Vera's POV

"What are you doing here, Elias?" I asked, my voice flat, forcing calm into my tone even though my jaw was tight. I didn't look away from the door Claire had just walked out of. Not yet.

He blinked, caught off guard. "Just thought I'd grab a bite. I didn't expect to run into you both."

My eyes shifted to him now, slow and deliberate. "Is that right?"

He gave a tight smile. "Didn't know you were busy."

Gabriel let out a low chuckle behind me, still too close. I didn't move. "Elias," I said, nodding toward the hallway. "Get out."

He didn't argue. He gave a little half-wave and slipped out like a dog who knew the leash around his neck was about to tighten. Smart.

I turned slowly, facing Gabriel.

"You're pushing it," I told him.

He leaned casually against the counter, like he didn't just ruin something fragile I barely had a grip on. "You used to like that."

I stepped forward, no amusement in my eyes. "That was before."

He raised an eyebrow. "Before what?"

"Before I started giving a damn who saw."

The smirk dropped off his face.

I didn't wait for him to recover. I walked past him, not bothering to hide the disgust in my stare. But under that, under all of it, was something worse.

Guilt.

Claire's eyes. The way they dimmed when she saw me with his hands on my waist.

She didn't say a word, but I felt it. I felt everything I didn't want to feel.

And the worst part? I hadn't stopped him fast enough. Not for me. But for her.

***

Antonio was leaning against the edge of the desk, sorting through shipment papers, when I walked in. He looked up, casual, unaware of the storm walking through the door.

"Vera," he greeted, straightening. "We got confirmation from—"

"Where was Claire?" I cut him off, my voice like ice dragged over steel.

He blinked, confused for a second. "In her room. She hasn't left since this morning."

"No," I snapped. I stepped forward, and the room shrank between us. "She wasn't in her room. She was with Elias."

The name hit him like a punch. Antonio's face dropped. "Wait—what?"

"She was with him," I repeated, voice sharp and low. "The same rat you should have been keeping an eye on. The one who sold us to Leo. And you—you let him near her."

Antonio's mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. Then he exhaled. "I didn't know. I swear, Vera, I didn't see her leave."

"That's the problem, Antonio," I seethed, pacing like a blade too sharp to stay still. "You didn't see. You weren't watching. I trusted you to keep her out of this, and you let her walk right into it."

He looked stricken. "I thought she was resting. I wouldn't have let her out of sight if I knew—"

I slammed my palm onto the desk, making the papers scatter. "Don't think. That's how people die in this world. Because someone thinks they know what's going on."

He stayed silent, jaw tight, gaze lowered. "I'm sorry," he said, the words quiet but solid. "It won't happen again. I'll keep my eyes on her from now on."

I stared at him for a long second. The apology didn't settle the fire in my chest. It didn't undo what I saw—the image of Claire standing next to Elias like she didn't even know the knife he was holding behind his back.

I turned on my heel, fury still boiling under my skin. "See that you do," I muttered, already walking out. "Or I won't be cleaning up the next mess."

The door slammed behind me. I wasn't sure if I was more angry at Antonio—

Or at myself. Because the more I tried to keep Claire out of this world...

The more I kept dragging her deeper into it.

I didn't know why I was doing this. The anger hadn't even cooled in my chest, and still, my feet were carrying me down the hall, past the cracked walls and dim lights, toward her door. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was reckless. But I needed her to hear it from me. Not through some half-baked whisper from the crew. Not through whatever story she was already spinning in that sharp little head of hers.

Gabriel and I—there was nothing. Not like that. There never was. But the way she looked at us, back at the docks... the silence, the storm behind her eyes—I knew what she thought. And I hated that I cared enough to want to unmake that look.

I didn't knock. I pushed the door open.

Empty.

The room was still. Her jacket tossed over the chair. A glass of water half-full on the nightstand. No sign of a struggle. No sign of her.

She just... wasn't here.

My jaw tightened.

I stepped inside, scanning for something—anything—that told me where she went. But there was nothing. Just her silence and the sharp echo of my own heartbeat.

Where the hell did she go?

I turned back toward the door, grip tightening around the frame. Antonio had no clue. The crew wasn't watching. Claire, of all people, had walked out.

Without telling me.

A bitter taste hit my tongue, something sharp and stupid. I wasn't angry she left.

I was angry I noticed.

And that was a problem I didn't know how to fix.

Not yet.

Claire's POV

The streets felt colder with Elias walking beside me.

I hadn't meant to leave. Not really. But after what I saw—Vera with Gabriel, the way she looked at him, the way he stood so close—it felt like someone had taken a fist to my chest and forgot to let go. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it meant everything. I didn't know anymore.

"I've got a place," Elias said, his voice low, smooth in a way that made it harder to think clearly. "Just for a while. Until you get your head straight."

I stared ahead, not answering right away. My boots hit the pavement too fast. Too loud. My hands were shoved into my pockets to hide the shake I didn't want him to see. "This is a bad idea," I muttered.

He glanced at me, brows raised. "Why?"

I shot him a look. "Because if Vera finds out you took me somewhere, you'll be missing fingers. Or worse."

Elias smiled like it didn't faze him. "She won't find out."

"You don't know her like I do."

His grin faded just slightly. "You don't owe her anything, Claire. You don't belong in that mess."

I looked away. That was the thing—I didn't know where I belonged. Not in her world. Not in the old one either. Somewhere in between. Floating. Burning. Lost.

We walked in silence for a while, the city dimming around us in patches of orange streetlight. My stomach twisted. I kept telling myself I wasn't running away—I was just... stepping back. Getting space.

"She doesn't own you," Elias said again, softer this time. "You don't have to stay somewhere that doesn't make sense anymore."

I didn't answer. I just kept walking.

Because part of me wanted to believe he was right.

And the other part knew that when Vera found out—

All hell would break loose.

Vera's POV

The warehouse door slammed behind me, the sound sharp and final in the dead air. My boots hit the pavement hard, fast, like I could crush the rising panic if I moved quick enough. I didn't stop. I couldn't. My pulse was pounding in my throat, breath short and sharp as I reached the lot.

Where would she go?

My eyes scanned the empty street. Nothing. No sign of her. No sign of him.

Elias.

That rat had her. He got close. Slithered in. And I let it happen. I let her slip through while I was too busy keeping my crew in line, too busy pretending this thing between us didn't matter.

"Fuck," I hissed, yanking the cover off my bike with a snarl. My hands shook—not from the cold, but from the thought of Elias's hands anywhere near her. Claire didn't know what he was capable of. She thought he was a nuisance. She didn't know the truth.

He played games. He smiled while he lied. And when he struck, it was always fast, always ugly.

I threw my leg over the bike and kicked the engine alive, the roar tearing through the quiet like a scream. My jaw clenched. I took off down the street without a destination, eyes sharp, heart in my throat.

She couldn't have gone far.

She wouldn't go far—not unless he made her.

Not unless he convinced her.

Not unless he—

I gripped the throttle tighter, weaving through cars, red lights blurring past. My mind wouldn't shut up. Every street I passed without seeing her carved something deeper into my chest.

If he hurt her—

If he touched her—

I'd gut him. I'd make sure he didn't just disappear. I'd make him beg for death.

The city passed in flashes of neon and steel. And still, no Claire. Just the echo of her voice in my head. The last time we argued. The look in her eyes.

Goddamn it, Claire.

Where the hell are you?

The wind whipped against my face, cold and sharp, but I barely felt it. My eyes scanned every corner, every alley, every figure on the sidewalk. I knew this part of the city—knew its shortcuts, its blind spots. If he wanted to disappear with her, this was where he'd go.

I cut through a side street, tires skidding over loose gravel as I took the curve too fast. A glimpse of movement caught my eye—just ahead, past a rusted gate and a break in the trees. A trail. One that led behind the old rail lines.

I slammed the brakes.

There.

Two figures.

Claire's hair caught the faint orange glow of a distant streetlamp. She was walking beside him. Elias. His posture cocky, casual, like he didn't have a goddamn care in the world. Like he wasn't walking with someone who didn't belong to him.

My heart slammed once, hard.

She was walking willingly.

He had her close. Talking. Maybe laughing. I couldn't hear them. I didn't need to.

I kicked the bike stand down and was off before the engine stopped growling. My boots hit the pavement like war drums. I moved fast, through the gate, down the gravel slope, onto the trail. My fists were clenched at my sides, the knife already pressing against my thigh under the coat.

They didn't see me yet.

Good.

Because the moment Elias turned around—

He was going to regret ever laying eyes on her.

And Claire?

She was going to learn the hard way—

You don't walk away from me. Not into the arms of someone I already marked for death. Not without paying the price.

Claire's POV

"I called Valeria," the voice came sharp and low behind me, cutting straight through the quiet.

My heart stopped.

"I asked for her advice," she continued, like she wasn't standing ten feet behind me in the dark, like she hadn't just made my lungs freeze solid. "She told me to start by saying sorry. And to try not to put a bullet in someone's head."

I spun around so fast my boots slipped on the gravel. Elias turned with me, tense, his arm brushing mine.

How the hell had she gotten here so fast? I hadn't even heard the sound of her engine. No footsteps. No warning.

Just her voice. Calm. Dangerous. Familiar.

And then she stepped out of the shadows.

Black coat trailing behind her, boots steady, eyes locked on mine like I was the only one she could see. She wasn't armed—at least not visibly. But somehow that made her more terrifying.

And more beautiful.

She took another step forward. Her tone softened. "So here I am."

Another step.

"I'm sorry."

My breath caught.

"I'm sorry that I let Gabriel get close. That I let his hand linger."

Her voice didn't shake, but something behind it did. Not fear—something quieter. Something real.

"I didn't want his hands on me," she said, eyes still on mine. "I only want yours."

My stomach flipped. Hard.

I felt Elias shift beside me, like he suddenly realized he'd walked into a scene that wasn't his. His eyes darted between us, uncomfortable, surprised. I didn't blame him.

Vera was saying all this—right in front of him. Like he didn't matter. Like he wasn't even here.

My fingers curled into the sleeves of my jacket. I couldn't stop staring at her. My brain screamed that she should be furious, livid. That she should've grabbed Elias by the throat and dragged me away.

But she wasn't shouting. She wasn't threatening.

She was standing there, owning the space between us, telling the truth like it was nothing.

And my heart—

It fluttered. Because this was Vera. Apologizing. For me. And nothing had ever made less sense. Or felt more real.

"I don't know what you're doing to me, Claire," Vera said, her voice lower now, rough like it scraped her throat on the way out. "All I know is that I can't lose you. And you had no right to walk away from me after promising you had my back."

She took a step closer, lifting her arm—slow, deliberate. "Come back."

Her voice wasn't commanding. It wasn't angry. It was... soft.

Pleading.

I stared at her, heart pounding in my ears. I didn't know if I was dreaming or losing my mind. Everything about this felt upside down.

My fingers twitched at my side. And then, before I could talk myself out of it, I reached for her.

The moment my hand touched hers, she yanked me forward—hard.

My body slammed into hers, her grip unyielding. Her chest was solid, her muscles locked like stone. It felt like I'd crashed into a wall. My breath caught, the impact jarring and too fast to process.

Then—

The gunshot.

Loud. Final.

I didn't see the gun. I didn't see her reach for it.

All I saw was Elias.

His body jerked. Then crumpled. His knees hit the gravel first, then the rest of him followed, like a puppet with its strings cut.

Vera exhaled slowly, her voice flat, almost casual. "Sorry, sis. I took the first part of your advice and said sorry—but I had to use a bullet for this one."

A scream tore out of me, raw and animal.

I didn't even know it came from me until it echoed back from the trees.

I stared at Elias—his body still, a smear of red trailing down his shirt—and the horror wrapped around my lungs, squeezing, suffocating.

I did this. I got him killed. First Hector. Now Elias.

Everyone who got close to me... everyone who dared to stand between me and her...

She murdered them.

I shoved at her chest, trying to break free, trying to breathe. "Let go of me!" I cried, twisting, struggling, but her arms were iron.

She calmly slid the gun back into its holster, like what she just did meant nothing.

Then her hand grabbed my face—firm, fingers pressing into my cheeks, forcing me to look at her.

"Calm down," she said in a voice that was low and dangerous, like the threat was for me now.

My eyes burned. My chest heaved.

"You're fucking insane!" I shouted, slamming my fists against her chest again and again.

She didn't flinch. She didn't even blink. And that was the worst part. Because I wasn't sure if she could feel anything at all.

"Claire, we need to get the fuck out of here," she snapped, grabbing my wrist and trying to pull me away from Elias's body like it was nothing. Like he hadn't just died in front of me.

I ripped my arm back. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

My voice cracked, raw and shaking. "You killed him. Because we went for a walk? Are you fucking kidding me?"

She turned, her jaw clenched, breath sharp through her nose. Her patience cracked.

She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me once—hard enough to shut me up.

"Shut up!" she barked, her eyes blazing. "He was the rat, Claire. One of Leo's men."

I froze.

"You were walking into your own goddamn death trap, and you didn't even know it. He was sent to kill you."

I stared at her, mouth open, but no words came out.

"Because you decided to be reckless," she growled, voice shaking with rage. "Because you couldn't handle seeing someone else touch me—I had to put a bullet in the only lead I had. Now I have no idea who's coming for you next. And it's your fault."

My entire body went cold.

Elias? The rat?

He wasn't trying to help me? He wasn't being kind? He was just—

My knees nearly gave out.

I looked down at him, at the blood now soaking into the dirt. My stomach twisted. My hands were shaking.

And Vera... she'd saved me?

The words she'd said minutes ago—about Gabriel, about only wanting my hands—they spun in my head now like a cruel trick. A ploy to bring me back. Had any of it been real?

Or just a way to control me?

My mind felt like it was short-circuiting, too much happening at once. I couldn't even tell what was true anymore. I didn't know what I was supposed to feel.

I didn't know what I was supposed to believe.

And the worst part?

Somehow, I still didn't want to let go of her hand.