Celia stared at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes scanning the faint bruises beneath her skin, the remnants of her encounter with the unknown attackers. She dabbed some foundation on her face, trying to cover the marks, but nothing could hide the weariness in her eyes.
It had been three days since the ambush, three days since Ezra had appeared out of the darkness and saved her. Again. She hadn't stopped thinking about that night—the sound of gunfire, the feeling of helplessness, and worst of all, the raw tension between her and Ezra that lingered long after the bullets had stopped flying.
It was almost impossible to process that after all these years, he was still in her life. Despite everything—despite the divorce, despite the betrayal that had torn them apart—Ezra still had this hold on her. And no matter how much she hated to admit it, she still felt the pull.
She shook her head, pushing those thoughts away. She had to focus.
Tonight was the launch of a major charity gala at the hotel where she worked, a massive event that required all hands on deck. She couldn't afford to let her personal life interfere, not when she had a job to do. This event was one of the biggest they'd hosted all year, and everything needed to go off without a hitch. The hotel was expecting high-profile guests, including celebrities, business elites, and political figures. It was the kind of crowd that drew attention.
The kind of crowd that Ezra might blend into seamlessly.
She tried not to think about it as she grabbed her things and left her small apartment, locking the door behind her. The streets were busier than usual for a Friday evening, and the city lights flickered like stars against the inky black sky. As she made her way to the hotel, Celia couldn't shake the eerie feeling that someone was watching her. It had been like this ever since the attack—constant paranoia, as if eyes were always on her, lurking in the shadows.
But she knew that was just a byproduct of the danger Ezra's world brought. She had lived it before, back when they were married. She knew the feeling all too well.
When she reached the hotel, she greeted her coworkers and jumped into her tasks, throwing herself into work in an attempt to keep her mind from wandering. The grand ballroom was already buzzing with activity, the crystal chandeliers casting a golden glow over the elegantly dressed guests who mingled and laughed, champagne flutes in hand.
Celia moved through the crowd, adjusting her earpiece as she coordinated with the other staff members. Everything was going smoothly, and she let herself breathe a little easier. At least here, in the bustling environment of work, she could forget about Ezra, about the looming threat of the Ferraras, and about the gnawing uncertainty that had been eating away at her since that night.
She was just about to step into the kitchen to check on the catering staff when something made her stop in her tracks.
A figure at the far end of the room.
Ezra.
He was standing near the entrance, his tall, imposing figure unmistakable even in the sea of finely dressed guests. He was wearing a perfectly tailored black suit, his hair slicked back, and his sharp jaw set in that familiar, unreadable expression. He looked every bit the powerful mob boss he was, commanding attention without even trying.
But he wasn't alone. Standing beside him, clinging to his arm, was Leila.
Celia's chest tightened as the sight hit her like a punch to the gut. Leila, her former best friend, the woman who had played a part in their downfall, stood there like she belonged at Ezra's side. It was a cruel reminder of how much had changed, how much she had lost.
She quickly turned away before either of them could spot her, retreating into the kitchen where she could catch her breath. She leaned against the counter, her heart racing, trying to calm the emotions that had surged to the surface.
She didn't have time for this. She couldn't let them ruin her night.
But just as she was about to leave the kitchen, she overheard a conversation between two waiters near the back of the room.
"…heard that Valenti's men are working overtime tonight. Rumor has it there's a new threat."
Celia's blood ran cold.
"Yeah, something about the Ferraras stirring up trouble again. Seems like they're after more than just money this time."
Her stomach twisted into knots as the words sunk in. The Ferraras were after more than just money. They were after her.
Suddenly, everything made sense. Ezra's presence at the gala wasn't a coincidence. He was here because the Ferraras were here. They had never stopped hunting her, and Ezra had never stopped watching over her, even after their marriage ended.
The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, she felt dizzy. She needed to get out of here—now.
Celia ducked out of the kitchen and headed toward the back exit of the hotel, her heart racing as she made her way through the maze of service corridors. She couldn't face Ezra, not like this. Not when everything was falling apart again. She just needed space. Time to think.
But as she reached the alley behind the hotel, a group of men blocked her path.
Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized them immediately. Ferrara's men.
"Leaving so soon, sweetheart?" one of them sneered, his voice dripping with malice. He stepped forward, his hand gripping a gun at his waist. "We've been looking for you."
Celia's heart raced as she backed away, her mind scrambling for a way out. She was trapped. There was no one around, and the alley was too narrow for her to run. She had nowhere to go.
Panic surged through her as the men closed in, their expressions predatory. This was it. They were going to take her, just like they had always planned.
But before they could touch her, a dark figure emerged from the shadows, moving with deadly precision.
Ezra.
His movements were swift and ruthless as he took down the first man with a single, brutal punch. The others barely had time to react before Ezra was on them, disarming one and delivering a bone-crunching kick to another. His men appeared out of nowhere, efficiently neutralizing the threat with a level of precision that left no room for error.
In the span of seconds, it was over. The Ferraras' men lay unconscious on the ground, and Ezra stood over them, breathing heavily, his dark eyes scanning the alley for any further threats.
Celia stood frozen, her heart still racing from the encounter, but her mind whirling with questions. Why was he still doing this? Why was he still protecting her?
Ezra turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Are you alright?"
She nodded, unable to find her voice. Her chest was tight, her emotions too tangled to process. She wanted to thank him, but the words stuck in her throat.
"Celia," Ezra said softly, his gaze intense as he stepped closer. "You can't keep running from me."
Something inside her snapped at his words. The frustration, the fear, the confusion—it all boiled to the surface in a sudden, overwhelming wave.
"Why do you care?" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. "You left me! You chose Leila over me! So why do you keep showing up every time I try to move on?"
Ezra's jaw tightened, but he didn't look away. "Because I made a mistake. And I'm not going to let you pay for it."
Celia stared at him, her mind reeling. His words didn't make sense. How could he claim to care about her after everything he had done? After betraying her, after choosing her best friend over her, how could he stand here and act like he still had a right to protect her?
"You don't get to do this," she whispered, shaking her head. "You don't get to be the hero after everything."
Ezra's gaze darkened, but there was something in his expression that softened, a hint of vulnerability that she hadn't seen in years. "I never wanted to hurt you, Celia."
"Then why did you?" Her voice cracked, and she hated how small she sounded, how broken she still felt.
He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. "Because I thought it was the only way to keep you safe."
Celia blinked, stunned by his confession. She had expected him to make excuses, to blame her for their failed marriage, but this…this was something different.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ezra sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and something else—something deeper. "Leila was working with the Ferraras. She betrayed you, Celia. She betrayed us both."
Her heart skipped a beat at his words, the full weight of what he was saying hitting her like a freight train. Leila had been working with the Ferraras? But why? What could she have possibly gained from aligning herself with those monsters?
"I didn't know at first," Ezra continued, his voice low, as if it pained him to admit it. "But when I found out, it was too late. I thought by pushing you away, by divorcing you, I could protect you. I thought if you hated me, you'd stay away from this world. But I was wrong."
Celia's mind spun as she processed his confession. It was too much to take in, too many lies and half-truths unraveling all at once. Le