Page 15 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost (Nightfall Syndicate #1)

thirteen

Alina

I walk into the dim sum palace, my heart still racing from our narrow escape. The restaurant envelops us in a cacophony of sounds and smells, packed wall-to-wall with diners.

Ceramic plates clatter against each other, punctuated by bursts of laughter and rapid-fire Cantonese.

Servers navigate the narrow spaces between tables with practiced precision, pushing metal carts loaded with bamboo steamers.

The aroma of steamed dumplings and fragrant tea mingles with the sharp tang of vinegar.

Ghost's hand on my lower back guides me through the crowded space, weaving between packed tables where families huddle over shared dishes and businessmen toast with tiny cups. His touch makes my heart thump wildly, it's just the adrenaline. Right ?

"Back booth," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

I nod, trying to appear casual as we weave between tables. It's subtle, but I can feel the tension radiating off him.

We slide into a booth tucked away in the back corner. Ghost positions himself next to me, his broad shoulders effectively shielding me from view.

I realize he's placed himself with a clear line of sight to both the front door and the kitchen entrance.

Smart. Tactical.

A waiter approaches, notepad in hand. "What can I get for you?"

Ghost's posture relaxes slightly, but his hand remains close to his side—where I suspect he's concealing a weapon.

"Tea for now," his voice is calm and measured. "We're still deciding on food."

I nod, plastering on what I hope is a convincing smile. "Yes, just tea please."

The waiter eyes us for a moment, and I wonder if he can sense the tension crackling between us. But he simply nods and walks away.

Ghost shifts slightly, his thigh pressing against mine in the cramped booth. The contact sends a jolt through me, and my body instantly registers how close we are.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice low.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "Yeah, I think so. That was... intense."

A smirk flickers across his face. "Welcome to my world, little hellcat. "

I narrow my eyes at him. "I have a name, you know. And I'm handling myself just fine."

His smirk deepens as he leans slightly closer. "Are you? Because from where I'm sitting, you'd be begging for mercy without me."

His voice drops lower, eyes flickering to my lips. "And I bet you'd beg so pretty."

Heat rushes to my face, the double meaning unmistakable. "You wish."

Ghost's eyes darken slightly, but there's a hint of appreciation in them. "Careful what you wish for, Alina."

I clear my throat, forcing myself to focus. "So what's the plan now? We can't exactly hide out in a dim sum restaurant forever."

Ghost's eyes scan the room as he speaks. "We wait. Let things calm down outside. My team will regroup and contact us when it's safe to move."

Our fingers connect as he grabs for a napkin, sending sparks through my body and heat rushing to my face.

Our eyes meet for a brief moment, and I see something flicker in those deep blue depths—concern, maybe even a hint of... hunger?

Stop it. This is not the time to get distracted by a pair of pretty eyes, considering how deadly their owner might be.

I force myself to look away, my gaze settling on the bustling restaurant around us. But I can't shake the awareness of Ghost's solid presence beside me, or the way my skin tingles where we touch.

The waiter sets down our steaming cups and teapot and I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic, grateful for something to concentrate on, but Ghost's eyes never stop moving .

A barely perceptible twitch of his jaw catches my attention. His hand moves subtly to his ear, he's receiving information through his comm device. My heart rate picks up as I remember the danger we're still in.

Ghost leans in close, his lips barely moving as he whispers, "Nitro says they're closing in. Two minutes, maybe less."

I nod, trying to keep my face neutral.

Don't panic. Act normal.

I take a sip of tea, wincing as the scalding liquid burns my tongue.

Ghost's knee bumps mine under the table—once, twice. A deliberate signal. I remember the brief operational protocol he explained during our rush to leave the safehouse. Two taps mean 'be ready to move.'

"So, tell me about your favorite dim sum dish." I keep my voice light.

Ghost's eyebrow quirks slightly, but he plays along. "Har gow. Shrimp dumplings. You?"

"I'm partial to char siu bao myself." My eyes dart to the entrance, then back to Ghost. His slight nod tells me he approves of my subtle scan.

His fingers drum a quick pattern on the table. Three taps. Danger imminent.

I force a laugh, as if he's just told a joke. "You know, I've always wondered about the history of dim sum. It's fascinating how—"

Ghost's hand suddenly grips my arm, cutting me off. His eyes lock onto something over my shoulder. I resist the urge to turn and look.

"Alina, when I say 'now,' I need you to– "

A crash from the kitchen interrupts him. Shouts erupt, followed by the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Ghost's grip tightens. "Now!"

He yanks me out of the booth and into a tiny utility closet, slamming the door behind us. My heart pounds as I'm pressed against his solid chest in the cramped space. The smell of cleaning supplies mingles with his woodsy scent.

"Don't. Move." His whisper tickles my ear.

I freeze, aware of every point where our bodies touch. His muscles are coiled tight, ready to spring into action.

"I'm not an amateur," I whisper back, unable to help myself. "I know how to hide."

His hand slides from the small of my back to grip my hip, fingers digging in just enough to assert control.

"Could've fooled me. Now be quiet before you get us both killed." His breath fans hot against my neck. "Unless you want me to find other ways to keep that mouth occupied."

The authority in his tone travels through me like an electric current—not because I'm scared, but because it triggers something riskier in my core. My teeth press together hard as conflicting emotions collide inside me.

His take-charge attitude pisses me off, yet my body betrays me with a hot flush of desire I didn't invite and definitely don't welcome. Different emotions battle inside me, making my head spin and my thoughts blur.

His arm is braced against the wall beside my head, his face mere inches from mine. In the dim light filtering through the crack around the door, I can make out the sharp line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes as he listens for any sign of danger .

My fingers twitch, wanting to trace the contours of his face. At the same time, I have an overwhelming urge to punch him.

This is ridiculous. I should be terrified, not... whatever this feeling is. Get it together! He's dangerous. You don't even know his real name.

But another part of me whispers: He's saved your life multiple times now.

Ghost shifts slightly, and his thigh brushes against mine. A jolt of awareness shoots through me. I bite my lip to stifle a gasp, and his eyes snap to mine.

Time seems to slow as we stare at each other in the darkness. The tension between us crackles like a live wire. Ghost leans in, almost imperceptibly. My breath catches in my throat.

Is he going to...?

My body moves on its own, pulling me closer to him as if he has some hidden gravity. I let my eyelids drop shut, my insides twisting with excitement and hunger.

Just as his breath whispers against my lips, a soft crackling sound reaches my ears. It's coming from the earpiece, barely audible in the stillness of the utility closet where we're hidden.

Before I can process what's happening, Ghost's fingers wrap around my wrist. He yanks the door open and pulls me out of the closet.

"More are coming," he says gruffly, not meeting my eyes. "We're going to have to fight through, or we're sitting ducks."

The bright light of the restaurant is jarring after the darkness. I blink, trying to orient myself. My skin tingles where Ghost touched me, and I can't quite catch my breath.

I steal a glimpse at Ghost's impassive face.

What just happened in there?

My heart's still racing from what happened in the closet when chaos erupts. Three men lunge at us with murderous intent.

Around us, diners finally register the danger. A woman screams, the high-pitched sound cutting through the restaurant's cheerful buzz. Chairs scrape against tile as people scramble to their feet. A child wails somewhere to my left.

Adrenaline floods my system. Without thinking, I drop into a fighting stance. Thank God Carlos drilled those self-defense moves into me and Jenny.

One attacker comes at me swinging. I dodge the first punch and land a solid kick to his knee. He grunts in pain but keeps coming. Behind him, a table overturns, sending dim sum clattering across the floor. People push toward the exits, creating a stampede of panicked bodies.

Ghost is a blur of lethal motion, taking on the other two with ruthless efficiency. The sound of fists connecting with flesh fills the air beneath the cacophony of screams and breaking dishes.

An elderly man falls in the crush of fleeing diners. A server drops an entire tray of food, adding to the chaos.

My opponent gets in a lucky shot to my ribs. Pain explodes through me, but I push through it. I slam my elbow into his stomach, doubling him over. A woman rushes past us, nearly knocking me off balance as she clutches her child to her chest.

A gunshot cracks the air. One of Ghost's attackers crumples. The other hesitates for a split second. It's all he needs.

Another gunshot cracks through the air. I flinch involuntarily as Ghost takes down the second attacker with ruthless precision. The man crumples to the ground, lifeless, a bullet hole in his forehead.

The restaurant, already in panic, descends into complete mayhem. The remaining diners drop to the floor, some crawling under tables. Others rush blindly for exits, trampling over each other in their desperation to escape.