Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
LUCA
She was asleep.
But not because she felt safe. Because she was drugged .
She was still curled against Bastion’s thigh, breath slow and uneven. Her arm draped lazily across his lap, lips parted like she might still be murmuring pieces of that confession.
“People like me still.”
“Griffin’s tins were blue.”
“You two would be on the trust list.”
And we just sat there.
Burning.
I’d walked away when her words started slurring. When her eyes dimmed into something too floaty, too loose. I saw it immediately, the way her head dropped with that heavy drift like gravity had finally caught up with her.
She didn’t even realize what she was saying. Didn’t realize how much she gave us.And then she passed out.
That was the moment I lost control.
Now, Vince’s voice echoed through the phone at my ear. Low. Measured.
“Where’s Bastion? ”
I glanced over.
He was on the couch. One hand wrapped around a towel packed with ice, the other gently resting across Emilia’s hip. He hadn’t moved in ten minutes. Just sat there. Seething.
“Asleep,” I lied.
Vince paused—just long enough to make me wonder if he believed it.
“And Griffin?”
As if questioning was he still alive or if I had called after we had already reacted.
“I want him gone.”
“I know you do.” The flick of a lighter. A long drag of his cigarette. “But not yet.”
I pushed off the wall. “She was drugged , Vince. Repeatedly”
I mean not awake-still. Like still still.
I dragged my hand over my face.
A pause. The sound of a lighter flicking. A soft inhale.
“You end him now, it’ll trace back. And you know what that means.”
I did. It meant retaliation. It meant war.
Another long drag, “Timing matters.”
“Fuck the timing.”
“No,” he said quietly. “You don’t get to fuck the timing , Luca. You get to play the long game. Because you’re smart. Because you’re a Crow. You put him on a list. You bury him over years. You ruin his credibility, his inheritance, his name. Then you end him.”
Silence. The same type that was normal with Vince. Not judging us, just forcing us to think.
“I know how to wait,” I said finally, my voice tight. “I just don’t know how to be okay while I do.”
“Then don’t be okay. Be precise. I didn’t raise boys. I raised men. Men who know how to do their revenge so clean, no one sees the blade until it’s already in.”
There was another pause. Longer.
“You’re doing good, Luca. Better than I did at your age.”
That hit harder than anything else could’ve.
“Get Bastion to call me. I just need to hear that he’s okay. Alright?”
“Yeah.”
“But if it ever gets too much, for you or for Bastion, you call me. I’ll handle it.”
My chest tightened.
Because that was Vince. Calm on the surface. Rage underneath.
“Regardless of the consequences,” his tone changed, “No one fucks with your head. Not while I’m breathing. Hear me.”
My lips twitched up, slightly.
And that was the part that stayed with me.
Because when it came to us? He meant it.
And then the line went dead.
I stayed where I was for another second, jaw locked.
Bastion hadn’t moved. Not even a little.
His fingers were still pressed to the side of her waist. His eyes locked on her face like she might disappear if he looked away.
I sat on the edge of the couch beside them.
“You can’t keep pretending with him,” I said quietly.
Bastion’s shoulders tensed slightly. But he didn’t look up.
“Vince. You’ve been pulling off this act for a while now. The calm brother. The easy one. The version of yourself that laughs at everything and makes everything light.”
His jaw shifted slightly. He pressed the ice harder to his hand.
I hated that Bastion did it. I hated that every time we went to Villain, he faked a personality, as if Vince would be mad with him.
We’re brothers. We’re all alike it. Its like me trying to hide that I have traits like Nik.
But Bastion, kept fighting it. Didn’t want Vince to see himself in him.
It drove me mad, watching my twin twist into someone else every time we arrived home. The act never lasts long, only long enough in front of them.
I watched him from the corner of the couch, that same hand pressing the ice harder like it might erase whatever emotion was threatening to show.
I hated that he felt like he had to play that role to keep the peace. Though what I hated more. That he got to be the peace, while I inherited the rest. The mess. The weight. The temper. The fucking rage.
Because when Bastion became someone else, someone lighter— someone easier to swallow —he left me.
“I don’t need you to be the calm one,” I said softly, more to myself than him.
He still didn’t look at me. Still clung to the act like if he let it go, he might snap.
“You don’t have to carry it like it doesn’t hurt,” I added. “Because every time you do, I feel it. Every time you pretend, you’re not angry… I get angrier. Like it gets passed to me.”
That was the worst part—because we were always halves of the same thing. And when one half hides the damage, the other bleeds twice as hard.
“I’d rather you show it,” I said. I watched him grip the edge of his rage like it might explode if he let go.
“How are you going to keep this up?” I asked. “Seriously.”
His eyes flicked toward me, just once.
“When we’re back in Villain… working next to them. Ru nning their deals. Standing beside Vince and Nik like nothing inside you’s about to snap.”
He didn’t answer.
“Villain isn’t just a city,” I said. “It’s a fucking pressure cooker. You know that. You feel it the second we step off the elevator. Like the walls are listening. Like legacy’s crawling under your skin.”
Still nothing.
But his fingers flexed around the ice pack.
“You fake it for a day or two, fine. But weeks? Months?” I shook my head. “What happens the first time someone talks down to you? The first time Vince looks disappointed? You’re not going to be able to swallow it forever, Bastion.”
I kept my tone even, but it cracked a little anyway.
“And when you do blow? When it finally comes out?” I gestured toward him. “It won’t be quiet.”
His shoulders tensed—like he wanted to argue. Like he knew I was right and hated me for saying it out loud.
“I just…” I dragged in a breath. “I don’t want to watch you set yourself on fire trying to be the version of you they can live with. Because I’ll end up burning with you.”
And that’s what it always came down to.
If he broke— I broke too.
Because we were never made to survive separately.
Not really.
Bastion’s free hand curled around Emilia’s wrist.
Soft. Subconscious.
Like he needed the feel of her pulse just to remind himself she was still here. Still breathing.
Her breathing wasn’t even and it was starting to worry me. I tapped my fingers, as her confessions started running through my mind again .
But the louder question, who had planned on having her like this tonight.
Then something sunk in my chest. As I stared at her beautiful peaceful face. Suddenly I stood up, fast, too fast. My blood was running hot. My thoughts wouldn’t land.
My hands felt useless.
My chest too tight.
Three months.
That’s all it took.
Three months and I was already wrecked .
She shouldn’t mean this much.
Not yet. Not this deep.
But she did.
I paced to the far end of the suite, trying to breathe, trying to not look back at her. But I couldn’t help it.
She looked so peaceful in Bastion’s lap.
But it wasn’t peace. It was sedation.
That high, sleepy slur. Her too-sweet confessions. The way her voice dipped like it didn’t even know it was breaking.
Griffin’s tins were Caplan blue.
You two would be on the trust list.
Like we were something precious.
As if we hadn’t done things that would make her run if she knew.
I turned sharply, hands braced against the counter.
My heart was racing.
She trusted us.
She trusted us.
And she didn’t even know what the fuck she was giving away.
I looked at Bastion. He hadn’t moved. Not a twitch.
Too quiet.
Too still .
That’s how I knew it was bad.
Because normally, I’m the quiet one. And Bastion’s the storm.
The blow-up-the-room-and-ask-questions-later kind of fury.
But when we’re triggered—when it’s bad —we switch.
I spiral.
And Bastion disappears into silence.
Like now.
I crossed back to the couch and stared down at him.
“Say something.”
Nothing.
“Bastion—say something.”
Still nothing. Just the twitch of his jaw. His hand a statue on her waist like if he let go, the whole world would shift out from under us.
“You can’t do this to me,” I snapped. “You don’t get to go quiet right now.”
I was breathing too fast. My voice was rising.
“You always do this,” I said, teeth clenched. “You lock it down. You shut it out. You get that look like you’re made of concrete and I’m the one who has to feel all of it for both of us.”
My throat was tight. I could barely speak.
“I’m not okay,” I said. “I’m not built to carry us both.”
I ran a hand through my hair, gripping hard at the roots.
“She told us she was drugged, Bastion. She said it like she was talking about the weather. Like it didn’t even matter anymore.”
I looked at her again—at the girl curled into my twin like she didn’t know she owned every sharp edge we had.
“I don’t even know when it happened,” I whispered. “But I love her.”
My whole body stilled .
That was the truth.
I love her.
And it terrifies me.
“Fuck,” I muttered, choking on it. “I love her and I don’t know what to do with it.”
My hands were shaking.
“What if she finds out how fucked up, we are?” I asked, eyes darting from her to him.
I dropped to the couch beside them, shaking my head. That thought alone made my stomach turn.
“What if she stays?” I added, voice breaking. “What if she loves us back, and I ruin it anyway?”
I met Bastion’s eyes.
“What if someone takes her from us?”
That was the worst one. The one that lit something dark inside me.
“Because if someone touches her, if someone even tries …I’ll lose it.”
He still didn’t speak.
“Don’t go silent on me,” I begged. “Please. I need you to say something.”
Still quiet.
I thought I’d break right there.
My throat burned. My fists were clenched so tight, my nails dug into my palms.
The panic was starting to spread beneath my skin, and suffocating.
She was right there. Right there .
And still, I felt like I was losing her.
What if she never woke up? What if she has a reaction to the drug? We don’t know what she is allergic too. What if she slipped through our hands because we didn’t notice fast enough ? What if she died .
My vision blurred. The walls of the suite stretched too far. Too wide.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered. “I can’t—I don’t know how to…this is to much.”
Finally, Bastion moved.
Just slightly.
His hand lifted from her hip and he looked at me—not with anger, not with fear.
“Take my spot,” he said roughly.
I blinked. “What?”
He nodded once, jaw locked. “Switch with me.”
I froze. “Bastion…”
“Now.”
My stomach twisted. I looked at her. Her body still curled against him, her cheek pressed to his thigh like it was the only thing she trusted in the room.
I shook my head, trembling. “I—I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I don’t want to hurt her.” My voice broke completely. “What if I can’t hold it in?”
“You won’t hurt her,” he said, quieter now. “You never do.”
His voice dropped low, steady, the way it only got when we were seconds from snapping.
“Luca,” he said. “Take my spot.”
I shook my head. Backed up a half-step like the words had teeth.
“I don’t want to love her,” I said. My voice cracked, “Make it stop.”
Bastion didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak. Just kept his hand on her back, thumb stroking once over her spine like she was something breakable.
“It’s only been three months,” I whispered. “Three months and I—” I broke off, dragging a hand through my hair, tugging hard at the roots. “This isn’t real. This is just me being… me. ”
I pointed at her.
At her —curled against him like he was the last breath on earth.
“That’s what this is,” I muttered. “That’s just how I’m wired. I obsess. I latch on. I blur the lines between need and love and—fuck— ownership. ”
Bastion stayed still. “You sure?” he asked finally, voice low.
I laughed once. Dry. Empty. “No. And that’s the fucking problem.”
I looked at her again. And suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “ Fuck , I think I love her.”
There. I said it. I hated that I said it. And worse—I meant it.
Bastion didn’t blink. Didn’t nod. He didn’t need to. He already knew.
“Take my spot,” he said again, quieter now. Like he was offering me a lifeline. Like he knew I wouldn’t take it.
And I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
I shook my head. “If you hate her… I’ll hate her.”
He didn’t respond.
My voice sharpened, desperate. “ Hate her , Bastion. Balance me out. Make it make sense again.”
Still, nothing.
“I’m the one who spirals,” I snapped. “You’re the one who pulls me back. That’s how this works. So fucking hate her —please—so I can.”
He looked at me then. And I knew. I knew before he said it.
“I can’t,” Bastion said quietly. “You already know that.”
And that’s when it hit me. Really hit me.
I’m fucked.
Because if he couldn’t hate her …
Then neither of us stood a chance.
My stomach hollowed.
Something inside me collapsed, quietly, cruelly, like a structure giving way after too much pressure. I wasn’t panicking. Not anymore.
I was sinking.
I was in love with Emilia Adams.
Untouchable. Unattainable. The golden dynasty daughter.
Worse.
We were in love with Emilia Adams.
And we were already too far gone to survive it.