Footsteps pound down the stairs.
D goes still.
"It's done," his right-hand man says, breathless. "Called off."
The mark.
Called off.
Fuck. So he was right. A slow smile pulls at his mouth—sharp, dangerous.
Then it vanishes. No. Not enough. He has to be sure. He has to get to her.
###
I go through the motions, blending from one room to another, just waiting for Mr. Silence to leave. At five, Jimmy tells me that Jason is settling the bill. I trail Mr. Silence outside as he heads toward his sleek, black Aston Martin. I didn't know he drove.
Desperate to get his attention, I block his path on the street. "Wait... I hacked Alisa's phone and found these bank statements. They prove she lied about needing money two weeks ago. There's text evidence of her lies repeated to different customers as well."
I thrust the printed documents toward him, pointing to the incriminating date. Without looking at the paper, his eyes flash with rage for a brief moment before he attempts to sidestep me, but I block him once more.
"I'll introduce you to my tall, model-like Russian girlfriend. She's genuine and authentic in her relationships. Have you already chosen to love Alisa?" I ask.
His eyes burn with rage now. "What do you care?"
"I don't want to see you hurt or sad. I don't want you to love someone who's only using you," I say, noticing only the boiling anger in his eyes as he walks away.
"And because..." I rush to stand in front of him, mere inches away, locking my gaze with his surprised eyes. "Because I love you. Whenever you're near... I feel happy. Safe. Secure. Empowered. It doesn't matter what kind of relationship we have... I just want to be with you. I'm saying this not as a confession of my feelings for you... but to show you that I know what it's like to love you. And I can see that she doesn't love you. I think if you stay with her and continue to love her, she'll break your heart. I don't want that for you."
As I softly trace my fingers along his cheek, I whisper, "I'll find someone for you to love, okay? Can you let her go? Do you need more proof? I can hack her computer too."
He blinks, his breathing becoming short and uneven as his eyes become watery.
###
This… is how you react… after hearing me confess my love to another woman?
Mohamad stops.
He knows how this should go. She should demand answers. Demand a title. Make him explain himself. Call him a liar. A cheater. Punish him for choosing someone else.
That's what love is. Isn't it? Possession. Exclusivity. Him. He wanted that. Expected it. Prepared for it.
But this? This is worse. No anger. No jealousy. No claim.
He turns to leave—then he doesn't. Slowly, he turns back. His gaze lands on her. On the papers. On her face—calm. Open. Unafraid. Like nothing she just said should destroy him.
This woman. This impossible, infuriating woman.
Does he mean nothing to her?
"Find someone for you to love?" The words echo in his head. A hollow laugh rises—dies in his throat. She loves him—and lets him go. Offers him to someone else.
His jaw tightens. That's not love. That's—madness. Or worse. Freedom.
His chest constricts. Because some part of him—understands it. And hates that he does.
He wants to laugh. He wants to drag her into him and demand she take it back. He wants her jealous. Possessive. Breaking. For him. That's what love is.
Isn't it?
He wants her to need him the way he—
No.
He cuts the thought off.bHe wants too much. Far too much. It tears through him, shredding the control he's spent years building.
His fingers twitch. One step. That's all it would take. One step—and she'd be his. Completely. Exclusively. The way it should be. The only way that makes sense.
Danger. He's the danger. He can't. If he takes that step now--He won't let her go. Ever.
And his path—blood, power, his father—will swallow her whole.
There's no room for her in it. No—that's a lie. There is.
And that's exactly why she can't stay. Because the moment she steps into his world— she becomes a target.nA weakness. A reason.
He can't afford to have her.
But this need—it doesn't care what he can afford.
For a moment—just one—his eyes soften.
Crack.
Almost—break.