The house was silent.
Too silent.
The kind of silence that only comes after death—or right before it.
Kyler was healing, but barely. Stitches down his side. Bruised ribs. Haunted eyes.
I stayed by his side.
Because the war outside could wait.
But the war inside us?
That was already here.
He touched my hand, slowly.
"I should've protected you better," he whispered.
I shook my head. "You gave me the power to protect myself. That's more than anyone ever has."
"But I brought this into your life."
"You are my life now."
He looked at me then, really looked.
And I saw it in his eyes:
Not the mafia boss.
Not the killer.
Just the boy beneath the blood.
The one who never believed he deserved love.
But still craved it like oxygen.
"You changed me, Ash," he said.
"No," I whispered. "You just finally became who you really are."
We spent the night in each other's arms.
No words.
Just skin.
Just warmth.
Just breathing—together.
Because we didn't know if we'd survive tomorrow.
But we had tonight.
By morning, I was ready.
I wore black.
Not because I was mourning.
But because I was going to war.
We had a plan.
A trap.
Dimitri's last known location was a private club in the city.
He'd be there. We were sure.
And I was the bait.
Before I left, Kyler pulled me close.
"If anything happens—"
"Nothing will."
"If it does—"
"I love you," I said. "That's all that matters."
He kissed me like it was the last kiss of our lives.
Maybe it was.
But I didn't look back.
Because I wasn't walking away.
I was walking into the fire.