THIRD PERSON POV
Ace drove in silence.
The city blurred past his windows. Light, noise, motion but none of it touched him. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel, jaw tight enough to ache.
He'd promised himself he wouldn't lose control. Not again.
But the moment Sharon said his father's name, every wall he'd built inside him cracked.
Victor Langley.
Of course it had to be him.
When he finally pulled up outside Zion's apartment, the familiar calm of the place did little to ease him. Zion was already waiting by the window, curtains half open, morning light spilling across the room
"You come to my house too often now," Zion said, "That's not like you. Sit"
Zion said simply, not looking up right away as he poured two glasses of water. No whiskey, no pretense just water.
"I told you this was going to happen," Ace said finally, voice calm but edged. "They're making their move faster than expected."
