I stared at the glowing screen, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Chloe. I hadn't expected her to call, especially not at this hour. My thumb trembled slightly as I swiped the green icon and brought the phone to my ear.
"Chloe?" I whispered, my voice sounding more like a plea than a greeting.
"You're outside, aren't you?" Her voice was steady, but there was an underlying fatigue that made my chest tighten.
I looked up at the fourteenth floor, catching the slight movement of a curtain. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"I wasn't sleeping, Asher. It's hard to sleep when the air feels like it's vibrating with tension," she replied. A long silence followed, filled only by the crackle of the San Francisco wind against my windshield. "I saw the Mercedes from the balcony. You've been sitting there for twenty minutes. After what happened at the hospital... why are you here?"
"I needed to breathe air that didn't smell like sulfur and blood," I confessed, leaning my head back against the leather headrest. For the first time in my life, the truth felt easier than a lie. "And I needed to know that you and the boy were safe."
"We are safe, Asher. My security has the perimeter locked down. You don't need to be our shadow."
"I know you don't need me, Chloe," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "I saw your men. They're good. Professional. It... it surprised me."
"Did it?" She let out a soft, bitter huff. "You still think of me as the girl who hid in your library, don't you? The girl who stayed silent while you decided her fate. That woman died five years ago, Asher. The woman who replaced her knows exactly how to protect what is hers."
The reminder of the past hit me harder than the bullet that had shattered the ICU glass. I closed my eyes, the image of her crying in my bed years ago flashing through my mind.
"I'm realizing that," I muttered. "I'm realizing I never actually knew you at all. I was too busy looking at what I wanted you to be."
"And what was that?" she challenged.
"Mine," I said, the word coming out as a raw growl.
"But you treated me like a possession, and possessions don't have souls, Asher."
"I was wrong," I said. There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. I had never apologized to her—not properly. The Mafia King didn't apologize. People apologized to him. But as I sat in the dark, watching the heavy security guards she had hired, I realized the King was wearing a crown of thorns.
"Asher… I'm glad you did," she said, her voice surprisingly cold. "You made me realize what I was capable of. If I hadn't overheard your conversation with Marcus that night, I wouldn't have become what I am today."
The guilt twisted in my gut. "I was wrong, Chloe. And I'm sorry."
I could hardly believe the words coming out of my mouth. Twice in one night. I had never lowered my head to anyone, yet here I was, bleeding out emotionally to a woman who had every right to leave me in the dirt.
Her voice softened, just a fraction. "Why did you really come here tonight? I have already sent someone to check up on Marcus... Is he doing okay?"
"Yeah. He's stable according to the report I got. Thank you," I replied, a small sense of relief washing over me that she still cared for my brother. "But the breach was deep. I lost Kael and Elias... I will send people to repair the damage caused at the hospital."
"I'm sorry about your men," she said, and I knew she meant it. Even after everything, she couldn't switch off her doctor's heart. "Go home, Asher. You're exhausted, and you're bleeding from a scratch on your forehead. I can see it from here."
I reached up, my fingers touching a small cut I hadn't even noticed. She was watching me. Even after all the hate, she was still looking.
"I know you have your men on the ground," I said, my voice turning solemn. "But my men—Section Four—will be in the shadows. You won't see them, and they won't interfere. But if the 'Ghost' comes for you, they will turn this street into a graveyard before a single hair on your head is touched."
"I don't want your protection, Asher."
"It's not for you," I lied, though we both knew better. "It's for my heir. Goodnight, Chloe."
I hung up before she could argue, my heart heavy with a mixture of hope and agony. I shifted the car into gear, but as my headlights swept the street, I saw it—a black van with tinted windows parked two blocks down, its lights off. It hadn't been there when I arrived.
My blood turned to ice.
*********