Celia stood at the window of her apartment, staring out at the city that stretched far below her. The night was calm, but inside her mind, the storm raged on. Gabriel's words from the night before echoed endlessly. Collateral. Debt. Danger. Her heart weighed heavy with the knowledge that her father's mistakes had led her to this life. And Ezra—he had known. He had known the truth and yet still married her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, her emotions swinging between anger and confusion. Could she trust Ezra? Could she trust her own feelings? She had sworn to stay away from him, but now, it seemed impossible. Everywhere she turned, there he was—protecting her, pulling her back into his orbit.
Her phone buzzed. Another message from Ezra.
"I'm coming over. We need to talk."
Her heart lurched, a mix of dread and anticipation swirling in her chest. She should refuse. She should tell him to stay away. But instead, she found herself glued to the spot, waiting for him to arrive.
Minutes later, there was a knock at her door. Her breath caught in her throat as she walked over, her fingers trembling as she reached for the handle.
She opened the door to find Ezra standing there, his dark eyes locked on hers. He looked just as she remembered—commanding, intense, but now with a shadow of something else. Regret, maybe? Or was it fear?
"Celia," he said quietly, his voice softer than she expected.
She stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. They stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them thick and palpable.
Ezra turned to face her, his gaze piercing. "I know what Gabriel told you."
"Do you?" Celia's voice was sharp, cutting through the silence. "Do you know how it feels to find out that your entire life was part of some deal? That I was just a pawn in some sick game?"
Ezra flinched slightly, but he didn't look away. "I never wanted it to be like this, Celia. I thought I could protect you."
"By lying to me? By letting me think—" She stopped, her emotions catching in her throat. "You should have told me the truth from the beginning."
Ezra sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're right. I should have. But at the time, I didn't know how. And then… things changed. You changed me. I didn't expect to feel this way about you, and it scared me."
Celia shook her head, her heart torn between anger and something deeper. "You don't get to play the victim here, Ezra. You used me."
"I didn't use you," Ezra said, his voice low and filled with urgency. "Yes, I married you to settle a debt, but that's not why I stayed. I stayed because I love you, Celia."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of their meaning. Celia's breath caught, her mind reeling. She had longed to hear those words once, back when things were simpler. But now, they felt like a double-edged sword.
"Love?" she whispered, her voice laced with disbelief. "You think love can fix this?"
Ezra stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I know I've made mistakes. I've done things I can't take back. But I will protect you, Celia, no matter what it takes. Ferrara won't stop until he gets what he wants, and I can't let that happen."
"And what is it that Ferrara wants?" Celia asked, her voice shaking. "Me? Or you?"
Ezra's jaw tightened. "Both. But as long as I'm alive, he won't touch you."
Celia felt a pang of fear at the resolve in his voice. She could see it in his eyes—the willingness to sacrifice everything to keep her safe. But she didn't want that. She didn't want to be the reason Ezra risked his life.
"There has to be another way," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Ezra took her hand, his touch gentle but firm. "We'll find a way. Together."
Celia wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust that they could fight this battle side by side. But doubt gnawed at her, reminding her of all the lies and secrets that had already torn them apart.
Before she could respond, her phone buzzed again. She glanced down and froze. It was a message from an unknown number.
"I'm watching you. If you think Ezra can protect you, you're wrong."
Her blood ran cold. She looked up at Ezra, fear tightening in her chest. "It's them," she whispered, showing him the message.
Ezra's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with fury. He grabbed the phone, his fingers tightening around it as if he could crush the threat with sheer force of will.
"Ferrara," he muttered under his breath. "He's getting bold."
Celia's heart raced. "What are we going to do?"
Ezra turned to her, his jaw set in determination. "We fight."
The word hung in the air, a promise of the war to come. Celia swallowed hard, fear and uncertainty twisting in her gut. But beneath it all, a flicker of hope sparked. Maybe—just maybe—they could get through this together.
But even as she clung to that hope, she couldn't shake the feeling that the shadows were closing in. And this time, there might be no escape.
---
Meanwhile, in Ferrara's Headquarters
Vincent Ferrara paced the length of the lavish room, his eyes burning with rage as his men reported their latest failures. The attack on Celia had been thwarted, and Ezra had once again slipped through his grasp.
"I want them both," Ferrara growled, his voice low and menacing. "Celia is the key. Ezra won't let her go, and that's his weakness."
One of his lieutenants stepped forward, his tone cautious. "We tried to take her, but Ezra was ready for us. He's always one step ahead."
Ferrara's lip curled in a snarl. "Then we take away his advantage. Make him desperate. Make him bleed."
The room fell silent as Ferrara's men exchanged uneasy glances. They knew what that meant. The war was about to escalate, and no one—not even Celia—would be safe.
Ferrara turned toward the window, his eyes narrowing as he stared out into the night. "It's time to end this. Ezra De-Luca-Liang has ruled the streets for too long. It's time to remind him who holds the real power."
He turned back to his men, his voice deadly calm. "Prepare for war."