I snort. “I am.”
“Sit.”
And I do.
He crouches in front of me, the gun still dangling loosely in his hand. Using his free hand, Safra reaches out, thumb brushing the blood at my jaw. The touch is soft like a lover's caress. “They got you good,” he says in a low and dangerous tone. “I should fucking kill him.”
I meet his gaze and narrow my eyes. “A bit dramatic. You don’t own me,” I murmur, the memories of Ezra’s words haunting me, now more than ever.
His lips twitch, but not into a smile.
“You keep saying that,” he murmurs, leaning until his breath ghosts my skin. “But every time I’m near… I prove you wrong.” With that, he straightens, holsters the gun behind his blazer, and looks toward the door. “I gotta go do something, wait for me, yeah?”
I nod, because knowing Safra, he won’t drop it, and who am I kidding, I want to. Safra smiles before walking out without another word, leaving the air heavy with adrenaline and something that feels too close to possession. While I sit here, pulse still racing and throat raw, staring at the door he just closed—wondering if I should be grateful, he showed up or terrified that he always does.
Is this what love is?
Am I in love with Thiago Safra?
Chapter Twenty- Five
Thiago
Adrenaline has flooded my bloodstream, and all my sore muscles and aching wounds become background noise to the rage screaming inside me. The crowd celebrates around me, chanting for more violence, urging me to grow closer, my hand clenched into a fist—all I can picture is slamming it down on his lying face. The warehouse hums like a live wire, music pulsing through the air, as my eyes roam through the sea of people who grind and push against each other. All mindless ants repeating the same vicious cycle, so utterly unaware that even this is controlled by Velarium. Nothing is free in the world, not even basic entertainment.
I stop.
Sucking in breath as I rake my fingers through my waves, feeling the tension settle deeper into my body. From the corner of my eye, I spot Ezra. My feet move on their own, drawing me closer to the source of my current problems. He’s talking to someone in the shadows, as if he could hide from me… his best friend? I scoff, knowing he has been… All this time, I've beenworking on trying to find our way out of this while he’s sinking deeper, dragging us along with him. I step in between them, and Ezra’s eyes move slowly over the length of me and meet my gaze. All the asshole does is lazily grin.
“We need to talk,” I say through gritted teeth, my tone harsh and clipped.
Ezra nonchalantly looks over my shoulder; the coldness in his posture reminds me of Peter. Something so unrecognizable to me. I don’t even catch the other guy as he turns to leave. Ezra slowly shifts towards me—a knot forms at my ribs.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Zayden?” I ask. My voice is rough, like it’s been dragged through gravel, trying to mask the pain it causes me to doubt him. “Why?”
Ezra’s jaw flexes, and a flicker of hesitation flashes across his face before he waves a hand dismissively. “You’re bleeding all over this, T… when he’s not yours to keep.”
I laugh, bitter and short. “I’m bleeding all over this… How about June? Remember her, the girl we grew up with, or do you not care?
He steps closer, ignoring my words. “You think you’re saving him? Saving Nico?” he scoffs, his indignation slaps me in the face with each word. “Yourself? Thiago, the only thing you’re doing is dragging everyone into the same fucking fire. You’re already burning and can't even see that.”
His words hang in the air like smoke—thick enough to choke on. I can’t stand the sight of him. The calm arrogance, the way he talks like he’s already written my ending, much like he’s accepted his.
Maybe that’s what I missed… I’ve been fighting for so long that I didn’t realize he’s surrendered to all of this… If that’s the case, then there’s no hope for a better future.
I shove past him, the lights flickering overhead. My pulse hammers along my temples. I need air. I need distance before Ido something I can’t take back, especially when he looks at me as if he’s waiting to see my next step. I clasp my hand over his shoulder, causing him to flinch, but he recovers quickly.
Ezra’s voice is low when he grabs the back of my neck, bringing our faces closer. “You accepted the deal and Peter… Act like it. You’re a Safra. Not one of them,” he murmurs, the smell of whiskey and cigar thick on his breath. I look into his hardened gaze, and I smile. Pressing my forehead against him, accepting our fate for what it is.
“You’re right,” I murmur, moving my hand away from his shoulder and onto the back of his neck. “But one thing is non-negotiable.” I pull him closer until our breaths mix, until he feels the truth vibrating off my bones. “Zayden is mine.”
Ezra's jaw ticks.
A flicker of anger flashes in his eyes before he shuts it behind that dead calm he’s perfected. He doesn’t push me away. We remain in a stalemate. He simply exhales slowly, like he’s already decided how this ends for both of us. But who is he to determine that? I release him with a playful charm, using my natural carefree demeanor to pull down his defenses, evaporating the tension between us.
“Lead the way, brother, and I’ll follow.”
He studies me for a moment, taking a sip of his drink. His eyes never leave me as he tries to determine whether to believe me or not.