"You!"
Mira's voice exploded through the safe house, sharp enough to cut glass. It wasn't her usual soft tone, the one that made people lean in just to catch her words. No. This one cracked like a whip, bouncing off the bare walls and rattling through the half-broken windowpanes.
The room was a dump — old mattress in the corner, flickering bulb overhead, stale cigarette smoke hanging low like a permanent cloud. But her rage? Her rage filled it, made the space feel too small for all three of them.
Her hands balled into fists so tight her knuckles turned white. She lunged forward, eyes blazing like she wanted to set the whole damn place on fire.
"You absolute, despicable animal!"
The guy flinched, arms shooting up like he'd walked into an armed robbery. He expected her to cry, beg, break down. But Mira wasn't folding — she was coming for his throat.
And then… his face shifted. His eyes caught her movement already knowing where she was lunging for.
Her brow. The stubborn set of her jaw. The way her hair fell around her face, messy but strong, like she wasn't built to be tamed.
"Mira?" His voice cracked, the name spilling out half a question, half a prayer.
She swung, but his hands shot out, grabbing her wrists before she could land the hit. Her fist stopped inches from his chest, her breath hot, her eyes wild.
"Mira, wait! It's me. Levi."
Her body jerked still. That voice — low, shaky, familiar enough to drag her straight back to dusty chalkboards and cafeteria noise.
Her eyes narrowed, voice raw. "Levi? Levi Maxwell?" She yanked at her wrists, but his grip was steady. "Don't act like I wouldn't know. I clocked you from the second you walked in."
Her words were knives, slicing away at whatever warmth his name might've carried.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped, spitting every word like it left a bad taste. "You were with them."
Slowly, Levi let her go, palms open like he was proving he had nothing up his sleeves. His chest rose and fell, steadying himself.
"Yeah, it's me. And I know what this looks like. Shady as hell, right? But listen—" He dragged a hand through his hair, the same nervous tic she remembered from high school when he got put on the spot. "I swear, Mira. I didn't know it was you. If I had…" His words just… died there.
Mira's chest heaved, anger still there but shifting, twisting into something heavier. This wasn't just some faceless street soldier. This was Levi Maxwell. The tall, skinny boy who used to doodle in his notebook two rows ahead. The same kid who shoved Trevor into a locker when he tried to mess with her. The one who stayed up one night explaining numbers and formulas she could barely keep her eyes open for.
Now? He wasn't that kid anymore. He was harder, colder. His edges were sharp.
Her laugh almost slipped out, but it wasn't humor — it was disbelief.
Then Mrs. Maurice's voice cracked from the corner, shaking the moment.
"Mira… who is this? Isn't he… isn't he the man from the gang? The one who tried to hurt you?"
Her words cut through the haze like a bucket of ice water. Mira blinked, the high school flashbacks crumbling into dust. Reality was back, standing in front of her, wearing Levi's face.
Mira's jaw clenched. She looked from Mrs. Maurice to Levi, her eyes hard again.
Levi straightened, clearing his throat. Whatever softness was there before, it was buried now. "Ma'am, it's complicated. But what I can tell you is this: the men upstairs? They're still strapped. Still waiting. We don't have time to argue."
Mrs. Maurice crossed her arms, eyes sharp. "Including you. Don't think I've forgotten whose side you walked in on."
Mira's voice cut in flat, no room for feeling. "Levi Maxwell. Mrs. Maurice. Mrs. Maurice… Levi Maxwell." She threw the introduction out like she couldn't care less.
Mrs. Maurice gave him one stiff nod, lips pressed thin. "Fine. But don't expect me to trust you."
The silence after that was heavy. Outside, faint sirens wailed somewhere in the city, blending with the occasional shout echoing down the block. The kind of background noise that meant trouble wasn't far.
Levi exhaled, his voice dropping. "Alright. Here's the truth. My boss? He doesn't play. He sent me for the money he's owed. And I didn't know till tonight that the name tied to that debt… was yours."
Mira's laugh cracked out, bitter and sharp. "Money? Don't mess with me, Levi. I don't owe anybody sh*t."
His jaw tightened. "It's Will," he said, the name landing heavy. "Will Edwards. He owed big. My boss doesn't wait around. And to make it worse? He put it in your name."
Mira froze. The blood drained from her face.
Will.
Her boyfriend. The man who disappeared like smoke in the wind.
"Will?" Her voice broke, the word barely there. Then anger surged right back, hot and violent. "Of course. Of course. That coward. He ghosts me, and now I'm the one stuck with his trash?"
Levi's eyes softened, just for a breath. "From what I know? He's gone. Nobody knows where. Maybe hiding. But he ain't coming back."
Her stomach dropped. For months she'd held on to some fragile thread of hope — that she'd find him, that he'd answer for the wreckage he left behind. Now that thread snapped clean.
"So what does that mean?" she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper. "I gotta pay now?"
Levi didn't answer right away. That silence said more than any words could. Finally, he nodded.
"My boss doesn't care who brings the cash. He just wants it. I'll chip in what I can, but the rest? That's on you."
Mira's eyes widened, fury rushing through her veins. "Me? Are you kidding me right now? I didn't borrow a damn dime! This is his mess, not mine!"
Levi's face hardened, any trace of the boy she once knew fading out. His voice dropped, serious. "Mira, listen to me. I know it's unfair. But my boss knows your name. He knows your people. If you don't pay…" He leaned closer, his words slicing through the thick air. "Next time, it won't be me standing here."
The room went still. Heavy.
Mrs. Maurice gasped, her hand flying to her chest, her face pale.
And Mira? She stared at Levi, betrayal and fury tangling so tight inside her chest it hurt to breathe.
This wasn't a choice.
It wasn't even a deal.
It was a warning.
And she was stuck right in the middle.
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