The night city glowed like a restless beast, neon bleeding across the wet streets. Kai sat stiffly in the backseat of the black car, arms crossed, refusing to look at the man beside him. Lucias radiated silence, but the kind that pressed against the skin—weighted, dangerous.
The car slowed. Mark, at the wheel, kept his gaze locked on the mirrors. "Something feels off."
Kai almost scoffed. "Feels off? You people live in the dictionary definition of off."
Lucias's sharp gaze flicked to him, cold enough to freeze. "Shut up."
But before Kai could spit a reply, the night erupted.
Gunfire cracked against the car. Glass shattered. The driver's-side window blew apart as bullets tore through the frame. Mark swerved hard, tires screeching against slick asphalt.
"Down!" Lucias barked, already shoving Kai flat across the seat.
Kai's heart thundered. His ears rang with the sharp percussion of gunfire. He wasn't built for this. Hackers didn't dodge bullets. Hackers stayed behind screens, safe, untouchable.
But tonight, the rival mafia had decided otherwise.
Lucias drew his gun smoothly, leaned out the broken window, and fired. His movements were precise, controlled. A shadow of fire in human skin.
Kai risked a glance—saw masked men darting from alleyways, rifles flashing orange.
"Who the hell are they?" Kai hissed.
"Rival syndicate," Lucias snapped, firing again. "They must have traced my routes. Or… maybe they traced you."
Kai froze. "Me?!"
"This isn't the time to argue."
Bullets screamed past. Mark swung the car into a narrow side street, but a black van blocked the path. More men spilled out, weapons gleaming in the streetlight.
Lucias cursed under his breath. "Out. Now."
Kai gawked. "Are you insane?!"
Lucias grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him out into the chaos. Mark moved like a blade in the dark, his gun steady, eyes narrowed. He fired with deadly precision, each shot dropping another attacker.
Kai stumbled, half pulled, half shoved against a brick wall. His breath came sharp, ragged, panic clawing at him. But Lucias stood firm in front of him, a shield of iron and fire.
For the first time, Kai realized—Lucias wasn't just a crime lord. He was a warrior.
A bullet tore past, grazing Lucias's shoulder. He hissed, staggering slightly. Blood darkened his black shirt.
Kai's eyes widened. "You're hit!"
"Stay down," Lucias ordered, raising his gun again.
But something inside Kai snapped. He wasn't just going to crouch here and watch the man bleed out—not when he could do something.
A fallen attacker's weapon lay close, glinting in the gutter. Kai lunged for it before he could think. His fingers closed around the cold metal, clumsy but determined.
"Kai!" Lucias barked.
Kai lifted the weapon with shaking hands. He wasn't trained, but he'd seen enough to know which end to point. When another masked man charged, Kai squeezed the trigger. The kickback nearly wrenched his arm from its socket, but the bullet struck true—knocking the man off his feet.
Lucias's head snapped toward him, eyes blazing. For a heartbeat, they locked stares—fire and ice colliding in the middle of a storm.
Kai's chest heaved. "I'm not useless."
Lucias's lips curved into something between fury and… admiration. "Reckless bastard."
The fight ended as quickly as it began. Between Lucias's ruthless precision and Mark's deadly calm, the attackers lay scattered, the night eerily quiet once more.
Kai's arms trembled as he lowered the gun. His ears still rang, adrenaline roaring through him. He was alive. Too alive.
Lucias grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against the wall—not in anger, but raw intensity.
"What the hell were you thinking?!" His voice was low, dangerous, shaking with something Kai had never heard before. Fear.
Kai glared back, refusing to flinch. "I was thinking I didn't want to die on the pavement while you played hero."
Lucias's hand tightened on his collar. "You could have been killed."
Kai's pulse hammered. Lucias was so close. The heat of his body, the sharp scent of smoke and blood, the fire in his eyes—it was suffocating.
"Better than being caged," Kai muttered, his voice unsteady.
For a moment, Lucias didn't speak. His gaze burned, devouring Kai whole. And then—abruptly—he released him, turning away, shoving his gun back into its holster.
"Mark. Get the car."
Mark was already there, silent, efficient. But when his eyes flicked toward Jas—who had rushed from the shadows, having followed Kai despite being told to stay away—something shifted.
"Jas!" Kai exclaimed, relief flooding his voice. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
Jas's eyes were wide, filled with fear. But their hand reached instinctively toward Kai's arm, checking him over for injuries. "You could've been killed."
Kai's throat tightened, guilt and relief twisting in him.
Mark, standing a few feet away, watched silently. His gaze lingered on Jas's trembling hands, their unguarded concern. Something in his chest ached—an unfamiliar crack in his stone armor.
---
The car roared back to life. Lucias slid in, Kai shoved beside him, Jas and Mark across.
Silence pressed down heavy. The only sound was the hum of the engine and the ragged breaths still catching in Kai's throat.
Lucias finally spoke, voice low, dangerous. "This changes everything. They came for you, Kai. Which means you're not just an inconvenience anymore."
Kai stiffened. "What do you mean?"
Lucias's dark eyes met his, burning with something deeper than anger. "You're a target."
The words dropped like a blade.
Kai's hands clenched in his lap, pulse racing. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready for any of this.
And yet, some dangerous part of him knew—there was no turning back now.
---