Chapter 27

• The world outside the cracked windows of the safe house was waking. Sunlight streamed in thin beams through the dusty glass, slicing through the lingering darkness like the sharp edge of a knife. Inside, however, everything remained still quiet as the grave.
• Kieran sat in the corner, his back pressed to the wall, his breathing shallow as his thoughts spiraled in vicious circles. He’d lost track of time. The numbness from the chaos the night before hadn’t fully worn off, but his body ached in every place imaginable. His knuckles were scraped, his side bruised, and his heart was somewhere between shattered and ignited.
• Across from him, Isandro stirred on the battered leather couch. The bandage around his side was fresh, the blood that had seeped through already darkening to rust. He made a soft, pained sound as he shifted, eyes fluttering open. Despite everything the ambush, the betrayal, the blood Isandro’s gaze locked on Kieran’s immediately, sharp as ever.
• “You’re still awake,” Isandro rasped, voice rough as gravel.
• Kieran offered a tight smile. “Didn’t feel like sleeping.”
• A small, wry huff left Isandro’s lips. “Yeah. Me neither.”
• Kieran swallowed hard. His throat felt raw from smoke, from yelling, from grief. “I keep seeing her,” he whispered. “Celeste. The way she looked at me when she gave the order to kill us both.”
• Isandro sat up slowly, hissing through his teeth as pain sliced through him. He ignored it. “That’s how Voss operates. He uses people. Warps them. You were never real to her, Kieran. Just a piece to move across the board.”
• The words made sense. His mind could accept them. But his heart that was another matter. Kieran exhaled sharply, scrubbing his hands through his hair. “I thought I was better at seeing through people.”
• “You are,” Isandro murmured softly, leaning forward. “But sometimes the ones closest to us…they’re the ones who blindside us.”
• Their eyes locked. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was heavy with everything unspoken the fear, the weight of survival, the pull that had been simmering between them since that first fateful night.
• Kieran’s voice was barely audible. “I don’t want to lose you.”
• The words slipped free before he could stop them. But he meant them every syllable.
• Isandro’s expression softened. He didn’t hesitate. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet, every movement careful, deliberate, as he crossed the few feet of space between them. He knelt in front of Kieran, wincing slightly as his side protested.
• “Then you won’t,” Isandro murmured, his fingers brushing lightly against Kieran’s cheek. “I won’t let you.”
• Their lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss gentle but consuming. The kind of kiss that stole the breath from Kieran’s lungs and ignited something dangerous in his chest. He melted into it, hands sliding up to clutch the back of Isandro’s neck, his fingers threading through dark hair.
• When they broke apart, both were breathing harder. Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling in the narrow space between them.
• “We’re still alive,” Kieran whispered, as if saying it aloud made it real.
• Isandro gave the faintest of smiles. “Yeah. And I plan on keeping it that way.”
• Kieran laughed softly hoarse, shaky, but genuine. For the first time in what felt like forever, the crushing weight on his chest lifted just enough for air to seep in.
• But the moment shattered with the shrill ring of Kieran’s burner phone.
• He flinched, pulling away as he fumbled for the device. The screen flashed an encrypted number in a line only one person could be calling from.
• Voss.
• Kieran’s blood ran cold. His fingers tightened until his knuckles whitened, but he forced himself to answer.
• “Hello?”
• The voice on the other end was smooth, velvety, sickeningly familiar. “I was disappointed not to see you last night, Kieran.”
• Kieran’s spine went rigid. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “You tried to kill me.”
• A soft chuckle. “I simply corrected a miscalculation.”
• “Cut the games,” Kieran snapped. “What do you want?”
• Voss sighed as though bored. “I want you back where you belong. But since you’ve decided to bite the hand that feeds you, I suppose we’ll have to settle this another way.”
• Kieran’s stomach churned. He could hear the amusement in Voss’s tone the cold indifference. “Where?”
• “The docks,” Voss purred. “Midnight. Alone or with him. It makes no difference. By dawn, this will be over.”
• The line went dead.
• Kieran lowered the phone, exhaling shakily. He didn’t have to explain. Isandro was already standing, jaw tight, eyes dark with understanding.
• “Time’s up,” Isandro said grimly.
• Kieran nodded.
• The hours passed in a blur of movement. Plans were sketched in hushed voices. Weapons checked and loaded. The few loyal allies they had left were contacted, but most were too scared to stand against Voss directly.
• It would be the two of them.
• As the sun sank behind the skyline, casting long shadows across the streets, Kieran stood in front of a cracked mirror, staring at his reflection. He barely recognized the man staring back—eyes hollow, jaw clenched, blood staining the collar of his shirt.
• Isandro appeared behind him, their eyes meeting in the mirror.
• “You ready?” Isandro asked softly.
• Kieran managed a tight nod. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. But yeah.”
• Isandro’s hand settled on his shoulder, grounding him. “We finish this. Together.”
• Kieran turned, searching Isandro’s face for any hint of hesitation. He found none.
• Their fingers brushed briefly just a whisper of contact, but enough.
• “Together,” Kieran echoed.
• The docks were abandoned by the time they arrived. Fog rolled in off the water, thick and cold, shrouding the world in silver and gray. The creak of wood, the lapping of waves, the distant call of a seagull the only sounds.
• Kieran’s heart hammered in his chest as they stepped out of the car, weapons concealed beneath their coats. Every step felt heavier, slower. The weight of inevitability pressed down on his shoulders.
• They didn’t have to wait long.
• Figures emerged from the fog silent, armed, faces obscured. And at the center of them, flanked by Celeste on one side and another enforcer on the other, stood Alaric Voss.
• He looked immaculate as always impeccably dressed, calm, hands clasped behind his back. As though this was nothing more than a social call.
• “Ah,” Voss murmured, his smile thin and cold. “I see you came after all.”
• Kieran’s grip tightened around the gun at his side. “End this.”
• Voss raised an eyebrow. “End it? My dear boy, this has only just begun.”
• The tension crackled through the air like static. Isandro stepped forward, his expression murderous. “You’re done, Voss. Whatever hold you had it’s broken.”
• Voss’s gaze flicked lazily between them. “Brave words,” he drawled. “But you see, I’ve already won. The only question is how much more blood needs to be spilled before you realize it.”
• Kieran’s breath hitched. “I’m not yours.”
• A flicker of something irritation? Disappointment? It crossed Voss’s face. But he recovered quickly. “You could have had everything, Kieran,” he said softly. “Power. Wealth. Control. All of it at your fingertips. And for what? Him?”
• He spat the last word with icy disdain, nodding toward Isandro.
• Kieran’s jaw clenched. His voice came out steady. “Yes.”
• For the briefest second, silence reigned.
• Then, “Very well,” Voss murmured.
• The world exploded.
• Gunfire cracked through the fog, deafening and blinding. Kieran dove sideways, pulling Isandro with him as bullets sliced through the air. The men around Voss fanned out, unleashing hell.
• Kieran’s heart pounded as he returned fire, adrenaline surging. He heard Isandro’s sharp breath, the familiar rhythm of footsteps and shouts as chaos descended.
• The battle for their lives had begun.
• The air reeked of smoke, gunpowder, and salt. Every heartbeat felt like a countdown as Kieran ducked behind a rusted shipping container, breath coming in harsh gasps. Bullets ricocheted off the metal with shrill metallic screams. The distant crash of the ocean echoed beneath the chaos.
• “Left flank!” Isandro shouted, his voice hoarse but steady. He fired twice, dropping one of Voss’s men as Kieran covered him. The man fell with a wet thud, blood pooling against the grimy concrete.
• Kieran’s hands trembled around the grip of his weapon, but he forced his body to move, to act. Survival depended on it. He couldn’t falter now not with Isandro beside him. Not with everything on the line.
• Another blast a deafening boom and the container shuddered. Isandro cursed, grabbing Kieran by the sleeve and yanking him out of the way just as the side of the metal wall blew open.
• “Move!” Isandro growled.
• They sprinted across the open stretch of the dock, gunfire tearing up the ground around their feet. Kieran’s lungs burned. His ears rang. But they kept moving dodging between crates, firing back when they could. The enemy pressed in from all sides, dark shadows in the mist.
• Kieran barely registered the sharp pain in his side where a bullet grazed him. All he could see was Isandro, his fierce expression, the grim determination in his eyes. That was his anchor.
• “Cover me!” Isandro barked, slipping behind a forklift for temporary shelter.
• Kieran didn’t hesitate. He laid down suppressing fire, forcing Voss’s men to scatter. Isandro moved like liquid shadow efficient, lethal taking down two more attackers with precise shots.
• They were winning. Slowly. Barely. But winning.
• Until, a new voice cut through the din. Cold. Female. Familiar.
• “Enough!”
• Kieran froze. He knew that voice.
• Celeste.
• Through the haze of gun smoke, she stepped forward, lowering her gun with icy calm. The remaining men hesitated, obeying her silent command to cease fire.
• For a breathless moment, silence fell. The fog swirled, the stench of death clinging to the air.
• Celeste’s dark eyes locked onto Kieran’s, unreadable. “You should’ve stayed dead,” she murmured.
• Kieran’s heart twisted. “Why?” he demanded, voice raw. “I trusted you.”
• Her expression didn’t waver. “I did what I had to.”
• Isandro stepped up beside Kieran, his weapon still raised. “If you’re here to finish this,” he snarled, “then do it.”
• But Celeste didn’t move. Her gun remained lowered.
• Instead, her eyes flicked briefly almost imperceptibly toward the shadows beyond the dock. Toward a figure waiting in the distance.
• Voss.
• “Listen to me,” Kieran said, his voice lower now, urgent. “You don’t have to do this.”
• For the first time, something faltered in Celeste’s expression. A crack. A tremor of doubt.
• But it was gone in an instant.
• “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
• The click of a hammer being cocked split the air.
• Before she could squeeze the trigger, a single gunshot rang out not from Kieran. Not from Isandro.
• From the shadows.
• Celeste’s body jerked. A red bloom blossomed across her chest. Her eyes widened in shock, disbelief before her knees buckled.
• Kieran’s breath caught. “No!”
• Celeste collapsed in a heap, lifeless eyes staring skyward.
• Kieran’s hands shook as he instinctively took a step forward, but Isandro caught his arm, stopping him.
• “Look,” Isandro breathed, nodding toward the fog.
• Voss stepped into view, lowering his smoking gun. His smile was thin, lifeless.
• “She was a liability,” he said simply.
• The words hit Kieran like ice water. “You… you killed her.”
• Voss shrugged, utterly indifferent. “I kill those who disobey. Family or not.”
• Kieran’s blood boiled. “She was loyal to you.”
• “Loyalty,” Voss murmured, approaching slowly, “is fragile. Much like you.”
• Kieran’s hands clenched into fists. Isandro raised his weapon again, eyes narrowing.
• “We end this,” Isandro growled.
• Voss stopped within twenty feet, hands still at his sides. His dark suit was immaculate, not a hair out of place. He was the picture of civility except for the blood splatter across his cuff.
• “You can try,” Voss said calmly. “But you won’t win.”
• Kieran raised his gun. “Watch me.”
• For one breathless instant, time seemed to slow.
• Then they fired.
• The crack of gunshots exploded through the air as Kieran and Isandro unleashed everything they had. Voss dove sideways with snake like speed, returning fire with chilling precision. The bullets tore through crates, through the mist, ricocheting off steel and splintering wood.
• Kieran rolled behind cover, adrenaline screaming through his veins. He heard Isandro shout ...felt more than saw the spray of bullets barely missing them by inches.
• And then...
• A sharp, searing pain.
• Kieran gasped, falling to one knee as a bullet tore through the flesh of his shoulder. His vision swam. The world tilted.
• “Kieran!” Isandro roared, panic breaking through his usual control.
• Kieran gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright. “I’m fine!”
• But he wasn’t. His fingers felt numb, blood slick against his palm.
• Voss’s footsteps crunched closer. His voice carried, soft and lethal. “It’s over.”
• Isandro bared his teeth. “Not for you.”
• With a guttural cry, Isandro surged forward, firing with terrifying accuracy. Voss ducked, the shot grazing his temple but it was enough.
• The distraction bought Kieran precious seconds. He steadied his weapon with his good arm, breathing ragged.
• One shot.
• One chance.
• He squeezed the trigger.
• The bullet struck Voss square in the chest. The older man staggered, expression morphing into stunned disbelief.
• Another shot this time from Isandro tore through Voss’s side.
• And another.
• Voss collapsed, his knees giving way, crimson staining his pristine suit.
• Kieran’s breath came in broken gasps as he lowered the gun. The world tilted dangerously, the edges of his vision darkening. But he didn’t fall.
• Isandro caught him, one arm locking around his waist. “I’ve got you,” he murmured fiercely. “Stay with me.”
• Kieran blinked hard. His lips twitched in something like a broken smile. “We… we did it.”
• Voss lay motionless, the last breath rattling from his lungs.
• The nightmare was over.
• The dawn broke cold and gold over the docks as sirens wailed in the distance. The remaining enforcers had either fled or surrendered. The blood on the concrete glistened in the pale light.
• Isandro knelt beside Kieran where they sat on the edge of the pier, both of them bruised, bleeding, but alive.
• “Hey,” Isandro murmured softly, brushing Kieran’s hair back from his damp forehead. “We made it.”
• Kieran gave a shaky laugh. “Barely.”
• They leaned into each other battered bodies, scarred hearts, but still breathing.
• “Is it really over?” Kieran whispered.
• Isandro’s arm tightened around him. “It is. I swear.”
• Kieran exhaled, the tension of months slowly unwinding from his frame. He let his head fall against Isandro’s shoulder, eyes drifting shut.
• For the first time in his life, he felt free.
• For the first time, he felt loved.
• Together.
• Always.