Chapter 48 Suspicion
Aiyana's P.O.V
Suspicion was a quiet thing that didn't arrive screaming or armed with proof.
It seeps in slowly, settles in your chest like a weight you can’t quite identify, and no matter how hard you try to shake it off, it refuses to leave.
That was how it started with Gerald.
I didn’t want to think it.
I hated myself for even allowing the thought to exist. Gerald had been my friend. The awkward, teasing, sometimes inappropriate, but still someone who had protected me, trained me, laughed with me. Someone who had stood between me and danger more than once.
Someone who had looked at me with something that felt like affection.
But as the house trembled from the explosion and Jerome dragged me into safety, that thought crept into my mind uninvited.
Who else knew the house like this?
Who else had access?
Who else had been acting… different?
I squeezed my eyes shut.
No.
It couldn’t be him.
The underground safe corridor was cold, the lights harsh and unforgiving.
Jerome paced like a caged animal, barking orders into his phone, his voice clipped and lethal. Men moved in and out, carrying weapons, information, and fear.
I sat on the edge of a steel bench, knees pulled to my chest, trying to quiet the storm inside my head.
But the thought wouldn’t leave.
When Jerome finally noticed me, really noticed me, it was because I hadn’t moved in a long time.
“Aiyana.” I heard his voice call from a distance, as I got lost in my thoughts.
His voice cut through the noise.
I flinched.
He was in front of me in seconds, crouching down so we were eye level, his hands warm as they framed my face. His thumb brushed under my eye, wiping away moisture I hadn’t realized had escaped.
“You’re shaking” he said quietly. “What is it?”
I opened my mouth.
Closed it again.
The words felt dangerous. Like once spoken, they could never be taken back.
“Aiyana” he repeated, firmer this time. “Talk to me.”
I swallowed. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
“There’s something…” My voice cracked. I took a breath and tried again. “There’s something I can’t stop thinking about.”
His expression softened, just a fraction. “Then think it out loud.”
I hesitated.
“What if I’m wrong?” I whispered. “What if I say it and it changes everything?”
Jerome didn’t pull his hands away. If anything, he leaned closer. “If you’re afraid to say it, it matters.” He urged, placing a hand softly in my cheeks, kissing them lightly as he spoke and it immediately dissolved whatever thoughts I had against speaking up.
“What if Gerald is involved?” I asked, looking at him like I was winking. One eye open and the other shut as I knew very well that it was touchy.
The words fell between us like glass shattering.
For a moment, just a moment, Jerome went completely still.
Then he straightened slowly, his hands dropping from my face. Not angrily. Not roughly. Just… deliberately.
“No.” said flatly, shaking his head as he did.
The certainty in his voice startled me.
“I know it sounds crazy.” I rushed on, panic flooding my chest. “I don’t want to believe it either. I just, he’s been acting strange, and he knows the house, and the dungeon routes, and…”
“No.” Jerome repeated, sharper now.
He stood fully, towering over me, not in threat but in resolve.
“That’s not possible.” He said firmly with his eyes expressing the impossibility I just spoke out loud.
I stared up at him with confusion twisting with fear as I hadn't seen him so hysterical. “Jerome…”
“He’s not your enemy,” he said, cutting me off. “And he’s not mine.”
“I know, but…” I started but he cut me off again, his mind fully rejecting that it was possible.
“He’s my brother.” Jerome snapped, then immediately exhaled, forcing himself to calm down. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping in front of me again.
“You don’t understand.” He said, voice lower now. “Gerald is the only family I have left.”
That made my chest ache.
“I lost everyone…” He continued. “My parents, my sister, her husband. Everyone who ever shared my blood. The world took them from me piece by piece.” He spoke, and with every word, his eyes went red with pain.
He looked away briefly, as if the memory still burned too bright. Unsaid nothing and just allowed him speak, as it was rare that he spoke so much about anything.
“When I had nothing.” He said.
“When I was just trying to survive, Gerald was there. He bled with me, starved with me. He fought beside me when there was no gang, no empire, just two boys who refused to die.”
I’d never heard him talk like this.
Never heard his voice tremble so faintly, my heart broke.
“He saved my life more times than I can count, and I saved his. We built this together, every wall, every rule, every safeguard.” Jerome went on.
He turned back to me, eyes intense. “You think he would destroy everything we built?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again.
“I know he’s been… inappropriate.” Jerome admitted reluctantly. “I know he crossed lines with you, and I’ve dealt with that.” He said and immediately, I remembered the cold fury in Jerome’s eyes whenever Gerald got too close.
“But betrayal?” Jerome shook his head. “No. He would die before doing that to me.”
The conviction in his voice scared me almost as much as the explosion.
“I don’t want it to be him.” I whispered. “I swear I don’t. I just…something feels wrong.” I said, also hating that I was suggesting it myself.
Jerome’s gaze softened slightly as he looked at me again. He crouched back down, resting his forearms on his knees.
“You’re scared, and after what you’ve been through, your instincts are on high alert. That doesn’t mean they’re wrong, but it also doesn’t mean they’re right." He said gently, and so convincing, I started to doubt my thoughts.
I nodded, tears stinging my eyes.
“I feel horrible for even thinking it,” I admitted. “He was my friend. He helped me. And now I’m sitting here wondering if…”
Jerome reached out again, this time pulling me into his chest. His arms wrapped around me, solid and grounding.
“You’re allowed to be afraid,” He murmured into my hair. “But you’re not allowed to carry this alone.”
I clung to him, breathing in the familiar scent of gun oil and something darker, something that had become safety to me despite everything.
“Listen to me,” he said softly. “Whoever did this knows my systems. Knows my habits. That doesn’t mean it’s Gerald.”
“Who else could it be?” I asked quietly.
Jerome’s arms tightened just slightly.
“Someone who’s been watching,” he said. “Someone patient. Someone who wants me destabilized.”
His jaw hardened. “Someone who wants you gone.”
My stomach dropped.
“I wo
n’t let that happen,” he added immediately. “I don’t care who it is, but I'll find them, even if it means tearing down this place brick by brick.”