Chapter 4

The next evening, my world completely shattered when I went downstairs to check my mail.

In the parking lot below, three Latino men were standing around my car. They were built like bodybuilders, with snake tattoos covering their arms—definitely not the kind of guys you'd want to meet in a dark alley. The second they saw me come out of the stairwell, they stopped talking and all turned to look at me.

My heart dropped.

One of them said something fast in Spanish to the others. My phone's translation app kicked in, showing me what they'd said on the screen—something Kai must have installed.

"That's her. Boss says to take her alive."

My legs started shaking.

They began walking toward me, taking their time like they had all day. I didn't stick around to see what they wanted—I turned and ran back upstairs as fast as I could.

I could hear them cursing in Spanish behind me, their footsteps echoing in the stairwell, but I didn't look back.

I burst into my apartment, slammed the door, and locked every deadbolt. Then I crept to the window to look down.

More cars had shown up. Black SUVs with tinted windows, like something out of a mob movie. I counted at least four vehicles, and I really didn't want to think about what that meant.

"They actually came..." My voice was barely a whisper.

"El Serpiente doesn't make empty threats."

I spun around. Kai was standing behind me—I hadn't even heard him come in. His face was dead serious, those dark eyes filled with something that made my stomach clench.

"They want revenge for their dead boss," he said, moving to the window to check the situation below. "At least twenty guys down there. All armed."

"Why?" I felt like I was drowning. "I left that life behind! I just want to be left alone!"

Kai looked at me, and for a second, something flickered across his face. "To them, you're a loose end. Dead people can't testify."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I sank onto the couch, feeling dizzy.

Then things got worse.

Kai started bringing in luggage—black cases, one after another, like he was moving in permanently.

"You can't just move in here!" I jumped up, trying to block his path.

"Would you rather be dead or alive?" His voice was calm, but that tone—the one that said arguing was pointless—brought back every nightmare from three years ago.

"How is this any different from before?" My voice cracked. "I'm still your prisoner!"

Kai stopped what he was doing and turned to face me. Something complicated crossed his expression, like he was fighting with himself.

"The difference is I'm protecting you this time, not holding you captive."

"Feels the same to me," I said bitterly, though even I could hear how defeated I sounded.

He didn't answer. Instead, he started setting up equipment around my apartment—security cameras, motion sensors, gadgets I couldn't even identify. Each one was a reminder that my freedom was gone again.

"You'll understand eventually," he said quietly.

That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Kai was on the living room couch, but I knew he wasn't sleeping. I could feel him out there, alert and dangerous, ready for anything.

I couldn't live like this again.

I waited until his breathing sounded steady. Then I slipped out of bed and headed for the balcony.

Three years ago, I'd escaped from this same balcony. Time to try again.

I tied bedsheets together and secured them to the railing. My heart was pounding as I climbed down, but the need to get away kept me moving.

The moment my feet hit the ground, I knew I'd screwed up.

Three shadows stepped out from behind parked cars, surrounding me. In the dim light, I could see guns tucked into their waistbands.

"Nowhere to run now, little mouse," one said in heavily accented English.

I wanted to scream, but terror had stolen my voice. One of them pulled out a knife that gleamed in the moonlight.

That's when a shadow dropped from above.

Kai moved faster than I'd ever seen anyone move. In seconds, all three men were on the ground. They weren't getting back up.

"Wrong neighborhood," his voice was ice cold.

I stood there frozen, staring at the bodies. I could smell blood in the air, and it made me want to throw up.

"How did you know I'd try to escape?" I demanded once we were back upstairs.

Kai was washing blood off his hands at the kitchen sink, his movements careful and practiced. He looked tired—not physically, but like something was weighing on him.

"Because I know you," he paused and met my eyes. "You never just give up."

"Then why not lock me up like before?" The question had been eating at me.

He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn't answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than I'd ever heard it.

"Because I'm tired of you looking at me like I'm a monster."

His words caught me completely off guard. This wasn't the Ghost I remembered—the cold, ruthless killer. There was something vulnerable in what he'd just said, something almost... human.

I was about to respond when I noticed he was favoring his left arm. There was a fresh cut on his forearm, still bleeding slowly.

"You're hurt," I said, surprised by the concern in my own voice.

"It's nothing," he brushed it off, but I saw him wince.

I stood there watching this complicated man. Three years ago, he was my worst nightmare. Now he was getting hurt trying to protect me.

What the hell was happening? What did he really want from me?