---Dante---
Ashford City never truly slept.
Even on weekends—especially Fridays—the streets buzzed with life. Horns blaring, engines humming, and sirens slicing through the air like warnings from the city itself.
I stood on the rooftop of one of our smaller buildings downtown, cigarette between my fingers, watching the sky.
It had been two weeks since the club incident.
Two weeks since I'd laid eyes on Raven.
I told myself it was for the best. Keep my distance. Focus on business. Get her out of my system.
But who the hell was I kidding?
I hadn't stopped watching her. Not for a damn second.
From the shadows. From rooftops. Through Vortex's CCTV feeds—because as the silent owner, I had access to everything. Every camera. Every floor. I saw her.
I watched her walk the halls, shoulders squared, head down, like she was holding herself together with threadbare string. Like she was just waiting to snap back into the shell she once lived in.
She spoke to Dan almost every time.
That guy again.
Every time he smiled at her like he had a shot, my jaw clenched. He lingered. He hovered. And the worst part? She smiled back. A real one.
That smile? That shit made my blood run hot.
Luca checked him out. Clean record. No skeletons. Just a boring, average tech guy.
But to me? He was committing a damn felony just by being near her.
My phone buzzed.
Luca: Target moved. Same car. Parked near Vortex again. Might be scouting.
The black suv we'd been tailing for days had returned. Someone had eyes on Raven—and not in a casual way. This was on purpose. Methodical.
They weren't just watching her apartment.
They were watching her.
Whether it was because she offended a dangerous organisation, or something from her past but she doesn't seem like she could do anything dangerous anyways—I didn't care.
I'd burn the city to the ground before I let anyone touch her.
I exhaled smoke through my nose, crushed the cigarette beneath my boot, and made my way to the alley where my bike was parked.
Enough was enough.
Time for action.
—
An hour later, it was handled. Quietly. Efficiently.
Luca was interrogating the two men who were in the car.
They wouldn't be a problem anymore.
I parked my bike across the street from Vortex, engine still humming low as I watched the building's entrance. The motion-sensor lights blinked above the lot, casting soft shadows.
And then she walked out.
Hoodie. Bag slung over her shoulder. Hair tied back.
My breath hitched.
She could've been wearing a potato sack and still make my heart stall.
I rubbed a hand over my jaw.
Maybe I just needed to get laid.
But then Dan appeared.
Again.
He walked her to her car, like a smug bastard playing knight in shining armor. He handed her something, and she laughed. A soft, genuine sound.
I gripped the throttle tighter, fingers flexing.
She moved like she was trying to blend in, but I noticed the little things—the way her head turned slightly, the tension in her shoulders.
She knew someone was watching her.
She just didn't know who it was .
She drove downtown. I followed at a safe distance.
Eventually, she slipped into a small bookstore café—the cozy kind with yellow lights, the smell of old pages, and barely anyone inside.
Smart girl.
I parked two blocks away and entered from the back. The owner owed me. He didn't ask questions.
She was tucked in a corner booth. Hoodie half-up, headphones on, fingers flying across her laptop. Focused. Probably digging into that strange ping from earlier—I'd asked to have her investigate the case , using Luca as a buffer.
She didn't see me.
I just stood there, letting the sight of her calm something violent in me.
I told myself I'd walk away after a minute.
But Raven Voss was like a glitch I couldn't debug. One I didn't want to fix anymore.
Eventually, I left through the back and called Ethan.
"She's in a café. Quiet place downtown. Keep eyes on her for me," I said, dropping a pin.
Ethan didn't ask questions. Not after what happened with Ben. The last guy I had watching her crossed a line—now he was sweating through training in Siberia base with the worst of the worst instructor. I made sure of it.
I rode through the city, cutting through alleys and dead roads until I reached her neighborhood.
I parked a few houses down from hers.
Slipped out a key, I had my ways of getting things I need.
A jammer in my other hand blocked all CCTV and home security.
The moment I stepped inside, citrus and lavender hit me.
Her.
It smelled like her.
Her home was neat. Soft. Warm. I climbed the stairs—two bedrooms. The first one I entered smelled like her even more.
The bed was messy, inviting.
I sat on it. Groaned. It was too soft. Too comforting.
I buried my face into the pillow. Her scent clung to it—fresh linen, citrus, and something sweet. The kind of scent that lingered in your mind long after someone was gone.
I didn't mean to fall asleep.
Just for a minute, I told myself.
Just a damn minute.
But the softness pulled me in, and the exhaustion I'd been ignoring all week crashed over me like a wave.
My eyes slipped shut. Her warmth everywhere. I let go.
Darkness.
Silence.
Click.
A door creaked.
I jolted up.
Footsteps. Inside the house.
And then—
"...I swear I locked that door..."
Her voice.
Raven. My little storm.
She was home.
---