CHAPTER THIRTY
The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy of trees surrounding the secluded hideout. Inside, the air felt heavy, not with danger but with the weight of what had just transpired. Rafa sat at the edge of the sofa, a towel draped over his shoulders as he wiped the blood from his knuckles. Amara stood by the small kitchen counter, nervously fiddling with a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. Her thoughts churned as she replayed the chaotic events of the night before. “You’re awfully quiet,” Rafa said, breaking the silence. His voice was hoarse, laced with exhaustion. Amara glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Just... processing everything.” Rafa leaned back, the leather creaking under his weight. “You don’t have to worry about Xander anymore. He’s out of the picture—for n
- Writer
