Page 20

Every time I close my eyes, it all comes rushing back in sharp, jagged pieces. Ken’s face is always first. I see it so vividly—down to the smallest details. The sweat on his brow, the way his mouth twitches, the flash of shock in his eyes as the bullet tears through him.

Then come the others. My men. Falling one by one.

It’s too real. The deafening crack of gunfire, the gut-wrenching screams, the dull, sickening thuds of bodies hitting the ground. My ears ring with it even now.

I try to move in the memory, scream, and stop it. But I can’t. I’m frozen, paralyzed by the chaos and carnage. My legs refuse to obey, my voice is locked in my throat.

And then, like the fucking coward I am, I turn and run. I sprint to my car, leaving my men behind to face their slaughter alone.

I wake up drenched in sweat, gasping for air as if I’d been drowning. The sound of my ragged breathing echoes in the empty bedroom. My tongue throbs, and the sharp, metallic tang of blood fills my mouth. I’ve bitten it again.

With the number of times this nightmare has replayed, it’s a miracle there’s anything left of my tongue at all.

I roll onto my side, staring at the shadows stretching across the walls. The sun is already setting.

I drag a hand over my face, trying to steady myself. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s trying to break free from my chest. I force a deep breath. Then another.

The room is dark, the faint scent of leather and wood polish grounding me, pulling me back to the present. I’m not at the docks. I’m here, in my room. Safe.

My eyes flick to the clock on the nightstand.6:02 AM.

The wedding is in a few hours.

The thought nearly makes me laugh, but the sound that escapes is bitter and hollow. This isn’t a wedding. Not really. It’s a business deal wrapped in white satin and vows.

I push the sheets aside and get up, moving mechanically around the room. My sweat-drenched shirt clings to me, and the cold air bites at my skin. Each step toward the bathroom sends a chill down my spine.

I flip the light switch, and the harsh fluorescent glow floods the room, illuminating the dark shadows etched beneath my eyes. I lean over the sink, splashing cold water on my face, the icy sting jolting me fully awake.

When I finally meet my reflection, disgust tightens my chest. The man staring back is a stranger, worn and hollow.

Aria’s voice cuts through my mind like a blade.

And I’m sure in the face of real danger, you scram and hide behind those armed men who follow you around.

Her words replay, sharp and relentless. For a moment, I let self-loathing sink its claws into me. I feel it all—pity, regret, anger, even fear. It’s a bitter cocktail, and I drink it down.

But only for a moment.

When I’ve had enough, I gather every shred of emotion and shove it behind the red door in my mind—the place where useless feelings go to die.

There’s no time for this. I have a wedding to attend.

I step back into the room, letting the fluorescent lights buzz quietly in my absence. After freshening up, I head to the wardrobe, where my suit awaits.

The black hand-stitched jacket with intricate gold embroidery along the collar gleams faintly in the dim light. Nothing ostentatious—it’s subtle, understated. The kind of detail only the sharpest eye would notice.

Piece by piece, I assemble myself. Crisp white shirt. Silk tie. Polished shoes. When the jacket buttons slide into place, I glance at my reflection once more.

The man staring back at me now is unrecognizable—cold, controlled, unyielding. Exactly who he needs to be.

I step into the hallway, and the mansion greets me with silence. A suffocating, unnatural quiet. It feels hollow without the men who were here just days ago.

The men who fought beside me.

The men who gave me advice, shared stories, and even managed to make me laugh. The closest thing to family someone like me could ever hope for.

A flicker of something stirs behind the red door in my mind. Grief? It doesn’t matter. I shove it back into the void, locking it down like I’ve done so many times before.