CHAPTER 73

CHAPTER 73
Chapter 73
Kane's POV
“I still don’t get how you managed to untie yourself,” I said, tossing my jacket onto the armrest as Caroline stepped into the living room.

She gave me a look. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the sheer will to not die a horrific death?”

“Fair,” I murmured.

She flopped down onto the couch like she’d just run a marathon. Which—emotionally—she had.

“You okay?” I asked, crouching in front of her. My fingers brushed her knee.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Just… still processing. One minute I was tied to a chair about to bite someone’s junk off—”

“Successfully, I might add.”

She smirked. “—and the next, you and Kelly burst in like angry Avengers.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly make it easy for us to find you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You trying to blame me?”

“No. I’m trying to distract you.” I grabbed her hand. “Because if I stop talking, I might start yelling. Or pacing. Or punching something.”

Her lips parted, and for a second… I saw it. The weight, the fear. All swimming under her stubborn composure.

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again, Caroline.”

She blinked. “Scare you?”

I nodded. “You’re not disposable. You’re not a decoy. You’re not bait. You’re… you.”

“And what exactly is ‘me’ supposed to mean?” she asked, arching a brow.

I leaned in, resting my forehead against hers.

“You’re the girl who makes me lose sleep. Who makes me want to be better and worse at the same time.”

“That sounds unhealthy.”

“Very.”

She snorted, eyes softening. “Thanks for coming for me.”

“There was no version of reality where I wouldn’t.”

Then she did it.

That stupid, smug smile that always made me forget what I was mad about.

“You were worried about me,” she said, leaning back, stretching like a cat. “You probably couldn’t breathe without me.”

“You’re pushing it.”

“And now I’m here, on your couch, looking fabulous despite days of captivity. I mean—admit it—I look hot.”

I sighed. “Objectively? Yes.”

She grinned. “You hesitated.”

“I was weighing my options between flattery and survival.”

“Smart man.”

A beat passed. Then she added, “I saw the way you looked at me when you kicked the door down.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You looked like you were about to murder half the city.”

I nodded. “That’s because I was.”

Another beat.

Then she said softly, “You scared me too. But not in a bad way. Just… it made me realize something.”

I tilted my head. “What?”

“That I’ve never really felt this kind of safe. Not with anyone.”

I didn’t say anything.

I just reached up and cupped her cheek.

And then I kissed her.

Slow. Deep. Real.

When I pulled back, I whispered, “You’re safe now.”

Her lips hovered near mine. “Until the next disaster.”

I smirked. “Which is probably in a few hours.”

“Can’t wait.”

Caroline dozed off on the couch with her feet in my lap and a blanket half-draped over her. The TV was playing some old sitcom she put on “for background noise,” but now it was just talking to itself while she slept like she hadn’t just gone through hell.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t dare.

She deserved at least one night where no one was trying to kill her, hurt her, or use her as leverage.

I ran my thumb absentmindedly along her ankle, careful not to wake her. Her skin was warm, soft. Her breathing had finally steadied. And her face, which was so often sharp with sarcasm and stubbornness, was peaceful now.

I’d forgotten what she looked like when she wasn’t fighting the world.

“Why are you staring at me like I’m a painting?” she muttered without opening her eyes.

“Because paintings don’t snore,” I said.

Her eyes cracked open. “I do not snore.”

“You kind of do.”

She sat up slowly, fixing me with a mock-glare. “You lie for a living, Kane. I’m not taking this slander.”

I smirked. “You sound well-rested.”

“I feel like I got hit by an emotional bulldozer, but yeah, thanks for the nap.”

“You were twitching in your sleep.”

She paused. “Nightmares.”

I nodded. “Wanna talk about it?”

She leaned her head against my shoulder. “Not yet. Maybe later. Right now, I just wanna exist. Preferably with pizza.”

I blinked. “You want pizza?”

“I almost died. Multiple times. I think I deserve greasy, cheesy comfort food.”

“Fair enough.”

I reached for my phone and started scrolling.

“Pepperoni and jalapeños?” I asked.

“With pineapple,” she added.

I stared at her like she just committed a felony. “Pineapple?”

She gave me a smug little grin. “It’s a war crime, I know. But you’ll live.”

“I might not recover from this betrayal.”

She tucked her feet under her and pulled the blanket tighter. “You survived gunfire and kidnappings, Kane. You’ll survive my pizza toppings.”

“Barely.”

I ordered the damn pizza.

By the time I tossed the phone aside, she was watching me again, this time with a more serious look in her eyes.

“You’re staying with me tonight, right?” she asked.

I met her gaze. “You think I’m letting you out of my sight anytime soon?”

“No,” she said, voice soft. “But I needed to hear it anyway.”

I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she tilted her head.

“You remember when we first met?” she asked suddenly.

“In a coffee shop. You spilled iced mocha all over my shirt.”

“And you called me a ‘walking disaster’ under your breath.”

“You were a walking disaster.”

“And now look at me,” she said, voice light. “Thwarting kidnappers, biting off dicks—”

“You’re never living that down.”

She grinned.

I grinned back.

And in that moment, with the world quiet around us and nothing more pressing than a stupid pineapple pizza on the way, I realized…

This — her, here, alive, sarcastic, safe — this was the eye of the storm.

And I was going to protect it with everything I had.

Gina's POV
“You brought him here?” I hissed at Diane the moment Jayson walked past us and into the planning room like he owned the air we breathed.

“He’s useful,” she replied flatly, not looking up from her tablet. “And he wants the same thing we do.”

“No, Diane,” I whispered, stepping closer. “He wants Kane. He doesn’t care about the rest of us. He’s playing a long game, and we’re just pieces on the board.”

She finally looked up at me, those perfectly lined eyes unreadable. “Then let him play. Just make sure we play better.”

Jayson turned to us, that lazy, polished smirk stretching across his lips. “Ladies. Talking about me? I hope it’s flattering.”

I said nothing.

Diane stood. “You’re late.”

“I was confirming a few things. Robertson’s gone,” he said, sitting like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb. “Kelly pulled the trigger.”

My heart skipped. I looked at Diane. She stiffened, but her tone didn’t crack.

“And you’re sure?” she asked.

He nodded. “Saw the aftermath. Robertson's warehouse is gone. Police are all over it. Kane and Caroline survived.”

Diane’s mouth curled in disgust. “That girl has more lives than a cockroach.”

Jayson chuckled. “Well. Kane’s cockroach, then.”

My eyes narrowed. “So now what?”

He looked between us.

“Now,” he said smoothly, “we change the game. Kane and Kelly think they’re closing in on the truth. Let them think that. But while they’re busy chasing ghosts, we bleed them from the inside.”

“And what’s your plan, Jayson?” I asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He tilted his head, amused by my tone. “Gina. You’re clever. But don’t mistake bitterness for strength.”

“I’m not bitter,” I snapped. “I’m cautious. There’s a difference.”

He leaned closer to me. “Caution won’t save you when the knives come out.”

Diane stepped between us.

“Enough,” she said.

We both backed off.

“Gina,” Diane continued, her voice quieter. “You’ll work with Jayson. Closely. If Kane trusts you, then you’re our doorway into his circle. Exploit it.”

I tensed. “He doesn’t trust me.”

Jayson smiled. “But Caroline might still pity you. Use that.”

I hated how right he was.

Diane turned back to her tablet, fingers gliding over maps, blueprints, names. “Phase two starts now. I want a break-in at Kane’s safehouse within the next forty-eight hours. If you get Caroline, bring her alive. If not, leak something that’ll drag them out.”

I nodded slowly.

Jayson’s smile widened, but I could feel it—underneath that charm, there was rot.

And I was starting to wonder if he was planning to kill all of us the second we outlived our use.

Raymond's POV

She’s getting nervous. Gina.

Good.

I need them uneasy. Shaky.

Because chaos is easier to control than loyalty.

I left Diane’s lair around midnight, stepping into the night air like it belonged to me. My car waited at the edge of the private road. I slid into the driver’s seat and stared at the phone in my palm.

One name on the screen.

Reynolds.

I didn’t press call.

Not yet.

That bastard father of mine wanted me to bring Kane and Kelly to heel. Wanted me to make them allies.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

Kane was mine to kill.

Kelly… well.

Let’s just say I owed him something slower.

“Let the old man think I’m his loyal little prince,” I murmured to the night. “But the crown won’t be his.”

I looked at the photo tucked in my dashboard. A burn-marked picture of Jayson. My twin.

The one I killed.

“Rest easy, brother. I’m doing what you couldn’t.”