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“I never told you about that night,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. “About Giovanni Costa.”

Olivia’s sharp intake of breath cuts through the silence. She knows the significance of that name.

We move back inside, claiming our usual corner. The empty room feels safer somehow, more intimate. The words spill out—the sound of footsteps in my house, the terror of Leo getting hurt, the cold certainty that I could die, and how Zeke was there to make sure that didn’t happen. I explain the entire situation. About why I can’t involve my department, the need for no police involvement. I don’t leave out any details.

“Jesus Christ,” Lydia breathes, reaching for my hand. Her fingers are warm and steady against my cold ones.

“But you survived,” Olivia says. “Zeke saved you.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “And now someone’s threatening me again. Us. All of us.” I pull out my phone, showing them the message. “This isn’t just about me anymore. Seb got shot. Leo saw—” My voice cracks. “He saw so much blood.”

“Now I understand why Seb asked me about my connections. He said I could help, and I didn’t believe him,” Olivia says, leaning forward. Her eyes are sharp with determination. “I still have connections in New York. People who owe me favors. Let me make some calls, see what I can find out.”

“We’ll take shifts staying with Leo,” Lydia adds. “He shouldn’t be alone, and you need backup.”

Naomi, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “I know what it’s like, living in fear. But you’re not alone anymore. None of us are.”

Looking at their determined faces, I feel something shift inside me. The fear is still there, but it’s not as overwhelming. These women understand—really understand—what it means to fight back from the edge of darkness.

Chapter 20

Blood Ties

Ezekiel

Isit beside Seb’s bedside, watching him sleep. After waking up earlier, he proved the doctor right. He’ll make a full recovery, but the guilt weighs heavily on my mind. My reckless actions have also put Eve and Leo in harm’s way, and I can’t bear the thought of losing them.

As I gaze down at my bandaged arm, the throbbing pain is a constant reminder of how close I came to disaster. Both Seb and I could have lost our lives in the ambush. The cost of my vigilante activities is becoming too high. I’m putting the people I care about most at risk.

Eve’s face flashes in my mind, her green eyes filled with a mixture of fear and resolve. She’s struggling to reconcile her role as a cop with the reality of my criminal activities. My feelings for her have only grown stronger since our marriage. The thought of her walking away, of her choosing to leave me, cuts me deeper than any knife ever could.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the Joker card that was in Seb’s pocket the night he was shot. He always carries one with him. My eyes focus on the blood stain, twisting it between my fingers as I try to make sense of the tangled web I’ve woven.

I never meant for any of this to happen. All I’ve ever wanted was to protect those I love, to shield them from the darkness consuming my life. But now, my need to safeguard Eve and Leo has put them directly in the line of fire.

There’s a soft knock at the door, and Eli pops his head in. “The doc is here to check on Seb.”

I nod.

“How’s our patient doing?” Dr. Martinez asks as he enters the room, his medical bag in hand.

“See for yourself.” I gesture to Seb, who stirs at the sound of our voices.

Seb’s eyes flutter open, focusing first on me, then on the doctor. “Hey,” he croaks, his voice gritty from sleep.

Dr. Martinez moves to check Seb’s vitals, his experienced hands gentle but efficient. “Blood pressure is good, temperature normal.” He carefully peels back the bandage on Seb’s shoulder, examining the wound site. “The incision is healing nicely. No signs of infection.”

“When can I get out of here?” Seb asks, attempting to push himself up with his good arm.

I press him back down with a firm hand. “Easy there, brother.”

“Actually,” Dr. Martinez says, replacing the bandage, “I think we can move you back to your penthouse in a couple of days. The wound is healing well, and as long as you follow my instructions for rest and rehabilitation, you’ll make a full recovery.”

Relief floods through me. It’s the first good news I’ve had in days. Seb catches my eye and gives me a weak smile.

“But,” Dr. Martinez adds, fixing Seb with a stern look, “you’ll need to take it easy. No strenuous activity for at least three weeks. And you’ll need someone to help you with daily tasks until your shoulder heals completely.”

“Is that so?” Seb’s voice drips with mock innocence. “Does that mean I get to have a sexy nurse?”