Chapter 169
Chapter 169
Chapter 169
Shackles and Shorelines
Alex’s POV
The ropes burned into my wrists until I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore. Blood ran sticky and warm down my arms, dripping onto the filthy floor. Every time I shifted, the coarse fibers cut deeper, reminding me that I was nothing but prey caught in their trap.
Luke leaned against the wall, arms folded, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. The same lips that once whispered promises of friendship. I wanted to laugh at myself, but my ribs hurt too much.
His father’s presence filled the room like smoke. Calm. Controlled. Deadly. His eyes pinned me like a specimen under glass.
“Where is the key?” he asked, his voice steady, deliberate, as though this was just business.
I swallowed, my throat raw, the metallic taste of blood still on my tongue. “I told you I don’t know anything about a key.”
A sharp sting exploded across my jaw before I even saw Luke move. My head snapped to the side, stars bursting in my vision.
“Liar,” Luke spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You flinch every time I say the word. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
I coughed, my chest burning, and forced out a broken laugh. “Maybe I flinch because you sound like a broken record.”
Luke’s father’s smile widened faintly. “Defiant. Interesting. But defiance doesn’t last long in this room.”
Luke’s fist slammed into my ribs again, and this time I couldn’t hold back the scream. Pain ripped through me, curling my body forward, but the ropes yanked me back in place. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps.
I wanted to give up. Just close my eyes and let go. But something deep inside whispered: Not like this. Not to him.
\---
Andrian’s POV
From the shadows outside the warehouse, I heard his scream. It tore through me, raw and jagged, as though it split my chest open.
I clenched my fists until my knuckles cracked. My men crouched low around me, weapons ready, waiting for my order. The air reeked of oil and rust, heavy with the stink of men who thought themselves untouchable.
But no one touched Alex. Not like this.
“On my mark,” I murmured, my voice low, steady.
Through a crack in the boards, I saw Luke strike him again, saw Alex’s body jerk under the blow. My heart clenched. His face was pale, bruised, blood streaking down his skin, but still, he didn’t yield.
Why? Why did he keep fighting when the world had done nothing but break him?
I hated the answer that surfaced inside me: because it was the same flame I once admired in him.
I raised my hand. “Now.”
The doors burst inward with a crash of splintering wood. My men swarmed in, guns spitting fire, their shouts echoing through the chamber. Bullets ripped through the air, screams rising from Luke’s guards as they fell.
I didn’t wait. I stepped into the storm, my pistol steady, each shot precise. Blood splattered across the cracked walls.
Luke’s father barked an order, dragging Luke toward the back exit. My bullet tore through the air, missing them by inches as they disappeared into the night. Rage burned in my chest, but I couldn’t chase, not yet.
Not while he was still here.
Alex.
He sat slumped in the chair, head bowed, wrists raw and bleeding against the ropes. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts. For a second, I froze. He looked so small, so breakable, like one touch might shatter him completely.
I forced myself forward, ripping the ropes loose with a knife.
\---
Alex’s POV
The ropes gave way, and I slumped forward into arms that caught me before I hit the ground.
Strong arms. Familiar.
“Andrian…” I whispered, my voice hoarse, broken.
“Shut up,” he muttered, but his tone wasn’t harshl, it was tight, painful, like he didn’t know how to hold me without breaking himself.
I felt myself being lifted, cradled against his chest like I weighed nothing. His coat brushed against my face, smelling faintly of smoke and sea salt. My eyelids fluttered, heavy as stone, but part of me clung to the warmth of him.
“Why?” I managed to whisper. “Why save me?”
His jaw tightened. I felt it against the top of my head. “Because I couldn’t watch them destroy you.”
My vision blurred, tears stinging unbidden. Maybe it was the pain. Maybe it was him.
I let myself drift into the darkness of exhaustion, safe, for now, in his hold.
\---
Andrian’s POV
His body was limp in my arms, fragile, his breathing uneven. My men cleared the warehouse, dragging the dead into shadows, covering our tracks. But I wasn’t thinking about that.
All I could think about was the blood staining my shirt where his head rested, the way he whispered my name like it was the only anchor he had left.
My chest ached in ways I didn’t understand. I shouldn’t feel this. Whatever was between us belonged to the past. I had buried it long ago. And yet, holding him now, I wanted nothing more than to keep him safe, even from himself.
I carried him out into the night, where the sea wind bit cold against my skin. The van waited, black and sleek, headlights cutting through the dark.
“Where to, boss?” one of my men asked.
“The house by the beach,” I said without hesitation.
As the van sped down the coastal road, waves crashing faintly in the distance, I kept my gaze on Alex’s bruised face, the shadows of pain carved deep into it.
I told myself it was a strategy. Protect him, keep him alive, until I got what I needed.
But when his fingers curled faintly against my shirt in his half-conscious state, I knew I was lying to myself.
I didn’t just want him alive.
I wanted him whole.
The waves roared louder as the van approached the secluded beach house. And as I carried Alex inside, laying him gently on the bed, I realized something that made my chest tighten, this wasn’t just about the key anymore.
It never was about the keys, it was about love.
From rivals, foes, to a flame of love burning brightly between us.