All Chapters of The War Between Us: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Alexander Li ChenI saw him before she did.That was the problem with knowing what to look for…you stopped believing in coincidence entirely.The problem with Milena was that, unlike most living things in this city, she didn’t operate on the assumption that the universe would one day decide to eat her alive. She believed, genuinely, that risk was a thing you measured and put away. That the monsters in the basement would knock before coming up the stairs.In some ways, it was exactly what I liked about her. In others, it made me want to shake her until she saw the blood on her own hands.I’d followed her for three blocks, keeping distance, engine off, shoes silent against the curb. I could have told you her route before she left the apartment. She walked with that rare lack of self-consciousness that said she’d grown up somewhere safer, or at least that she’d outlived her reasons for flinching.Milena slowed in front of the café, hesitating just long enough to check the menu taped to t

Milena Dragovic“That all you’ve got?”I froze. The voice came from behind me. The rest of the gym was empty, but I didn’t need to look behind me to know who it was.“I thought you weren’t training today,” I said, the words coming out with a bite I hadn’t intended. He moved closer, footsteps slow, deliberate. I could hear the faint drag of his shoes on the mat.I’d once seen him break a man’s nose in less than a second.I’d also seen him spend thirty minutes coaxing a trembling rookie back onto the ring apron after a panic attack.He was a study in contradictions, and I hated that he was the only person who’d ever really noticed the contradictions in me, too.“I finished early,” he said. “Coach told me I could use the weights, but you’ve got the floor. Didn’t want to interrupt.” The words were perfectly neutral, but I knew better. I finally turned. He was standing by the edge of the mat, arms folded loosely across that ridiculous chest, face unreadable.He was dressed in black. The ki

Alexander Li ChenI didn’t leave because I wanted to.I left because the line I’d sworn never to cross was behind me now, and I couldn’t let myself linger on the wrong side of it. The air outside the gym felt colder, harsher, like the city itself had been waiting for me to slip. Everything I thought I had under control… a careful plan, a rigid code, even my goddamn pulse, was suddenly up for grabs.I wasn’t stupid. There were more people keeping an eye on Milena than she’d ever imagine, and none of them looked like the kind who’d be satisfied snapping a few photos and moving on. The numbers crept higher every afternoon I kept watch. What was worse, she didn’t even seem to notice. Milena’s defenses were all pointed inward, against her own ghosts. Out here, among people like me, that kind of blindness wasn’t innocence. It was a countdown.So I did what I always did: I built a file. Rayven and I spent nights tracing back the unfamiliar faces, the strange cars, the out-of-town plates. The

Milena DragovicThe first thing I noticed when I entered the dining room was the way my father had the chairs arranged and the way the warm light fell and lit up the place.In this dining room, no one was allowed to slouch, and no one dared to look away from the host until the proper courtesies had been performed. That was how things had always been in this house.My father was at the head of the table, my brother Nikolai at his right hand, and the guest seated on the left. A place that implied both trust and the expectation of tribute.Tonight, the guest was Marko.He wasn't a friend, but he wasn't just business either. My father only brought men like him home to show strength or play at civility.Marko had the kind of power my father admired most: quiet, calculated, and dangerous. His black suit seemed to swallow light. When he stood, his back straight as a knife, shoulders perfectly level, you could tell he knew exactly where he belonged in any room.Though I’d known Marko a decade

Milena DragovicMy father’s words sat between us like a verdict.I cannot protect you if you lead the life you are leading now. “You are making enemies who don’t care whose daughter you are.”For a moment, I didn’t speak. I wasn’t intimidated, but I was trying to understand which version of him I was dealing with. Was he speaking as the man who used love like leverage, who weighed affection against compliance? Or was he, for this one rare evening, the father who had once carried me home from the market on his shoulders, narrating grand fictions about the world above the heads of ordinary men, because he was terrified someone might steal me right out of his hands?When I finally spoke, the words fell out with calculated indifference, as if I were resolving a technical misunderstanding at work. “You mean Alexander, don’t you?”His gaze flicked to mine. Just for a fraction of a second.But I caught it, as he must have known I would.However, my father said nothing.“I know how this goes,