of wariness. Regret. Maybe even grief.But before I could ask him what that meant, his phone buzzed. A single text. He looked at the screen, and something in his jaw tightened.“What is it?” I asked.“Nothing we can’t handle.” He pocketed the phone, but I wasn’t buying it.“Raff
I didn’t speak much during the drive. Myra sat in the passenger seat, arms folded tightly, eyes on the road like it might betray her. Like if she looked at me, we’d say the things we weren’t ready to admit. That the sex wasn’t just sex. That the danger wasn’t only from outside. She smelled like last night like sweat, and skin, and sin and it was driving me insane. The safehouse was tucked into the hills north of the city. Gated, guarded, invisible to the public. No cameras. No staff. Only me, her, and the silence we kept pretending didn’t hum with everything we hadn’t said. When we stepped inside, she crossed her arms and turned in a slow circle, taking in the sleek, cold luxury. “This your idea of laying low?” I shrugged. “It’s secure.” She snorted. “Of course it is. It’s the kind of place where murderers vacation.” I walked past her, ignoring the jab. “One bedroo
When I woke up again, the sun had climbed higher. A soft beam filtered through the curtains and settled on my skin like a reminder that reality always comes in the morning. Raffaele wasn’t in bed. The sheets were still warm, but he was gone. I sat up, dragging the comforter around me. My thighs ached, my lips were still tingling from the way he kissed me like I was both punishment and prize. And yet, there was a hollow space beside me now. One I didn’t want to admit felt familiar. I found his shirt on the floor and pulled it over my head, padding out into the apartment. He stood near the window, shirtless, suit pants hanging low on his hips, cell phone in hand. His voice was low and curt. “No. Not yet. Tell Nico to hold the damn shipment until I say otherwise.” His back was tense. Controlled rage, held in check by sheer will. When he noticed me, his eyes softened but just for a s