Celia's mind raced as the door to the penthouse clicked shut behind her. The soft hum of the air conditioning filled the silence, but it did little to calm her nerves. The sleek, modern furnishings and floor-to-ceiling windows provided a stark contrast to the chaos that had erupted in the park just hours earlier. Despite the lavish surroundings, all Celia could think about was finding a way out.
She turned toward Ezra, who had already shed his coat and was checking his phone, his expression focused and intense. He looked like a man who always had a plan, always in control of everything. But Celia knew better now. She knew the cracks in his armor, the flaws in his judgment—like how he had let her be framed by her own best friend, believing her lies without a second thought.
Her heart pounded with a mix of anger and fear. She had no idea how long she'd be stuck here, but one thing was clear: she couldn't afford to stay. Not with Ezra. Not with the danger he brought into her life. She had to find a way out.
Ezra glanced up, noticing her standing there, still rigid and on edge. "Celia, relax. You're safe here."
"I'm not safe anywhere near you," she shot back, her voice colder than she intended. She crossed her arms, feeling the weight of his presence suffocating her.
Ezra's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he walked over to the window, staring out at the city below. "I didn't bring you here to trap you. I brought you here to protect you."
"Protect me?" Celia laughed bitterly. "You really think I believe that? After everything you've done?"
Ezra turned to face her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What I've done? Celia, I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want you involved in this world. That's why I stayed away."
Celia's anger flared. "You stayed away because you believed every lie that was told to you. You didn't even give me a chance to defend myself."
He didn't deny it. Instead, he looked down, his expression hardening with regret. "I made a mistake."
"A mistake?" Celia's voice cracked, her emotions bubbling to the surface. "You let me walk out of your life without even asking questions, and now you think you can just swoop in and fix everything? It's not that simple, Ezra."
Ezra's gaze softened, but there was still an intensity in his eyes. "I know it's not simple. But I'm trying to make things right. Even if you don't believe me, I'm going to protect you and the twins."
Celia felt a pang of fear at the mention of the twins. She instinctively placed a hand over her stomach, the weight of the situation settling in again. Her anger simmered down, replaced by a raw vulnerability she hated showing in front of him.
"Why now?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why come after me now, after everything?"
Ezra sighed and leaned against the window, his expression darkening. "Because you're not just a part of my past anymore. You're a target, Celia. And as long as you're out there, my enemies will see you as a way to get to me."
Celia's mind raced. She didn't care about Ezra's enemies or the power struggles within his world. She only cared about her safety and the safety of her children. And if staying with Ezra meant being dragged deeper into the life she had fought so hard to escape, she couldn't let that happen.
She needed a way out.
"I can't stay here," she said firmly, stepping toward him. "I won't let you control my life again."
Ezra straightened, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to keep you alive."
"I don't need your help," Celia snapped, her voice rising. "I've been taking care of myself since the day you left me, and I'll keep doing that."
Ezra's frustration was evident, but he didn't argue. Instead, he walked over to a nearby table, pulling out a small black phone and setting it down in front of her. "Fine. You don't want my help? Then here's a way out. Take the phone, call whoever you need to call, and disappear. But know this—once you leave, you're on your own. And I can't protect you."
Celia stared at the phone, her chest tightening. It was a tempting offer—too tempting. But she knew it wasn't that simple. The men who had come after her weren't going to stop. Ezra had made that clear. And even if she ran, even if she tried to disappear, would she ever truly be free of his world?
Ezra's eyes were locked on her, waiting for her decision.
Celia's mind raced, weighing her options. Could she run? Could she leave this penthouse and vanish into the world again? Or would the danger follow her, no matter where she went?
Her hand hovered over the phone, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the cool surface. She had been planning her escape for months, hoping to build a life free from Ezra's shadow. But now, standing here, facing the very real threat that loomed over her, she wasn't sure if running would be enough.
"I don't want your protection," she whispered, more to herself than to Ezra. "But I don't want to be trapped, either."
"You're not trapped," Ezra said quietly, stepping closer to her. "You can leave. I won't stop you. But you need to know what you're walking away from."
Celia's throat tightened. She knew exactly what she was walking away from: the chaos, the violence, the heartbreak. But as much as she wanted to leave, as much as she wanted to be free, the reality of her situation was far more complicated.
Taking a deep breath, she reached for the phone—but then paused, her hand hovering above it. Could she really leave? Could she walk away, knowing that the danger might still follow her?
She turned to Ezra, her voice barely above a whisper. "How do I know they won't come after me, even if I disappear?"
Ezra's expression softened, a flicker of something almost like concern crossing his face. "Because I won't let them. If you leave, I'll handle it. But you have to be smart about it. No more running. You need to stay hidden."
Celia's heart pounded in her chest. She didn't trust Ezra, but she didn't trust anyone else either. Not in his world.
"I'll think about it," she said, stepping away from the table and putting distance between them.
Ezra's jaw clenched, but he nodded. "You have time. Just… don't do anything rash."
The silence between them hung heavy in the air, filled with unspoken tension and the weight of too many memories. Celia turned and headed toward the bedroom without another word, needing space to clear her head.
The moment she closed the door behind her, she let out a shaky breath. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and the constant thrum of anxiety kept her on edge. She needed to think, to plan.
Looking around the room, she spotted a large bay window on the far wall. The view of the city sprawled out before her, glittering in the early evening light. It was beautiful in its way, but all she could think about was how it felt like a cage.
I have to get out of here, she thought, pacing the room. She couldn't let Ezra drag her back into his world. She couldn't let herself be caught in his web again, not after everything she had been through to escape him.
But as much as she wanted to leave, there was something else gnawing at her—a question she couldn't shake.
Why had Ezra come back?
It wasn't just about the danger. There was something more, something Ezra wasn't telling her. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he watched her. There was more to this than just protection, and she needed to find out what it was.
Celia walked over to the window, staring out at the city as she weighed her options. She couldn't trust Ezra, but she couldn't deny that he was right about one thing: the danger wasn't going away.
As she stood there, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts, a sudden knock at the door startled her.
"Celia," Ezra's voice came through the wood, firm yet almost gentle. "There's something we need to talk about. It can't wait."
Celia tensed, her heart racingin her chest. She knew whatever was coming next wouldn't be easy, but she steeled herself, determined to get the answers she needed.
With a deep breath, she walked over to the door and pulled it open.
Ezra stood on the other side, his expression unreadable.
"We need to talk about the twins," he said, his voice low, but the weight of his words hit her like a sledgehammer.
Celia's breath caught in her throat as she stared at him, the realization dawning on her that this wasn't just about danger. This was about control. About their future. About the lives they had both created—whether they liked it or not.
And there was no escaping that.