Alexei watches me with approval, and I wipe my mouth again, tasting copper.
The motorcycle roars beneath me, black and wild like a black leopard, vibrating straight into my bones. The cold air bites through my jacket as I tear down the road, city lights smearing into useless streaks at the edges of my vision. The engine is loud enough to drown out thought if I let it be. That’s why I ride at night. That’s why I ride way too fast. The Lambo is incredible, but the bike lets me ignore the cops.
I bought the bike with the blood money I've earned over the years. I have several million in my account right now, and a few million more in savings accounts, accruing interest. So when I bought it, I picked the fastest thing they had. Speed feels like absolution when you’re someone who doesn’t deserve forgiveness. I feel like I’m on borrowed time, so if I happen to die on this thing…so be it.
The road curves, wet pavement reflecting headlights of cars passing me by. My tires grip hard as I lean into the turn, body moving on instinct alone. Wind roars past my helmet. If I stop moving, I think. And if I think, she finds me. But she slips in anyway. Her soft laugh. The way her fingers used to hook into my hoodie when she pulled me closer. The warmth of her body against mine, like it wasalwaysmeant to be her. Nausea rises, and my muscles tighten. Fuck, I can’t even picture her anymore without my body losing its shit. My chest tightens painfully.
In another life, I could have had her.
The words slam into me so hard my vision blurs. My throat closes. I suck in a breath, and it comes out broken and jagged. I don’t pull over or even bother to slow down. I’m sobbing beneath my helmet, shoving the memories down. Drowning her every time she surfaces just to survive another day without her.
Forget her forget her forget her…
My shoulders shake as tears soak the padding inside my helmet. I feel so goddamn sick I could pass out on the bike. If she hates me, she’s alive. If she forgets me, she’s free. I hope to fucking god Micah listened to me. I can’t have them fucking around.
The bike screams as I push it harder, and my heart pounds alongside it. Every mile puts more distance between me and the version of myself who believed in futures. In love. In endings that didn’t involve bodies bleeding out on concrete floors or my veins ripped to shreds.
I lean forward, gripping the handlebars tightly. The city thins out, buildings giving way to dark stretches of road. The air smells like rain, oil, and cold metal. My tears finally slow, leaving me exhausted and numb. I keep riding anyway, because I’m not ready to go back to a hotel that has a woman in it that isn’ther. I’m foolish to say that I’m losing when I’ve already fucking lost.
The hotel room is chaos the second I walk in. Something shatters against the far wall—glass exploding, skittering across marble. Adriana flinches hard, arms wrapped around herself, shoulders caved inward like she’s bracing for impact.
Nolan is pacing like a caged animal, shouting wild, incoherent words as he kicks over a chair. His face is red, and his veins are bulging on his neck.
I don’t even think. I set my helmet down on the console with a dullthud. And then I cross the room and slam Nolan into the wall. The impact rattles the abstract painting near his head. His breath punches out of him in a sharp grunt. My forearm pins his throat, just enough pressure to make a point. My arms are still speckled with blood, and it’s now rubbing along his skin.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snarl. The room goes dead silent. Adriana gasps. I’ve never laid my hands on him like this before.
Nolan’s eyes go wide. “You—” he chokes. “Get yourfuckinghands off me.”
I lean in, close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath. “You looked like you were about to hit her.”
“You don’t touch me,” he hisses.“Ever.”
For a split second, I consider finishing it. Crushing his throat until the sound of his grating fucking voice stops forever. Like the wild animal finally deciding to maul its owner. But I reluctantly release him and step back.
Nolan straightens slowly, adjusting his jacket with shaking hands. His pride is bruised worse than his body. He glares at me like he’s recalculating everything he thought he owned.
Adriana doesn’t move. She just stares at the floor.
“Someone is inside my system,” Nolan snaps finally, turning away. “Accessing my database. And it's not sloppy or random. It’s a targeted fucking attack.”
My blood turns to ice, and I set my hand on the kitchen island to keep from tilting with the room.Rook.
My mind races instantly. Oh no. They didn’t give up.
Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.
I force my face to remain blank. “When?” I ask, voice steady despite the warnings screaming in my head.
“Tonight,” Nolan says sharply. “Some little jealous prick is probably pissed off that I’m working with Alexei.”
Adriana finally looks up, eyes wide and terrified. “What does that mean?”
Nolan laughs, sharp and humorless. “It means that someone is trying to access everything. Financials. Records. Files. Probably to use it against me somehow. I have someone working on combating it.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides. If Rook is digging…they could figure it out. And then go after my friends. I swallow hard, already feeling the walls closing in.
The invitation comes early the next morning. Dinner tonight at Alexei’s. Nolan’s been pacing our suite since sunrise, phone glued to his ear, barking at people whose names I don’t know and don’t care to learn. Every few minutes, he drags a hand through his hair and mutters something aboutconnectionsandoverlapandexposure.