Chapter 26

• The city never truly slept.
• Even in the dead hours before dawn, its veins pulsed—dim headlights, restless footsteps, the occasional siren in the distance. But Kieran barely registered the world around him.
• All he could feel was the burn of Isandro’s kiss still on his lips.
• They moved through back alleys in tense silence, their breath clouding the air, but the space between them crackled alive, dangerous, unspoken.
• When they finally reached the safe house an old tenement building hidden deep in the industrial district Kieran barely made it three steps inside before Isandro spoke.
• “We need to talk.”
• Kieran froze. His hand hovered over the door as he closed it softly behind them.
• “About the kiss?” he said flatly, not daring to meet Isandro’s eyes.
• “About everything,” Isandro murmured.
• Kieran exhaled sharply, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “This isn’t the time.”
• But Isandro stepped closer. “Then when? After Voss kills us both? After you lose more people you care about because you’re too stubborn to let anyone close?”
• The words hit harder than any bullet.
• Kieran’s eyes flashed. “You think this is easy for me?” His voice was low, dangerous. “I built my entire life on knowing who the enemy was. Black and white. Blood and loyalty. And then you”
• His voice broke. The wall cracked.
• “You ruin everything,” he whispered.
• Isandro’s face softened. “I know.”
• In the quiet, their breaths came faster something hot and furious unraveling between them.
• Kieran’s fingers twitched at his side. Isandro’s jaw clenched.
• They crashed together again without warning.
• It wasn’t soft this time. It was bruising teeth, tongue, fire. Kieran shoved him back against the wall, hands fisting in Isandro’s jacket. Isandro groaned against his mouth, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.
• There was no hatred here. Only heat. Only need.
• When they finally pulled apart, Kieran’s breath was ragged. His forehead rested against Isandro’s.
• “This is insane,” he rasped.
• “I know,” Isandro whispered.
• Neither moved.
• But before they could spiral further, a sharp knock split the air.
• Both men tensed instantly guns drawn, instincts sharp.
• Kieran moved to the peephole and froze.
• Standing outside, pale under the flickering streetlight, was a ghost.
• “Celeste,” Kieran breathed.
• The door wrenched open before he could think.
• She looked older. Harder. Her eyes the same eyes he’d buried years ago were rimmed red but steady.
• “Hello, brother,” she said softly.
• Kieran’s heart stopped.
• And with that single word, everything they thought they knew about the game they were playing shattered.
• The shock locked Kieran’s limbs in place.
• Celeste.
• His sister. His ghost. The girl he thought was dead for six years. The weight of the impossible pressed against his lungs, squeezing the air from his chest.
• “Impossible,” he rasped.
• But she was there, flesh, blood, eyes as sharp as he remembered, though colder. Harder.
• Isandro moved beside him, gun still half-raised, but Kieran lifted a hand sharply, silencing any protest.
• “Let her in,” Kieran murmured, voice brittle.
• Celeste stepped inside slowly, the dim light catching in the silver blade tucked visibly into her belt. She looked between them her eyes pausing for a fraction of a second too long on Kieran’s bruised lips, on the tension crackling between him and Isandro and her mouth twisted into the faintest smirk.
• “Well,” she murmured, “I can see I’m interrupting something.”
• Kieran bristled. “Where the hell have you been?”
• Her eyes flashed. “Alive,” she bit out. “Barely. After the fire, after the massacre after you left me for dead, Kieran I made my own way.”
• The words sliced deep. Kieran shook his head, rage, grief, disbelief warring inside him. “We buried you.”
• She laughed a sharp, hollow sound. “You buried ashes. Not me.”
• Isandro shifted, narrowing his eyes. “Why are you here?”
• Celeste's gaze sharpened. “Because you’re both walking into a slaughter. Voss doesn’t just want power he wants to burn both your families to the ground. He’s using both of you as pawns in a much bigger war.”
• Kieran’s jaw clenched. “Why tell us now?”
• Celeste’s expression flickered. For the first time, her bravado cracked. “Because…I owe you,” she admitted softly. “Despite everything. And because…I don’t want you dead.”
• Her eyes those same pale grey eyes as his burned with something close to desperation.
• But Kieran couldn’t move past the betrayal. The lies. The years.
• “Why didn’t you come back?” he demanded, voice raw. “Why let me believe you were dead?”
• Celeste’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Because by the time I could…I wasn’t the same person anymore,” she whispered. “And neither were you.”
• The silence stretched sharp between them.
• Isandro stepped forward carefully. “What does Voss have planned?”
• Celeste inhaled slowly, steadying her breath. “A meeting. Tomorrow night. A false truce between your two families,” she said quietly. “But it’s a trap. There’s already an execution squad waiting. Neither of you are meant to leave alive.”
• Kieran’s blood chilled.
• But something in her voice… something in the tight set of her jaw… made the hairs on his neck rise.
• “You’re working with him,” he said quietly. The realization dropped like ice in his gut.
• Celeste’s face hardened. She didn’t deny it.
• “I’m not here to save you,” she said. “I’m here to tell you that you have one chance to survive. Walk away. Tonight. Disappear.”
• Kieran’s fists clenched. “We don’t run.”
• Isandro’s eyes didn’t leave Celeste’s face. “And what about you?” he asked softly. “Are you too far gone to care if your brother dies?”
• For a heartbeat, something flickered something painfully human in her expression.
• And then it was gone.
• “I warned you,” she murmured. “That’s all I came to do.”
• She turned toward the door.
• “Celeste!” Kieran barked.
• But she was already gone, vanishing into the darkness like the ghost she’d become.
• The door clicked shut softly behind her.
• And Kieran exhaled, the weight of the night crashing over him, his heart bruised from too many wars.
• Isandro stepped closer, voice low. “We can’t trust her.”
• Kieran’s lips tightened. “I know.”
• But when Isandro reached out brushing his knuckles along Kieran’s jaw, the same place he’d kissed just hours before the weight of betrayal eased, just slightly.
• “We’ll face it together,” Isandro murmured.
• And for the first time, Kieran let himself believe it.
• The night stretched long after Celeste’s departure.
• Kieran sat motionless by the window, cigarette smoke curling from his fingertips as he watched the sliver of moon disappear behind thick clouds. He barely noticed when Isandro dropped onto the worn sofa beside him, a bottle of whiskey in hand.
• “You’re still shaking,” Isandro murmured.
• Kieran flexed his hands. “I’m fine.”
• “Liar.”
• The word hung between them not an accusation, just a truth. Kieran didn’t argue.
• Instead, he took the bottle when Isandro offered it, swallowing down the burn without flinching.
• “What if she’s right?” Isandro asked quietly. “What if tomorrow’s a setup?”
• Kieran’s eyes didn’t leave the window. “Then we don’t walk into it unprepared.”
• Isandro arched a brow. “We’re outnumbered. Outgunned. And let’s not forget you’ve got a sister working both sides.”
• A muscle ticked in Kieran’s jaw. He drained another mouthful before setting the bottle down hard.
• “She’s not my sister anymore,” he said flatly.
• The steel in his voice left no room for doubt.
• Isandro exhaled softly. “Even so. We need a plan.”
• The silence that followed was heavy, both men lost in their thoughts. Somewhere beyond the cracked glass, the city throbbed with life, oblivious to the war about to ignite.
• Finally, Kieran spoke. “We hit them first.”
• Isandro blinked. “You want to preempt the meet?”
• “We find where Voss is staging his men. We dismantle the trap before it springs.”
• Isandro’s lips quirked. “And here I thought you’d suggest running.”
• Kieran gave a dark laugh. “I don’t run. Not for anyone.”
• Isandro studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “I’ll make calls. I know someone who can trace Voss’s logistics.”
• Their eyes met something fierce and unspoken burning there.
• And without thinking, Kieran reached for him.
• This kiss wasn’t frantic like before. It was slower aching meant to burn the edges off the fear curling in both their chests. Isandro responded instantly, his hands cupping Kieran’s jaw, his lips soft but urgent.
• The need between them hummed, sharp and alive.
• But when they pulled apart, breathless, the weight of what lay ahead sank in once more.
• “We could die tomorrow,” Kieran said quietly.
• Isandro’s thumb traced his cheekbone. “Then we make tonight count.”
• The warehouse was nearly deserted when they arrived hours later no sign of ambush, no hidden guards.
• Too quiet.
• Kieran’s skin prickled with unease as they crept through the shadows. Isandro moved silently beside him, gun raised, every step measured.
• “We’re too late,” Isandro murmured.
• And then the first shot rang out.
• Kieran dove as bullets tore through the rusted metal walls. Shadows erupted from every corner armed men, faces hidden, the glint of cold steel under floodlights.
• It was a massacre waiting to happen.
• Kieran fired back, dropping two before Isandro yanked him behind cover. “It’s a trap,” Isandro growled. “We have to move!”
• More shots. The air smelled of gunpowder and blood.
• And then through the chaos Kieran saw her.
• Celeste.
• She stood across the battlefield, untouched, her expression unreadable as men fell around her.
• Their eyes locked.
• For a heartbeat, everything else disappeared.
• Kieran raised his gun.
• But before he could fire, Isandro yanked him sideways just as an explosion ripped through the ground where he’d stood.
• The blast sent them both sprawling.
• Kieran’s ears rang. Smoke blurred his vision.
• But when the haze cleared Celeste was gone.
• They stumbled into the safe house hours later, battered and bruised but alive.
• Barely.
• Kieran collapsed onto the floor, blood dripping from a gash along his temple. Isandro dropped beside him, breathing hard, a dark stain spreading down his side.
• “We almost died,” Isandro muttered hoarsely.
• Kieran laughed a harsh, broken sound. “We’re still here.”
• But the laughter died quickly. The reality weighed heavier than exhaustion.
• “We have to finish this,” Kieran rasped. His hands shook as he pressed a cloth to Isandro’s wound. “We end Voss. We end the lies.”
• Isandro caught his wrist gently. “And after?”
• Kieran met his eyes. “If we survive?”
• He exhaled. “We’ll figure it out.”
• Their fingers laced together bloody, bruised, alive.
• At that moment, amid the wreckage, Kieran let the smallest sliver of hope settle in his chest.
• Tomorrow, they would go to war.
• But tonight they had each other.