In his crossfire

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:*Into the fire*

Amara stared at herself in the mirror, momentarily unsure if she was staring at her reflection or someone else entirely.

The tight black off-shoulder crop top hugged her frame perfectly, paired with a high-slit, leather mini skirt that shimmered subtly under the bedroom light. Her long legs looked endless in the strappy heels Lila insisted she borrow, and her curls had been styled into a half-up look, giving her a soft but edgy vibe. Gold hoop earrings, dark eyeliner, and a cherry gloss finished the transformation.

“Girl…” Lila whistled from behind her, adjusting her own satin red bodycon dress that clung to her curves like a second skin. “Zayne won’t know what hit him.”

Amara rolled her eyes. “He’s not even supposed to be there.”

“And yet, he will be. Trust me.”

The party was already pulsing by the time they arrived. Lights flickered from the mansion windows, the bass from the music vibrating through the ground. Lila flashed a grin, dragging Amara in by the hand.

Inside was chaos—but the glamorous kind. Teenagers draped in expensive outfits, red cups in hand, dancing, flirting, and soaking in the thrill of freedom. The scent of perfume mixed with cologne, heat, and excitement.

Amara paused at the top of the staircase that led down into the main party room. A few heads turned. Then more. And then… she saw him.

Zayne.

He was leaning against the far wall, black shirt unbuttoned just enough to expose part of a tattoo on his chest. He was in conversation with a guy she didn’t recognize—until he looked up.

Their eyes locked.

His usual guarded expression cracked just slightly. Surprise, admiration, maybe even something softer flickered in his eyes. But then, like a switch, it was gone—replaced with a familiar cold stare. He looked away.

“You saw that, right?” Lila whispered.

“Yeah,” Amara replied, heart pounding.

As they descended into the crowd, Amara noticed Eli watching from across the room, red cup in hand, leaning casually by the bar. He smiled when he saw her—warm, inviting. Safe. She nodded back, grateful.

But even as Eli approached, her eyes flicked back to Zayne.

Eli offered her a drink. “You look incredible,” he said smoothly.

Before she could thank him, the lights suddenly dimmed further. A commotion erupted near the door.

Someone screamed.

The music stopped. Cups dropped.

A masked figure burst in, dressed in all black, breath ragged. “Everyone—GET DOWN!”

Panic erupted. People screamed, ducking, pushing, scrambling to hide.

Amara froze.

Zayne moved first—straight toward her, shoving past Eli. “Amara, come with me. Now.”

“What the hell is going on?” she asked, backing away.

“I said come with me!” Zayne’s tone was sharp, unrecognizable. He reached for her wrist just as Eli stepped between them.

“She’s with me,” Eli said coolly.

Zayne’s jaw twitched. “You don’t understand.”

Lights flickered again. A second masked figure entered—this one held something in his hand.

Zayne’s eyes darkened.

Then—gunshot.

Screams.

Amara dropped to the floor, heart racing, breath catching in her throat. She looked up just in time to see Zayne charge forward, tackling someone.

Then everything went black.

*To be continued…*

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