Chapter 35
RENéE
The sound of the pistol firing echoed through the range, sharp and relentless. Bang. Bang. Bang. Each pull of the trigger was a release, but it wasn’t enough to extinguish the wildfire inside me. My arms held steady; my grip was unyielding like the gun was an extension of my will. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.
It had been years since I’d touched a gun—years spent convincing myself I’d never need it again; I’d never touch it again. Yet here I was, the cold steel in my hands feeling far too familiar as if it had been waiting for me all along. Rage coursed through me, burning and unrelenting, and the pistol became my only refuge.
His voice kept playing in my head. “You’re just another thing for me to destroy.” Those words twisted my anger into something darker, something untamed.
Destroy me? He thought he could tear me down with a line like that? My teeth clenched as the fury inside surged again, white-hot and unstoppable. He’d have to do a hell of a lot more than talk. If he ever realized what I was capable of, he’d be the one running. Not me. Never me.
“That asshole,” I hissed under my breath.
“What’d the target ever do to you?” Hael called out, his smirk practically audible even over the shots.
“Better it than us,” Ezio chimed in, his voice thick with amusement he didn’t bother hiding.
“Man, I feel bad for the guy,” Hael muttered.
Ezio chuckled. “I don’t. This? This is art. I love whatever this is.”
I ignored them and fired off another round. The kick of the gun jarred up my arms, but the ache was satisfying.
I got it—he was hurting. I might not know how deep those wounds went, might not fully understand, but that didn’t give him the right to pull this shit. The arrogance, the sheer gall of trying to push me away like that. Did he honestly think it would work? That I’d just...give up because he thought he didn’t deserve me?
Yeah, right.
He’d come crawling back. Three days, tops. I’d bet cash on it. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier to deal with the anger thrumming through me, buzzing like a live wire. It didn’t stop the urge to slap some sense into him. Hard. I wanted to grab him by the shirt, drag him down to my level, and keep hitting him until he finally got it—until he finally understood. I wasn’t going anywhere. We were stuck with each other, like it or not.
“You’re wasting bullets,” Hael teased. “Maybe you’re mad because your aim’s slipping?”
Ezio snickered. “Careful, brother. She might decide to turn that thing on us next.”
Their laughter grated on my nerves, an itch I couldn’t ignore. I spun around, my expression dark as I leveled the pistol at them. Both of them froze, their amusement evaporating like smoke.
I pulled the trigger.
The bullet tore through the wall just behind them, leaving a jagged hole in the pristine surface. They clung to each other like scared little kids in a haunted house.
“What the hell, Renée?” Hael choked out, his voice pitched higher than usual.
“Not so funny now, is it?” I muttered, lowering the gun.
I didn’t wait for a response. My boots echoed against the floor as I walked past them, the pistol still clenched tightly in my hand.
Then I saw him. Javier, standing there in the doorway, watching me. My heart jumped before I could stop it, but I didn’t slow down. I didn’t even look at him. Just walked right past like he didn’t exist.
Three days? That was generous of me. It hadn’t even been thirteen hours.
JAVIER
What have I done?
The thought tore through me, relentless and savage, until it was all I could hear, all I could feel. My chest hollowed with every breath, each one jagged and shallow, like my lungs had forgotten how to work in her absence. The apartment was too quiet, too cold.
I sat on the edge of the bed—our bed—staring at my hands. They shook, useless and twitching as if they still held the phantom weight of the words I’d hurled at her. Cruel, biting words. The memory of my voice—sharp, venomous—reverberated in my skull, each syllable another knife I’d driven into her heart.
I told her she wasn’t enough.
The image of her face burned into my mind: wide eyes, trembling lips, the way she tried and failed to hold herself together. I’d done that. I’d destroyed the only person who ever made me feel like I wasn’t just a shadow of a man held together by anger and regret.
What if she doesn’t come back?
The thought hit like a blow to the gut, doubling me over. What if I’d pushed her too far? What if I’d done it this time?
“Goddamn it.” The words came out hoarse, broken, as I slammed my fist against the nightstand. The wood splintered, but I barely felt it.
I hated myself. Hated the monster that lashed out, destroying everything in its path. Hated how I couldn’t stop, couldn’t trust myself not to ruin her, too.
But I couldn’t live without her.
That truth cut deeper than the guilt. She was my anchor, my tether to something brighter. Without her, there was nothing. Just the darkness swallowing me whole.
I gripped the edges of the bed so hard my knuckles went white, my body shaking from the weight of it all. It wasn’t just guilt anymore; it was fear. A primal, consuming fear that she might never come back.
What if I’ve lost her for good?
The thought gutted me.
She was my everything, the only thing in this world that mattered. And now, all I had was the echo of her voice, the ghost of her touch, and the crushing weight of my own mistakes.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to fix this, how to take back the words I’d said or the hurt I’d caused. All I could do was sit here, alone in this silence, and feel the suffocating absence of her.
Thirteen hours and twenty minutes had passed, and it felt like an eternity.
What was I going to do if she didn’t come back?
All these damn what-ifs .
I’d never let them rule my life before. They were for cowards, for people too afraid to grab what they wanted and twist it into what they needed. I didn’t believe in them. Never have. I broke them, bent them, carved them into what I thought should happen.
But now? Now, I was drowning in them.
What if she doesn’t forgive me? What if I lose her forever? What if I just ruined the only good thing I’ve ever had?
I clenched my jaw so tight my teeth ached, furious at myself. Why the hell am I acting so fucking pathetic?
I grabbed my phone before I could think twice, dialing her number. It rang once, twice, then went straight to voicemail.
Again.
Straight to voicemail.
I stared at the screen, my heart pounding like a war drum. I didn’t know where she was. No clue where she’d gone. But I could find out.
I dialed another number. The line rang three times before it connected.
“I was expecting your call,” Hael said, his voice carrying that familiar edge of amusement, sharp and mocking. “What have you done now?”
“How bad is it?” I demanded, skipping the pretense.
He laughed—an actual laugh. Bastard.
“Bad enough.”
Ten minutes later, I was in my car, the GPS flashing an address that gnawed at my gut. Half an hour later, the building came into view—a shadow among shadows, somehow wrong in its stillness.
It stood at the edge of the city, where the streets faded into uneven terrain and the skyline broke apart into jagged silhouettes. Surrounding it were other nondescript buildings, but this one... it felt out of place. Quiet in a way that whispered danger. The windows were dark, the concrete facade stripped of identity, but the silence—heavy, waiting—made my shoulders tense.
Inside, a man at reception barely looked up. His eyes flicked over me, sharp and uninterested, before he gestured with a quick jerk of his chin. “Follow me.”
The place crawled with men like him. Silent, armed, and too calculating for comfort. They moved like wolves—steady, efficient, ready to pounce the second a threat presented itself. They didn’t stare outright, but the fleeting glances they shot me were enough. Measuring. Assessing. Dismissing.
These were the Aarles men. And every inch of this place bore their mark. It wasn’t just owned; it was theirs .
The elevator ride was a brief reprieve, but the weight in the air didn’t lift. It clung, pressing down harder as we ascended. The man beside me stared straight ahead, but his posture said enough—alert, disciplined, dangerous.
When we stopped, he led me out into a dim hallway, the faint click of his boots the only sound. He stopped short of the door at the far end, gesturing toward it.
“The young masters are inside,” he said curtly. No pleasantries. No preamble. Then he spun on his heel and left without a glance back.
“Thanks,” I muttered under my breath, my gaze trailing him before shifting to the door ahead.
I scanned the hallway out of habit—always check for exits. One to the left, another behind me. The walls were thick, dulling the world outside, but not enough to block out the sharp crack of gunfire.
A range.
I moved to the door, my hand hesitating for half a second before pushing it open.
The sharp bite of gunpowder in the air, the echo of a shot ringing off the walls, and—her.
Renée stood at the far end, her back to me, a gun raised in her hands. She was calm, and focused, her stance steady and unshakable.
My chest tightened as I followed her line of sight. Hael and Ezio. Her brothers. They stood near the wall, their expressions shifting to mortified as Renée pulled the trigger.
The shot landed a whisper away from Hael’s shoulder, just past Ezio’s side. It landed perfectly in between them.
She lowered the gun, and said something, before turning. Her eyes swept past me without pause, and as she walked by, her shoulder brushed mine. The faintest hint of jasmine ghosted over me, leaving me frozen.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
What the hell had just happened?
But it wasn’t the precision of her aim or the tension in the room that lingered in my mind. It wasn’t even the fact that her brothers looked mortified clinging to each other.
It was her. The quiet, unshakable confidence in her steps. The fire smoldered in her eyes. The way she moved—not just as if she belonged to this world, but as if she commanded it, untouched and untouchable.
And damn, I didn’t think it was possible to fall any harder than I already had. But Renée? She had a way of proving me wrong, over and over again.
Because right then, I fell a little further.
Fuck.
I loved her.
I didn’t notice Hael and Ezio until they were right in front of me.
“So, you made it.” Ezio’s voice was casual, but the edge in it wasn’t.
The shock I’d seen earlier in their eyes was long gone, replaced with lethal precision. Ezio’s smile was easy, almost lazy, as his hands stayed buried in his pockets. He looked like some cocky college kid, but I knew better. That laid-back facade only made him more dangerous.
And Hael? Well, there wasn’t much to say about him. His silence spoke volumes. The way his gaze pinned me in place, sharp enough to cut through steel, was enough to let me know exactly where I stood.
I could practically feel the weight of unspoken threats in the air, the kind that promised pain in ways I couldn’t even imagine. Torture? That was a given. If they ever found out I’d been prying into their business for years—futile as it was—I wouldn’t leave this place in one piece. Hell, I wouldn’t leave at all.
And this wasn’t a meeting. It was an inspection.
I knew damn well why Hael had given me the address so easily. It wasn’t trust. It was a message. A subtle but deliberate act of intimidation. And hell, it was working.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t rattled.
Every instinct told me I wouldn’t walk out of here alive if I so much as blinked wrong. This was their world, and I was just trespassing.
And all those reasons I’d been feeding myself for why I needed to push Renée away? They suddenly felt absurd. Trivial.
Renée didn’t just have baggage—she had a world of danger wrapped around her like a noose. Deadly, terrifying reasons that would have most men running for the hills if she laid them bare.
But who was I kidding? Running wasn’t an option for me anymore. Not from her.
I was in too deep.
And the only way out of what I’d built with Renée?
Was death.
“Damn, man, you’re fucked.” Ezio’s laugh was sharp, more mocking than amuse. “Seriously, what the hell did you do?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but Hael stepped in before I could.
“That’s not necessary.” His tone was calm—too calm—as he moved closer, his imposing figure casting a long shadow.
“You listen to me, Javier.” Then his voice dropped, turning to ice. “If you hurt Renée again—if you make her regret trusting you—I’ll make sure you regret it. You won’t have to worry about her walking away. You’ll be wishing you had.”
I didn’t flinch. “I’d rather die than hurt her again. You don’t need to remind me how much I’ve already screwed this up. I know.”
Hael didn’t reply right away, just stared, weighing my words like he was testing their weight against his patience. The silence was thick, stretching between us, but I didn’t break eye contact.
Finally, he gave the smallest of nods and stepped back. It wasn’t forgiveness, but it wasn’t outright dismissal either.
“Good,” Hael said quietly, his tone still cold.
“I’ll take my leave now. I’ve got an angry princess to calm down,” I said, starting to turn away.
“Good luck with that,” Ezio called after me. “Renée’s gonna eat you alive.”
I turned just enough to glance at him, a slow grin spreading across my face. “She’s more than welcome to. If I have to go, I’d be glad it was at her hands.”
Ezio let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “You’re either brave or stupid.”
“Neither,” I shot back as I headed toward the door. “Just hopelessly in love.”
Renée was storming down the hallway like a force of nature, all fire and fury wrapped in a deceptively small package. The sound of her heels on the floor was sharp, deliberate, a warning shot in itself. A group of guys passed her, and she barked something low, her tone enough to make them scatter like leaves in a storm.
I almost hesitated. Almost.
A woman like her—fiery and unyielding—could set even the devil ablaze.
But I wasn’t a coward—not when it came to her.
“Renée!” I called after her, my voice firm, though my stomach was tying itself in knots.
She didn’t slow down. Hell, she sped up, practically daring me to catch her.
“Renée, sweetheart!” I picked up my pace, “Please stop!” I reached for her arm.
The cold press of steel against my stomach made me freeze.
Her gun was already drawn, the safety off, her hand steady as a damn rock. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “Touch me again, and I swear to God, I’ll do what everyone else is too scared to do.”
I raised my hands, palms open in surrender, and stepped back just enough to give her space but not enough to retreat. “If it’s at your hands, I’d gladly give my life away,” I said, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest. "But I’d rather not ruin your shoes in the process."
Her sharp laugh cut through the air, cold and biting. “You want to talk? Fine. Let’s talk.”
Before I could respond, she shoved me back, her gun still pressed against me. She marched me down the hallway, her steps unhurried, her grip unyielding, until she shoved me through a door and kicked it shut behind her.
“You’ve got one chance,” she said, the gun now aimed at my chest. “So talk, Javier. Tell me why the hell you think you get to decide what I deserve. Why do you think you’re doing me some kind of favor by walking away.”
Her words hit harder than the gun ever could.
“I thought—”
“No,” she snapped, cutting me off. “You didn’t think. You assumed. You decided. You decided I’m better off without you, like I don’t get a damn say in my own life.”
Her voice was sharp, but underneath it, there was something deeper—something raw and wounded.
“You think you’re some kind of monster?” she demanded, her eyes blazing. “Fine. Be a monster. But don’t you dare think for one second that I can’t handle you? Don’t you dare think that I’m fragile, that I need you to protect me from you? If you’re hell, Javier, then I’ll burn with you. But don’t you ever take that choice away from me again.”
My throat tightened, my words sticking like ash. “I didn’t—”
“You did,” she hissed, taking a step closer. “You did, and you know it. You don’t get to push me away because you’re scared. You don’t get to make that call for me.”
Her hand trembled slightly, the barrel of the gun dipping ever so slightly. “Do you know what I felt when I realized what you were doing?” she asked, her voice quieter but no less dangerous. “Not hurt. Not betrayed. Angry. Angry that you thought you could decide for me. Angry that you didn’t trust me enough to let me make my own damn choice.”
“I was trying to protect you,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“From what? From you?” She let out another bitter laugh. “Newsflash, Javier. I don’t need protection from you. I need you to stop being a coward.”
Her words cut deep, sharper than any blade, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak.
“I know I screwed up,” I said finally. “I know I don’t deserve you. But I want to make things right. So, tell me—where do you need me? On my knees? Begging? You say the word, love, and I’ll do it.”
Her lips parted, something flickering in her expression, but she quickly masked it.
“Get up,” she said, her tone cold, stepping back and holstering her gun. “I don’t want you groveling. I want you to get it through your thick skull that I chose you. And if you try to push me away again, I won’t waste my time chasing you. I’ll walk away and never look back.” She turned on her heel, her movements sharp, and stormed out of the room without looking back.