Chapter Six
MILA
Iexpected silence when I came downstairs. Instead, I found muted conversations.
Early sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft gold across the kitchen table. The apartment carried the scent of coffee and cedar, familiar and steady, but threaded through it was something rarer. Laughter.
Mom sat across from Edwardo, one hand wrapped around her mug, shoulders relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen in months. It wasn’t guarded or forced. It was my mom, the way I remembered her before all of this.
Edwardo leaned back in his chair, broad shoulders filling the narrow kitchen space without effort.
Dark hair combed back, the ends brushing the collar of his shirt, he looked every bit as solid as I remembered.
The man who my mom had once trusted more than anyone.
His voice rolled low and even, commanding attention without trying.
“You should’ve seen the accountant’s face when I told him I’d be handling the rent payments myself. He couldn’t get off the phone fast enough.”
My mother shook her head, amusement lingering in her eyes. “You can’t bulldoze everyone, Ed.”
“Sometimes it keeps the snakes in their cages.”
That edge in his tone didn’t feel theatrical. It felt practiced.
When I stepped fully into the doorway, he rose immediately. The movement was instinctive. Protective. It had always been that way with him.
“Morning, kiddo. I was hoping I’d catch you before you left.”
No one else had called me that. It had only ever been him, and the word sat somewhere steady in my chest.
“Morning,” I managed.
He studied me for a second, gaze sweeping over me as though assessing damage that wasn’t visible. “Until I’m sure Dunn’s dogs stop sniffing around, you call in sick. You stay where I can see you.”
My mother’s voice lowered. “Ed—”
He cut her off gently, not unkind. “This isn’t up for debate. I’ve got something in motion. It needs a few hours to settle. Once it does, certain people will understand that coming after you isn’t worth the trouble.”
I folded my arms. “Untouchable how?”
A grin tugged at his mouth. Not playful. Controlled. “Let’s just say I made a few calls. By the end of the day, the climate will shift.”
My mom reached across the table and squeezed his hand. The gesture was subtle, intimate.
I watched the ease between them. The quiet alignment. For the first time in a long time, my mother didn’t appear braced for impact.
Mom squeezed Edwardo’s hand, the gesture subtle but charged with something older than this week.
“Be careful, Ed.”
He met her eyes in a way that made my stomach tighten. “I always am.”
There was history there. Years of almosts. Of timing that never lined up. Of feelings neither of them had ever named out loud. And for the first time, it didn’t feel unfinished.
Maybe she was finally done running from what had always been between them. Maybe she was finally letting herself choose something for herself that was real.
Edwardo turned back to me, expression firming. “You call in sick today.”
I blinked. “No.”
His brow lifted slightly. “Kid—”
“I’m not hiding in this house while Elise parades around school thinking she’s won.”
Mom stepped in. “This isn’t about pride.”
“It’s about visibility,” I countered. “We agreed. No disappearing.”
Edwardo studied me for a long second. “Dunn’s people are watching.”
“Then let them watch,” I replied. “I’ll go to class, then home. It’ll be fine.”
His jaw flexed once. “I don’t want you alone.”
“I won’t be.”
He held my gaze. “Luke picks you up. Luke drops you off. You stay where he can keep an eye on you.”
My pulse steadied at the sound of his name. “Luke will be there. He’s meeting me in the parking lot. I need the car because he has hockey practice after school. He’ll walk me to it. I’ll be fine, promise.”
Edwardo gave a single nod, decision made. “Then I’m not worried about today.”
Mom glanced between us. “You trust Luke that much?”
Edwardo didn’t hesitate. “I had him looked into. I trust what he does when it matters.”
That landed heavier than I expected.
Mom’s shoulders eased a fraction before she glanced at me again. “Stay alert. Text me the second you get to school.”
“I will.”
I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed for the door, trying not to dwell on how much lighter the house felt with Edwardo in it.
The parking lot at Blackwood shimmered under the morning sun, students drifting in clusters toward the entrance. My mind kept replaying Edwardo’s words.
He’d called his brother, that had to be what was in motion. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him calling in a favor for us.
I spotted Luke before he saw me. He moved through the lot with quiet certainty, two coffees balanced in his hands, hair still damp. There were shadows under his eyes he hadn’t bothered to hide.
He tapped on my window with one knuckle. A small grin lifted one corner of his mouth.
I pushed the door open with a wide smile at what he held. “You got the good stuff?” Please let it be mocha latte with an extra shot of expresso.
“Extra shot. Mocha latte and caramel added too.” He passed me one cup. “Figured you’d need it.”
Yes, most definitely. Especially after everything last night that hung between us unspoken.
I got out of the car, locked it, and stowed my keys in my backpack. We fell into step together, walking toward the building. A few heads turned. Not curious in the cruel way from before. Not whispering.
I didn’t care, not with Luke by my side and the heavenly first sip of my drink. People watched as Luke’s hand rested around my waist and on my hip, where it felt right. The silence held, but it didn’t feel hostile.
Luke nudged my shoulder lightly. “We could still bail. Beach sounds better than calculus.”
“And hand Elise a victory?” I snorted. “Absolutely not.”
His mouth curved faintly. “Fair.”
I studied him as we crossed the pavement. “You look exhausted.”
“Didn’t sleep.”
“Because?”
“Family bullshit.” His jaw tightened slightly. “Dad’s pissed about... well, everything. Drew’s trying to contain it.”
“You sure that’s all?”
“For now.”
He was carrying too much. I exhaled slowly. “We promised to do this together. Everything. No secrets or bailing.”
His green eyes flicked to mine. “You quoting me?”
“Only when necessary.”
A breath of amusement left him. “Guess I deserve that.”
We reached the front steps, sunlight spilling across the concrete. He brushed his thumb along my waist, just beneath the hem of my shirt. The contact anchored me more than the caffeine.
“You good?” he asked quietly.
“For the most part.” I met his gaze. “Being with you helps.”
“It’s the same for me.”
He leaned in, slow enough that I could have pulled away. I didn’t.
The kiss was gentle. Not for display. Not a statement for others. It was intentional, steady, and so very sexy. His hand tensed slightly at my waist, fingers splaying against my hip, drawing me closer without urgency.
When he pulled back, I murmured, “You taste like caffeine and bad decisions.”
“And you taste worth every one.”
Heat crept into my cheeks. Our laughter stayed low, contained between us. With him, I didn’t feel braced for impact, and the realization startled me more than anything else this morning.
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Let’s survive today.”
“That’s the plan.”
His fingers threaded through mine as we climbed the steps.
Movement across the quad caught my eye. Elise stood half-shadowed behind a pillar, phone in hand.
I held her gaze. Give us your worst. I wasn’t letting her toy with me anymore.
The coffee warmed my hand, but something colder stirred in my stomach. Edwardo’s plan was unfolding. Whatever he had set in motion with his brother was moving now.
Luke squeezed my hand once, firm and deliberate.
We stepped through the doors.
Classes flew by in a blur. Avery stayed at my side between periods, not hovering, just present. Her fingers brushed mine once in the hallway before she tucked them into the strap of her bag.
At lunch, we claimed our usual table. It wasn’t long until Chase and Luke found us. Theo dropped into the chair beside Luke and dragged a hand through his hair. “If Coach runs suicides again tomorrow, I’m staging a revolt.”
Chase grinned. “You’d die first.”
“Worth it,” Theo muttered.
Jax took the seat beside Avery but didn’t relax. His posture stayed loose, casual—except his eyes never stopped moving. Door. Hallway. Elise’s usual corner near the windows. Back again.
Avery nudged him lightly. “You’re staring.”
“I’m observing,” he corrected.
“Subtle.”
“Never been my brand.”
Luke’s knee brushed mine under the table. His hand rested briefly against my thigh beneath the edge of the table before retreating. A check-in. A question.
I pressed my knee against his in answer. I’m good.
Jax’s gaze flicked to us and then back to the room. He didn’t smirk. Didn’t tease. He just nodded.
Chase leaned back in his chair. “So are we pretending everything’s normal, or are we acknowledging that the entire senior class thinks we’re in a Netflix documentary?”
Theo snorted. “Focus on the power play, not the audience.”
Avery looked at me quietly. Not pushing. Just anchoring.
The day crawled. But it didn’t feel isolating. It felt contained. And that was enough.
The final bell released the building into controlled chaos.
Students spilled into the courtyard in loose clusters, laughter too loud, relief too obvious. The late-afternoon light hit the stone facade in long shadows, gilding everything in false warmth.
I saw it before I understood it. A black sedan idled at the curb beyond the wrought-iron gates. Specifically, a black Mercedes-Benz S-Class Guard. It was a very distinct car, a tank really. Designed to be bullet proof and blast-resistant.
No one at Blackwood drove anything like that. Students slowed as they passed, curiosity threading through their expressions. A few phones appeared discreetly in hands.
My phone vibrated with a text message from Edwardo: You’ll see the car.
My pulse steadied instead of spiking. Edwardo sent a number next.
Luke followed my gaze. His posture shifted almost imperceptibly. Alert. Focused. The version of him that was built for war.
“Is that—” I began.
“Yes,” he answered quietly.
The driver’s door opened.
A man stepped out in a tailored black suit, shirt crisp, collar sharp against his throat. Sunglasses hid his eyes despite the overcast sky. He didn’t scan the area nervously. He looked once—slow, assessing—as if committing the campus to memory. He folded his hands in front of him and waited.
Then he walked toward us.
The courtyard noise didn’t stop, but it thinned.
Elise emerged from the west corridor with her usual entourage, phone already in hand. She saw the car. Saw the man walking with purpose. Her steps slowed—not enough for anyone but someone watching her closely to notice.
The man stopped a respectful distance in front of us.
“Ms. Callahan.”
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.
Several nearby conversations faltered.
His head inclined slightly toward Luke. “Mr. King.”
Luke’s shoulders squared, not in fear—in recognition. He met the man’s gaze evenly. A silent assessment. Not challenge. Not submission.
“Mr. Ruiz asked that I ensure you leave campus safely,” the man continued. “I’ll walk you to your vehicle.”
Not take me. Walk me. A choice. I glanced at Luke. His jaw was tight, but his nod was subtle and deliberate.
“You good?” he asked.
“I’m good.”
The three of us started toward the lot. The man didn’t hover. Didn’t crowd. He walked at my shoulder, close enough to be seen, far enough to respect space.
Every set of eyes followed. The message wasn’t subtle. We’re here. We’re visible. And we’re not afraid of being seen.
When we reached my car, the man stopped. His gaze swept the perimeter once before he stepped back, waiting for me to get in my vehicle. I opened the door, hesitating before getting in.
“If anything arises,” he said quietly, “call the number Mr. Ruiz gave you.”
“I will.”
He inclined his head once more then turned and walked back toward the waiting Mercedes.
Across the courtyard, Elise’s phone was no longer angled casually. She was typing. Fast. For the first time since this began, she didn’t look in control.
Luke’s fingers brushed mine as I unlocked the door. “You still with me?” he asked softly.
“Always.”
He leaned in just enough that his forehead almost brushed mine. Not for show. For grounding.
The armored sedan remained idling beyond the gates, waiting for me. Protection didn’t erase the war. It just changed the playing field.
We stood there together, watching the first visible ripple of Edwardo’s plan move through Blackwood Academy.
I had no idea what Edwardo’s stepbrother Dominick Ferraro looked like. But I didn’t need to. The presence alone shifted the ground beneath our feet.
As I started my car and Luke stepped back, I understood something clearly for the first time. Fear had driven me for weeks. Today, resolve took its place.