Page 47 of Celestial Combat

The entry hallway of Francesca’s apartment still pulsed with the echo of bass-heavy music, muffled and distant, like the heartbeat of the party we’d just escaped. The walls were lacquered obsidian, polished so clean I could see the faintest reflection of my frown as I waited, heels tapping against the marble floor like a ticking clock.

I turned the corner just as I saw him walking toward the private elevators at the end of the corridor where Natalia was waiting for him.

I quickened my pace, whisper yelling. “Trevor.”

He paused, one hand already reaching into his coat pocket, like he hadn’t expected to be followed.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He arched a brow. “Leaving?”

I stopped a few steps away from him, arms crossed. The dim light cut shadows across his face, and it struck me how tired he looked.

“I saw the way you looked at Natalia.”

A flicker. Barely there. But I caught it – the smallest tightening in his jaw.

“She’s not your next plaything, Trevor.”

“Mywhat?”

“I mean it. Leave her alone,amai.”

His eyes darkened – not angry, not exactly – but something like insult. Pride wounded. He stepped closer, slowly, until I could see the faint line between his brows.

“I’m not playing with her,” he said. “We’re working together on that job.”

“That’s not what it looked like and you know it.”

He shook his head once, like he couldn’t believe we were having this conversation. “Fine. I won’t touch your precious little friend.”

It was the way he said it – not cruel, but cold. Like I’d reduced him to something small. Like he was trying not to say something he’d regret. The muscle in his jaw worked once, then stilled.

I watched him carefully. His reaction was sharper than it should’ve been. Defensive. Not guilty, exactly. But…

“Youlikelike her,” I said softly.

He didn’t answer. Just gave a tight, humorless smile and turned away, heading down the hallway without another word.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair.

This was dangerous territory.

Zane didn’t see me as that broken girl in a hospital bed. He saw the fighter I had become.

And maybe that was what I had really come looking for.

You came here for a reason, little killer. You came here looking for me.

Ihadcome looking for him.

Or maybe I had come looking for something ofhis…

The glow of the monitor reflected in my eyes as I scrolled through the database, fingers flying across the keyboard, seamlessly moving through layers of security meant to keep people likemeout. I might not have wanted to follow in my family’s footsteps, but I was just as good atcoding and hacking as any of them. I would’ve argued evenbetter.

I had been at it for almost an hour, filtering through records, blurry security footage, mugshots, surveillance data – until I foundhim.

A snake neck tattoo.