Celia stood by the window, staring out at the bustling city below. The sun had risen, casting an eerie calm over New York, but inside, her heart raced with dread. She had spent the last hour convincing herself that this meeting with Ezra wasn't a mistake. The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she couldn't deny the knot of fear that tightened in her stomach. What if he's telling the truth?
The idea of meeting him again filled her with equal parts anger and anxiety. She hadn't seen Ezra in months—months where she had been picking up the pieces of her shattered life while he had continued on as if nothing had happened. And now, he wanted to play the role of the hero, swooping in at the last minute? It didn't add up. But his words haunted her: "There's a price on your head."
Celia couldn't afford to take that lightly. Especially not with the twins.
She glanced down at her phone, the time ticking closer to the meeting he had insisted on. Her fingers hovered over the keypad. Should she tell Lana she was going through with it? Lana had begged her to reconsider, to come up with a plan, but Celia knew Ezra wouldn't give her that time. She couldn't let her fear paralyze her—this wasn't just about her anymore.
Grabbing her jacket, she slipped out of the apartment, her nerves on edge. The cool air outside hit her like a slap to the face, waking her up, sharpening her instincts. Every step she took felt like a countdown, her pulse quickening with each passing second.
The park on 7th Avenue was busy enough for her to feel some sense of security. People were scattered about—joggers, dog walkers, and couples enjoying their morning. But the tension under her skin didn't ease. She kept scanning the area, looking for Ezra, wondering if he was already watching her.
As she approached the meeting point, a bench near a tall oak tree, she spotted him.
Ezra stood with his back to her, his tall, broad frame unmistakable even from a distance. He was dressed in a tailored black coat, his dark hair catching the light. Everything about him screamed power and control, a stark contrast to the man who had once held her heart. Now, all she saw was the man who had shattered it.
Celia took a deep breath, steeling herself as she walked up to him. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to run the other way, but she pushed through the fear. She couldn't afford to back down now.
"Ezra," she called out, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.
He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip. For a brief moment, the world around them seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them standing in the park. The tension between them was palpable—charged with everything unsaid.
"Celia." His voice was calm, but there was something darker lurking beneath the surface.
She crossed her arms, trying to maintain a distance both physically and emotionally. "I'm here. What do you want?"
Ezra's gaze softened for a fleeting second as he took in her appearance. He hadn't seen her since the divorce, and the weight of those months hung between them. His eyes flickered down to her stomach, where the barely noticeable swell of her pregnancy was now visible under her coat.
"You're carrying them," he said, his voice low, more of a statement than a question.
Celia tensed. She hadn't wanted to discuss the twins with him—not like this, not ever. They were her secret, her last piece of control over a life that had spiraled out of control. But Ezra's tone wasn't angry or accusatory. If anything, it was something close to wonder. But she couldn't let herself be softened by that.
"Why do you care, Ezra?" Celia snapped, her walls rising again. "You never cared about me when it mattered."
Ezra's jaw clenched, but he didn't rise to the bait. "This isn't about what happened between us. It's about what's happening now."
He gestured toward the bench, but Celia shook her head, refusing to sit. She wouldn't let herself be lulled into a false sense of security. She couldn't forget who he was—the man who had believed her best friend's lies, who had discarded her without a second thought.
"I'm not staying long. Just tell me why you think I'm in danger," she said, cutting straight to the point.
Ezra exhaled, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "Celia, listen to me. My family is involved in things—things that you were never supposed to be a part of. But when you married me, you became a target."
Celia frowned, her confusion evident. "A target? I don't understand. I've been out of your life for months. What does this have to do with me now?"
"There's a power struggle happening within the organization," Ezra explained, his tone growing more urgent. "People are vying for control, and they're willing to use whatever leverage they can find. That includes you. My enemies know you were once close to me, and they believe you might still have influence over me."
Celia's heart pounded as she absorbed his words. This was the world she had tried to escape—the dark, dangerous underbelly of Ezra's life that she had always suspected but never fully understood. Now, she was being pulled back in, despite her desperate attempts to stay far away.
"So what?" Celia shot back, her voice shaking. "You think I'm just some pawn in your twisted power game?"
Ezra's eyes darkened. "I don't see you as a pawn, Celia. I never did. But they do."
She took a step back, her head spinning. This was too much, too fast. She had been trying to build a new life, to move on from the wreckage of their marriage, and now she was being dragged back into the chaos she had barely survived the first time.
"I'm leaving," Celia said, her voice firm as she turned to go.
But before she could take another step, Ezra reached out, grabbing her arm gently but firmly. "Celia, wait."
She froze, the touch of his hand sending a jolt of electricity through her. She hated how her body still reacted to him, how his presence could still make her heart race. But she couldn't afford to get pulled back into his orbit. Not again.
"I'm not asking you to trust me," Ezra said, his voice low, his grip tightening slightly as if he feared she might disappear. "But you need to know that they won't stop. They'll come after you, and they'll come after the twins."
Celia felt the air leave her lungs. The twins. The thought of them being in danger sent a wave of panic crashing over her.
Ezra's gaze softened as he saw the fear in her eyes. "I can protect you, Celia. I can keep you safe, but you need to let me help."
Celia yanked her arm free from his grasp, taking several steps back. "I don't need your protection. I don't need anything from you, Ezra."
His face tightened, frustration flashing in his eyes. "You're being stubborn. This isn't just about you anymore. Think about the twins."
"I am thinking about them!" Celia shot back, her voice breaking. "And that's why I need to stay away from you. Your world is dangerous, Ezra. It destroyed us. I can't—" She paused, her chest heaving as tears welled up in her eyes. "I can't let it destroy them too."
Ezra opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, a sharp crack echoed through the air.
The sound of a gunshot.
Celia's blood ran cold as chaos erupted around them. People screamed, ducking for cover as the unmistakable sound of more gunfire ripped through the peaceful morning. Celia's heart pounded in her chest as she instinctively dropped to the ground, her mind racing.
Ezra was by her side in an instant, his body shielding hers as bullets whizzed past them, embedding themselves in the tree and bench where they had been standing moments before.
"Stay down!" Ezra growled, his voice filled with urgency as he pulled her closer to the ground.
Celia's breath came in shallow gasps as panic surged through her. She could hear the gunmen in the distance, shouting orders, their footsteps growing closer. She was frozen, her mind struggling to process what was happening.
Ezra's hand moved to his waist, and Celia's eyes widened as he pulled out a sleek black pistol from beneath his coat. Her heart slammed in her chest—this was the world she had fought so hard to leave behind. The violence. The danger. And now it was back, threatening to consume her once again.
Without another word, Ezra crouched low and fired off several shots in the direction of the attackers, his movements swift and calculated. He was no stranger to this chaos—this was his life.
"Stay here," Ezra ordered, his voice tight as he glanced down at her. "Don't move."
Before she could protest, he disappeared into the chaos, gun in hand, moving with the deadly precision of someone who had done this many times before.
Celia's heart raced as she lay on the cold ground, her entire body trembling. She could still hear the gunfire, the screams of the people who had been caught in the crossfire. Her mind screamed at her to run, to get as far away from this nightmare as possible, but her legs felt like lead, frozen in place by fear. Her pulse throbbed in her ears as the sounds of violence continued to close in around her.
She wanted to run, to flee, but the weight of Ezra's words kept her pinned: "They won't stop. They'll come after you, and they'll come after the twins."
The twins. Celia instinctively placed a protective hand over her stomach, her thoughts racing as the chaos unfolded around her. She couldn't afford to be paralyzed by fear—not with so much at stake. She needed to survive. For them.
Pushing herself to her knees, Celia glanced around desperately, trying to make sense of the mayhem. Ezra had vanished into the fray, leaving her alone. Her body screamed at her to run, but every direction felt equally dangerous. Her breath came in shallow, frantic gasps. She had to think, to move, to find safety—but where?
Before she could make a decision, a hand suddenly clamped down on her shoulder. She yelped in panic, spinning around and ready to fight, but the familiar grip stopped her.
It was Ezra.
"Get up, now!" he ordered, his face hardened, his eyes scanning the surroundings for more threats. He yanked her to her feet, and without another word, they began running. The sound of gunfire followed them as they darted between trees and dodged panicked people, weaving through the chaos in the park.
Ezra's grip on her arm was firm, unyielding, as he dragged her away from the open paths and toward a cluster of trees at the far edge of the park. Celia's legs felt like jelly, her heart racing in her chest as she struggled to keep up. Her mind was a blur of terror and confusion. She didn't know if the people chasing them were after Ezra, or after her.
"Ezra," she gasped between breaths, trying to make sense of it all, "who are they? Why are they shooting at us?"
He didn't answer immediately. His focus remained on keeping them moving, guiding her through a small, hidden path that led toward the park's exit. The sound of gunfire faded slightly as they put more distance between themselves and the attackers, but the threat still loomed large.
"They're after me," he finally said through gritted teeth, his voice tight with frustration. "But now that they've seen you with me, they'll be after you too. We need to get out of here. Now."
Celia's chest tightened at his words. She had known there was danger, but the reality of it—gunmen shooting at her in broad daylight—was something she hadn't been prepared for. She glanced up at Ezra, her pulse racing with a mixture of fear and fury. He had dragged her into this nightmare, and now her life—and her children's lives—were hanging by a thread because of it.
The park's exit loomed ahead, and Ezra slowed as they approached the street. His eyes darted around, assessing the situation with the sharp focus of someone who had been trained for this. He guided Celia toward a sleek black car parked on the curb—a car that had clearly been waiting for them.
"Get in," Ezra ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Celia hesitated, her mind racing. She didn't want to trust him, didn't want to be under his control again, but what choice did she have? The attackers were still out there, and Ezra seemed to be the only one who could get her out of this alive.
Without another word, she slid into the passenger seat, her heart still pounding in her chest. Ezra jumped into the driver's seat, and the car roared to life. Tires screeched as he sped away from the park, weaving through traffic with practiced ease.
For a few moments, the only sound in the car was the hum of the engine and Celia's ragged breathing. Her mind spun with questions, but none of them felt safe to ask right now.
Ezra's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his face a mask of cold determination. He drove in silence, his eyes flicking between the road and the rearview mirror, checking for any signs that they were being followed.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. "I didn't expect them to come after you so soon."
Celia turned to him, her voice laced with frustration and fear. "What did you expect, Ezra? You dragged me back into this world. I was supposed to be done with you. And now I'm being shot at because of your enemies?"
He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "I didn't want this for you, Celia. I was trying to protect you by staying away."
"By staying away?" Celia scoffed, the anger bubbling up inside her. "You betrayed me, Ezra! You let her destroy everything between us. You made me think I was worthless, and now you're trying to act like the hero?"
Ezra's jaw clenched, but he didn't respond immediately. His eyes flicked back to the road, his silence heavy with tension.
Celia's voice broke as she continued. "I don't care about your mafia wars or your power struggles. I care about my children. And if you think for one second that I'm going to let you put them in danger, then you're out of your mind."
Ezra's grip tightened on the wheel, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe, or regret. "I won't let anything happen to you or the twins. I swear it."
"How can I believe anything you say?" Celia's voice was hoarse now, the weight of everything crashing down on her. She looked out the window, watching the city blur by, feeling like she was trapped in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.
Ezra didn't answer. He kept driving, his face hard and unreadable.
After several tense minutes, they finally pulled into the underground garage of an upscale high-rise building. The car came to a stop, and Ezra turned off the engine, the silence in the car almost deafening.
Celia stared straight ahead, her hands trembling as she tried to calm herself. She was in survival mode now, her mind racing with thoughts of escape. She couldn't trust Ezra. She couldn't rely on him to keep her safe, not after everything that had happened between them.
"We're going to stay here for a while," Ezra said, breaking the silence. "This is one of my safe houses. No one knows about it."
Celia's head snapped toward him. "I'm not staying with you."
"It's the safest place right now," Ezra insisted, his tone firm. "You can't go back to your apartment. They'll be looking for you."
"I don't care. I'm not staying with you, Ezra," Celia repeated, her voice stronger now, laced with determination. She couldn't let herself be pulled back into his world. Not again. Not after everything she had been through to escape it.
Ezra stared at her for a long moment, his eyes dark with frustration. "I know you don't want to be here, but you don't have a choice. They're coming for you, and they won't stop. Not until they get what they want."
"And what do they want?" Celia asked, her voice shaking.
Ezra's face hardened. "Me."
Celia's stomach twisted with fear. She didn't want to be a pawn in whatever dangerous game Ezra was playing, but she was already caught in the middle.
"You're going to be safe here," Ezra said, his voice softening slightly. "I promise."
But Celia didn't trust promises anymore. She didn't trust him. All she knew was that she needed to survive—for her, and for the twins. And if that meant staying here, even for a little while, then she would. But only until she could figure out a way to escape.