Michael sat alone in his office, the city's night skyline a blurred canvas of lights through the glass wall behind him. The note from the mystery 'friend' lay open on his desk, its ominous message still gnawing at him.
"You think it's over?
The real storm's just begun."
He should have felt weary. Frustrated. Ready to let someone else clean up the mess for once. But he didn't.
Because a part of him — the dark, relentless part — lived for this.
What unsettled him was Hazel.
She wasn't supposed to be a part of this world. Not the blood, the power plays, or the quiet wars fought in back rooms. He'd tried to push her away for that exact reason.
And failed.
Michael's phone buzzed.
Unknown Number. No caller ID.
He let it ring twice before answering.
"Graze."
A gravelly voice answered. "Didn't expect you to be breathing after last night."
Michael recognized it instantly. Leo Crane. An old associate turned ghost. Someone even Liam Crowe had feared.
"I guess you'll have to get used to disappointment," Michael said coolly.
Leo chuckled darkly. "This isn't over, Michael. You think Crowe acted alone? He was just the distraction."
Michael's hand clenched on the desk. "What do you want?"
A beat of silence.
"I want to see how far you'll go to protect her."
The call disconnected.
Michael's pulse thundered. He stood abruptly, sending his chair skidding back.
Hazel appeared in the doorway, one of his shirts hanging loose on her frame, a curious look on her face. "Who was that?"
Michael hesitated.
Hazel crossed her arms, the defiance in her stance as natural as breathing now. "Don't lie to me, Michael."
He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "An old ghost. Name's Leo Crane. Someone worse than Crowe."
Hazel's stomach knotted. "And now he's interested in me."
Michael crossed the room, cupping her face in his hands. "Listen to me. I promised I wouldn't lose you. I meant it."
She softened slightly, leaning into his touch. "Michael… you don't have to carry this alone."
"I've carried worse," he murmured.
Hazel frowned, searching his eyes. "Tell me."
He hesitated again — then gave in.
"When I was twenty-three, I took over Graze Industries after my father's 'accident.' It wasn't an accident, Hazel. It was a hit. Organized. Covered up. And Leo Crane… was the one who made it happen."
Hazel's breath caught. "You've been living with this… this whole time?"
"I hunted him for years. Nearly destroyed myself in the process. And when I finally had him cornered, he disappeared. Until now."
Hazel's heart ached. She reached up, threading her fingers through his. "And you were gonna deal with this alone?"
"I've always dealt with it alone."
"Well, tough," she whispered, stepping closer. "Because you married a stubborn, nosy woman who fights dirty and doesn't scare easy."
Michael chuckled, the sound low and rough. "I noticed."
She smiled, then grew serious. "We're doing this together, Michael. No more shutting me out."
His throat tightened.
"I don't deserve you."
Hazel smirked. "Maybe not. But you've got me anyway."
He kissed her then — a deep, desperate kiss that spoke of old wounds and new vows.
When they pulled apart, Hazel grinned up at him.
"So, where do we start?"
Michael's expression turned sharp, calculating. "We start by making Leo Crane wish he'd stayed dead."
Hazel's grin widened. "Now you're speaking my language."
They moved to the desk, Hazel sliding onto the chair as Michael began pulling files, maps, and old case records.
Connor entered with two coffees, raising a brow at the sight. "Should I be worried you two look like you're planning a war?"
Hazel winked. "We are."
Connor set the coffees down. "Good. Because I just got intel. Leo Crane's back in the city. And he's not alone."
Michael's gaze darkened. "Then let's remind him who runs this town."
Hazel clinked her coffee cup against his. "To war."
And somewhere in the city, under the cover of night, Leo Crane smiled to himself.
The real storm had begun.....