Chapter6
1115 Words
Ava didn’t say a word.
Not to Nico. Not to Enzo. Not even to herself.
Because deep down, her silence was the answer. Her heart had already made the decision. But her mind wasn’t ready to let it become real.
Nico watched her, eyes dark with something unreadable. He didn’t stop her. He didn’t say a thing as she turned away from him and walked out of that office like it hadn’t just marked a turning point in her life.
She passed Enzo on the way out. He stepped aside but didn’t hide the glint of judgment in his eyes. She could almost hear his thoughts: She’s not built for this.
Maybe he was right.
The hall seemed longer on the way back. Colder. Her boots echoed against the stone floor until the front door shut behind her and the city air hit her like a slap. She paused at the curb, her breath visible in the cool night. Her fingers curled around the sleek black card still in her pocket.
She didn’t throw it away.
Didn’t have the courage.
But she didn’t take it out again, either.
She made it to her shift at the bar the next evening, same as always. She even clocked in a few minutes early, like routine could somehow save her from unraveling.
Inside, it smelled like stale beer and lemon cleaner. The jukebox played the same tired playlist. And for a moment, she let herself pretend none of it had changed.
Until Marlo looked up from counting the till and saw her.
His expression froze.
Not like a man seeing a ghost—more like someone spotting a ticking bomb.
“Ava,” he said quietly, nodding.
She nodded back and reached for her apron.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low but urgent. “You—you look like something’s following you.”
She forced a smile. “Just a long night. I’m fine.”
But Marlo didn’t believe her. He didn’t press, either. Just gave her a look that said he wasn’t sure if she’d come back out of this shift alive.
Ava kept her head down. Poured drinks. Took tips. Restocked glasses. But every time someone walked through the door, her heart jumped into her throat. She kept glancing out the front window, convinced something—or someone—was watching her.
At one point, she ducked behind the bar to grab extra napkins and glanced through the back alley door.
That’s when she saw it.
A black SUV.
Parked half in shadow, headlights off. Windows tinted. Engine running.
She froze.
It didn’t move. Didn’t honk. Didn’t flash its lights.
It just waited.
She turned away quickly and pretended not to notice, but her hands were shaking.
By the time the end of her shift rolled around, the SUV was gone. Or so she thought.
She changed out of her apron, grabbed a trash bag from the back, and slipped out the side door to the alley.
The cold slapped her across the face.
She walked toward the dumpster, boots crunching gravel, and that’s when she heard the engine again.
Slow. Soft.
Same SUV.
It had circled to the back.
She dropped the trash and stepped back toward the door, heart pounding.
The passenger window rolled down—and she instinctively reached for something, anything, even though she had no weapon.
But the man inside didn’t reach for her.
He just gave her a look. Not a threat—more like a warning.
Nico’s men.
They weren’t hiding anymore.
They were watching her.
Not hurting her. Not helping her. Just keeping her in sight.
She stared at them for a few seconds, then turned her back and walked inside like she hadn’t seen them at all. She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.
But she felt them there.
Like shadows that didn’t move unless she did.
Later that night, Ava walked home.
She told Marlo she’d be fine. Turned down his offer to call her a car. The streets weren’t too busy, and she needed the air to think.
Everything in her life felt unreal—like she was stuck between two worlds and didn’t belong to either.
She passed a row of shuttered shops. A couple arguing across the street. A dog barking in the distance.
Then came the footsteps.
At first, they were faint. Echoing hers, but not in rhythm. A bit too slow. A bit too careful.
She glanced back.
A man, maybe six feet tall, wearing a dark hoodie. His face was turned away, but he wasn’t bothering to look casual.
She picked up her pace.
So did he.
She crossed the street.
So did he.
Panic rose in her chest. She reached into her jacket for her phone, but before she could unlock it—
POP!
A gunshot split the silence.
Ava dropped to the sidewalk with a cry, rolling behind a parked car. Her ears rang. She could smell smoke.
The man had fired at her—no warning, no words.
She looked up just in time to see headlights flood the street.
The black SUV.
Two men jumped out before it fully stopped. One tackled the shooter, the other grabbed Ava’s arm and pulled her up.
“Come on!” he shouted.
“I—what the hell—” she started, but he didn’t let go.
Bullets hit the car as the SUV doors slammed shut around them. They peeled off down the road, tires screeching, the shooter left behind in the darkness.
Ava sat in the backseat, shaking.
The man next to her didn’t say anything. Just kept an eye on the rearview as the driver took a series of tight turns.
They didn’t take her home.
They took her back to Nico.
It was after 1 a.m. when they pulled up to a different building. Not the club. Not the bar.
The warehouse, dimly lit from the inside.
Nico stood by the window, sleeves rolled up, cigarette burning between his fingers.
He turned as she entered.
“Still think you’re safer out there?” he asked, voice calm but sharp.
Ava opened her mouth—but no words came out.
She had nothing to argue with. She’d nearly been killed ten minutes ago. If Nico’s men hadn’t been tailing her…
She’d be dead.
He stepped closer, eyes locked on hers.
“You’ve seen what happens when you’re neutral, Ava. The world doesn’t leave you alone. It comes for you anyway.”
She didn’t speak. Just stared back, breath shallow.
Nico stubbed out his cigarette and nodded slightly.
“Tell me,” he said, voice dropping, “have you changed your mind yet?”
- Writer
