Chapter 21 I'LL BE SEEING YOU [FLASHBACK]

Chapter 21 I'LL BE SEEING YOU [FLASHBACK]
The first thing I saw was blood.

Not a lot—at first. Just a thin smear on the driveway, half-covered by someone’s bootprint, dark against the concrete like spilled wine.

Then I saw the body.

Matteo.

Lying sprawled on his side like a broken marionette. Arms twisted. Mouth half-open. That grotesque, glinting pinky ring still on his sausage-like finger. His shirt was soaked through with red, the color spilling into the snow like ruined paint.

I didn’t scream. My voice had already cracked too many times in the past twenty-four hours. It didn’t have the energy left for drama.

But my knees locked. My lungs refused to move. And for a long second, I couldn’t breathe.

There was another shape near the porch.

Vincent.

Face-down. Motionless.

I stumbled forward before my brain had time to make a decision. The sound of my boots crunching over gravel and frost was too loud, the silence of the house even louder. The front door stood ajar, a sliver of shadow inside.

“Steccy?” My voice came out strangled. “Steccy!”

I pushed the door open. The hinges creaked. The smell hit me first—gunpowder, metal, something burned. And cologne. Sharp. Clean. Expensive.

Too expensive.

The living room was chaos. One of the chairs was overturned, glass scattered like confetti from a broken picture frame. A vase had exploded on the floor. There was blood here too, splattered across the wall like someone had painted with rage.

And there—on the center of the rug—was Steccy.

On her knees.

Her hands were up. Shaking. Her lips moved but I couldn’t hear her.

And in front of her stood a man.

Black suit. Dark hair. Built like a soldier carved from marble. One gloved hand held a gun, relaxed at his side, like it weighed nothing.

The other was tucked into his coat pocket.

He didn’t notice me at first. Or maybe he did and just didn’t care.

But I noticed him.

Noticed the stillness in his shoulders. The terrifying calm in the way he stood there, not shouting, not twitching—just... waiting. Like violence was something that came too easily to him. Like he was used to being obeyed.

And then he turned.

Those eyes.

Gray. Cold. Icy enough to make my stomach clench, hot enough to burn through my skin in one sweep.

His gaze dragged over me like a knife deciding where to cut.

I froze.

Steccy turned too—her face stained with tears, mascara ruined. “Bree—don’t—don’t move.”

I already had.

One step forward. Then another. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. Maybe I wasn’t doing anything. Maybe my body was just moving because everything else inside me had stopped.

“I told you to stay put,” she hissed at me.

“I went to the bar,” I muttered, eyes still locked on the stranger. “Wasn’t exactly a girl scout meeting.”

The man looked between us. Then he holstered the gun.

Like we were no longer a threat. Like we’d never been.

His voice came low. Smooth. Ridiculously smooth. Like silk being pulled tight before it strangles you.

“So this is the sister.”

I blinked.

He walked toward me, slow and measured, each step sinking into the floor like a hunter stalking its prey. “Did you enjoy your night out, Miss…?”

His voice trailed off. Waiting for a name. A reaction. A reason to smile.

I gave him none.

He was too close. I smelled the scent now—warm leather, expensive bourbon, smoke, something faintly metallic under it all. It hit me like déjà vu, but darker.

“Back off,” I said, lifting my chin.

One brow arched. “Brave. Or stupid.”

I tilted my head. “Depends on what you plan to do about it.”

His smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “You talk like you’ve never bled before.”

“Try me.”

We stared at each other.

I didn’t win.

His smirk grew, amused now. “You don’t look like someone Steccy would trust with her life.”

“I’m not. She’s just bad at math.”

A small exhale—almost a laugh. Almost.

He turned back to Steccy. “So this is who you dragged into your mess.”

“She’s not part of this,” Steccy said quickly. “She’s—she just got caught up.”

He glanced at me again. “I doubt that.”

I swallowed. Hard.

“I didn’t ask for your name,” I snapped.

He shrugged off his coat. Underneath, the white of his dress shirt was stained red at the cuff. Like he’d wiped his hand clean and forgot to change.

“I didn’t offer it.”

He walked past me, tossed the coat over the back of the ruined sofa, then leaned forward and whispered something in Steccy’s ear.

I couldn’t hear the words. But whatever he said made her flinch.

She stood. Slowly. Eyes darting to me.

And that’s when he finally gave me a name.

Turning back, his hands in his pockets, his expression blank.

“Zade Solenzara.”

I didn’t move.

Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.

Zade Solenzara. That name hit harder than the blood still drying on the walls. And it echoed—inside my chest, inside the silence, inside whatever instinct in me still remembered what danger felt like.

He’d already turned his back once. A man who didn’t fear retaliation. A man who didn’t expect it.

Now he circled me.

Like I was the one on trial.

His steps were unhurried. His gaze, not in a rush. One hand in his pocket, the other loose at his side, fingers brushing his thigh like a habit. Like they missed holding a weapon.

He wasn’t scanning me. No. He was absorbing.

Taking inventory.

Calculating.

And God, he was beautiful.

Not in the conventional way. Not in the charming-boyfriend-meets-your-parents way.

Beautiful like a blade polished clean after war.

He moved behind me, and the warmth of his presence cut through the air like heat through snow. I felt his eyes on the nape of my neck. On the curve of my spine. My arms twitched to cross over my chest, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction.

Then his voice came. Soft. Too soft.

“You have a look that gets people in trouble.”

My pulse skipped. “Yeah?”

He stepped closer behind me. I could feel the buttons of his shirt nearly brush my back. My shoulders locked.

“You know you’re pretty, don’t you?”

I rolled my eyes. “God, you’re original.”

“I’m not trying to be.”

His voice curled at the edge, smooth but soaked in something darker.

“I’m just stating a fact.”

He moved again, coming around to my right side. I turned slightly, just enough to keep him in view. He stopped with a tilt of his head, taking me in like I was art at an auction and he already knew his bid would win.

“Pretty,” he repeated, lower this time. “But not delicate.”

His gaze flicked to my mouth, then dragged lower, over the tight dress Steccy forced me into, down to my bare legs and heels that were meant to seduce—not survive a mafia shootout.

“Sharp mouth. Mean eyes.”

He stepped in front of me now. One step. Close enough I had to tilt my head back to keep eye contact.

I did.

“You look like you bite.”

“Only when I’m bored.”

The edge of his mouth curled, lazy. Unbothered. That kind of grin men had when they thought they owned the ground they stood on. When they knew it.

“You’re not scared.”

“I’m just tired.”

He studied me for a long second. “Tired of running?”

“Tired of assholes with guns thinking the world owes them something.”

He didn’t blink. “And what do you think the world owes you, Aubrey?”

The sound of my name in his mouth—it knocked something loose. It shouldn’t have sounded like that. Like silk dragged across skin. Like control slipping.

“Nothing,” I said flatly.

Zade leaned in slightly, his voice grazing my skin. “Shame. I think it owes you a good time.”

I laughed once, dry and sharp. “This your idea of flirting?”

He looked me straight in the eye. “This is me deciding.”

I frowned. “Deciding what?”

“If you’re worth the trouble.”

My breath snagged in my throat.

Then he did it.

His fingers brushed my arm—barely a touch, but enough to shoot a current down every nerve I had left. He walked again, slow, circling me like I was prey and he was patient.

“Someone like you… shouldn’t be this interesting,” he said, almost to himself. “Shouldn’t be this messy. This wild under the surface.”

He stopped behind me once more, so close I felt the heat of him through the fabric of my dress.

“But here you are.”

I turned fast, sharp enough to nearly crash into his chest. I glared up at him, furious that he could unravel me without even trying.

“You done?”

Zade looked down at me, that grin ghosting back.

“Not even close.”

Then—he leaned in. His mouth beside my ear, the air from his words trailing down my neck.

“You’re pretty,” he whispered. “But what’s worse… you’re sexy enough to make smart men stupid.”

He pulled back. “Lucky for you, I’m not one of them.”

I stared, silent. My fists clenched at my sides.

He wasn’t touching me anymore. But I felt him everywhere.

“Stay away from me,” I muttered.

“I would,” he said. “If I believed you actually wanted that.”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

He stepped back then, just enough to let me breathe.

Just enough to let the world feel normal again—before he shattered it once more with a look over his shoulder.

“I’ll be seeing you, Aubrey.”

He turned.

And I stood frozen in place, chest rising, lungs burning.

Zade Solenzara had entered my life like a bullet wrapped in velvet.

And I hadn’t even seen him coming.