Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
K iera
The silence after Ronan stormed out was almost deafening. I sat at the kitchen island, my fingers wrapped around the mug of now-cold coffee, my mind a whirlwind of questions and doubts.
I bit my lip, staring at the spot where he’d stood just moments ago, his eyes stormy and his voice cold as steel.
“You think I’m that stupid?” he’d said.
And the way he’d said it—the raw edge to his voice, like the very idea offended him—had me second-guessing everything.
What if I was wrong?
What if Ronan really hadn’t done it? I’d accused him so quickly, assuming that he was the only one ruthless enough to take down Lorenzo Benedetti, but Ronan wasn’t reckless. For all the power and danger that he carried, there was a calculation to every move he made. And blowing up Lorenzo’s house in broad daylight? That wasn’t like him, and I knew that.
The truth was I didn’t know this world—not really. I didn’t understand its rules, its players, or the consequences of moves I couldn’t even see.
But I wanted to.
God help me, I wanted to. I was stuck between wanting to run as far as possible from all of this, and proving that I could stand at Ronan’s side.
That I was strong enough. Worthy enough.
Ronan was like no one I’d ever known—dangerous and unrelenting, but fiercely loyal and protective in a way that made my chest ache. He didn’t just let me into his world; he pulled me in, piece by piece, until I couldn’t imagine standing anywhere else.
And I didn’t want to leave.
Not anymore.
I hated admitting it, but I was falling for him—more and more with every passing minute, every look, every brush of his hand against mine. There was something about the way he saw me, the way he looked past my walls and into the parts of me I kept hidden, that made it impossible to pull away. He made me feel alive in a way I never had before, like I was stepping into the light after years of hiding in the shadows.
It wasn’t just about the thrill, though that was part of it. It was the way he made me feel like I belonged—like I could be part of something bigger, something stronger, something worth fighting for. I wanted to prove to him, to myself, that I could handle this world. That I wasn’t just some outsider clinging to the edges, but someone who deserved to stand beside him.
Because leaving wasn’t an option anymore.
I didn’t want out. I wanted him.
I groaned, scrubbing my hands over my face. A week ago, I’d been a normal girl—well, mostly normal—who’d picked the wrong fight in the wrong club. Now I was standing in the middle of a man’s penthouse, wondering if I could be his woman for good.
“Get a grip, Kiera,” I muttered under my breath.
I stood and paced, desperate for something—anything—to do. My phone sat on the counter, and suddenly, I knew exactly who I needed to call.
Leena.
She’d know what to say, what to do. Hell, she was the reason I was tangled up with Ronan in the first place. But when I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my contacts, I remembered that Leena hadn’t brought her regular phone with her, at least not this weekend.
This was the weekend she went away.
Oh, fuck. Where was that number?
For a moment, I panicked, but then I saw my blue leather bag sitting on the counter waiting for me. In a rush, I started digging through my purse like a madwoman, praying I hadn’t thrown it out.
“Come on, come on…” I muttered, until finally, I found it—a crumpled piece of paper with Leena’s handwriting scrawled across it.
I grabbed my phone and punched in the number, holding my breath as the line rang. Once. Twice.
“Hello?” Leena’s voice came through, muffled but unmistakable.
“Leena, it’s me,” I said, relief flooding me at the sound of her voice.
“Kiera?” she said, sounding surprised. “How’d you—oh, right. I gave you this number.”
“Yeah, you did. Where are you right now?”
Leena let out a soft laugh. “Like I told you—I’m glamping. We’re at a lodge in the middle of nowhere, Kiera. It’s great. You should try it sometime.”
“This isn’t funny, Leena,” I snapped, gripping the phone tighter. “Something big happened. You need to come home. Now.”
The line went quiet for a beat. “What do you mean? What happened?”
I glanced around the penthouse as though Ronan might appear out of thin air, lowering my voice. “It’s all over the news. Lorenzo Benedetti’s dead. There was… there was an explosion. It’s bad, Leena.”
“What?” she breathed, all trace of humor gone from her voice.
“You need to come back to the city,” I said firmly. “You’re not safe out there, not alone. I don’t care how far north you are—if Ronan finds out where you are and that you snuck off, he’s going to lose his mind.”
Leena was quiet for another moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was more serious than I’d ever heard it.
“Okay. I’ll head back. But Kiera—are you okay? You sound… a little off.”
I hesitated. Was I okay? I didn’t even know anymore.
“I’ll be fine,” I said eventually. “Just get back here. Please.”
“Alright. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”
The line went dead, and I let out a shaky breath. Needing some sense of normalcy, I walked into the master bedroom and then the closet. I found my clothes and got dressed in a pair of leggings and a long sweater. I splashed some water on my face in the master bath before walking back out into the living room.
What the fuck had I gotten myself into?