Chapter 19
1713 Words
Aurelia sat across from Wyatt at the most expensive table in one of the city’s newest restaurants. The chandelier above her glittered like frozen stars, the clinking of crystal and silverware a symphony of wealth she found increasingly hollow.
Wyatt was grinning as usual, smug behind his perfectly tailored suit and slicked-back hair. His eyes scanned her like she was something to be mounted on a trophy shelf.
“You clean up real nice,” he said, swirling his wine. “You look like you belong right next to me, baby girl.”
Aurelia forced a sweet smile. “Thank you.”
She wasn’t sure how long she could keep the mask on.
He leaned in, voice low and cocky. “You ever think about what it’d be like—runnin’ this city at my side? You’d never need anything. No more paperwork at your daddy’s office. No more scraping pennies for charity galas. Just power.”
Aurelia tilted her head, playing the part. “What would I have to do?”
Wyatt smirked. “Just be mine.”
His hand brushed against hers. She resisted the urge to flinch.
Instead, she asked gently, “And all this… power? How do you keep it? How do you stop people from… challenging you?”
He grinned wider. “Simple. Fear.”
Then he kept talking, like he always did—arrogant and loud. He mentioned the dock shipments, hinted at a new weapon cache arriving, bragged about owning the police captain on the south side.
Aurelia tucked the information away behind her smile and wine sips, keeping her heart steady.
---
Across town, the docks were chaos.
Gunfire erupted like firecrackers in the night.
Lamar kicked in a door and tossed a Molotov cocktail into the warehouse, flames lighting the darkness in flickering orange bursts.
Shaun ducked behind crates, providing cover, while Dwight let out an unhinged laugh as he sent another explosion roaring through the far storage unit.
DJ moved like a shadow—precise, cold, fearless.
He dropped two of Wyatt’s guards before they even realized he was there. One tried to run, but DJ tackled him into a stack of barrels, knocking the man out cold with a brutal elbow to the face.
“Aron!” DJ called out.
“I’m good,” Aron shouted, but then a sharp bang echoed through the air.
DJ turned in time to see Shaun stumble back, clutching his shoulder.
“s**t!”
DJ dove toward him, dragging him behind a stack of crates. “Stay down!”
“I’m fine,” Shaun grunted through gritted teeth. “Just a scratch.”
“You get him out of here!” DJ barked to Lamar.
Lamar nodded and hoisted Shaun up with ease, covering him as they slipped into the alley behind the docks.
DJ stood, wiping blood from his brow, heart pounding.
The message had been sent.
---
Back in the car, Wyatt leaned back in the seat with one hand on the wheel and the other on Aurelia’s thigh.
“I had a good time tonight,” he said, voice low and hungry. “Did you?”
Aurelia’s mouth went dry. “It was… interesting.”
Wyatt’s hand slid higher. “I’ve been patient with you, y’know. Most girls would’ve been begging me for a second date.”
“I—Wyatt, I think we should take things slow—”
He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t play coy with me, baby girl. You wore that dress on purpose.”
Aurelia’s heart thundered in her chest.
She tried to shift away, but he moved faster, lips brushing her cheek as he leaned in harder.
Then a sharp knock on the window broke the tension.
One of Wyatt’s men stood outside, panting. “Boss—we got hit again. The docks.”
Wyatt’s face changed instantly—from predator to fury.
He shoved the door open and stepped out. “What the f**k do you mean again?!”
“We lost everything. One of the crates went up. Some of the boys are in bad shape.”
Wyatt cursed and kicked the side of the car. “Get the car around! We ride out now.”
He turned back to Aurelia, eyes colder than she'd ever seen.
“Go home,” he said sharply. “I’ll call you.”
Then he was gone—tires screeching into the night.
Aurelia exhaled slowly, body still shaking.
She touched her thigh where his hand had been.
Then her fingers curled into a fist.
She’d played with fire tonight—and barely escaped the burn.
---
The warehouse reeked of blood, oil, and smoke.
DJ sat on the edge of a steel table, wiping the back of his neck with a damp cloth. The air inside the Verona compound was thick with tension and sweat. Shaun groaned from the nearby cot, his shirt peeled away from his shoulder, blood soaked through the bandages.
“You’re lucky it didn’t hit an artery,” Lamar muttered, crouched beside him, dabbing with fresh gauze.
Shaun grinned weakly. “You should see the other guy.”
“I did,” Dwight called from across the room. “He’s in pieces.”
Aron paced the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. “That wasn’t just a hit. That was a message.”
DJ didn’t speak. He sat still, jaw tight, his dark eyes focused on nothing and everything at once.
They had crippled Wyatt’s dock operation. Two full shipments gone. Explosives. Guns. Liquor. Gone.
It would bleed Wyatt.
Badly.
“We lay low for a while,” DJ finally said, voice calm but heavy. “Too much heat after tonight.”
Aron nodded. “Agreed. Cops’ll be sniffin’. Especially after what happened with Manny.”
DJ stood slowly. He needed air.
“I’m goin’ out,” he said.
Aron raised an eyebrow. “Now?”
DJ grabbed his coat. “Just a walk.”
“You sure you don’t want me rollin’ with you?”
DJ paused, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine.”
But Aron wasn’t fooled. His gaze narrowed knowingly. “You’re going to see her.”
DJ didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
Aron sighed. “Just be careful. Wyatt’s gonna be on a warpath. He’s not the type to lick his wounds in silence.”
DJ opened the door. The sky outside was stained a heavy, swollen gray. The air was warm and wet against his skin.
He could smell the coming storm.
A flash of distant lightning split the sky in the east.
DJ stuffed his hands in his pockets and started walking down the narrow alleyway behind the compound, the rhythmic sound of his footsteps nearly drowned by the low rumble of thunder.
He didn’t know what he’d do if he saw her.
He just knew he needed to see her.
Even if only from a distance.
The rain came down hard now, soaking DJ to the bone as he moved through the shadows like a ghost. His black coat clung to his frame, rain trailing down his chiseled jaw, over his lips, down his neck. Thunder cracked loud above, echoing through the streets, and still, he pressed forward.
He didn’t plan on ending up there. His feet had made the choice before his mind could catch up.
And now… he stood at the edge of Aurelia’s estate, eyes cast up to the second story window glowing soft gold against the storm. The same window he used to climb through as a scared kid during thunderstorms, finding solace in her arms when the sky cracked and the world felt like it was tearing open.
Some things never changed.
Inside, Aurelia sat at her vanity, slowly brushing her golden hair. The rose gold satin of her nightgown shimmered with every movement, the delicate straps clinging to her shoulders, dipping low across her chest to reveal the swells of her soft skin. The gown hugged her figure, flowing down her curves, riding high on her thighs, trimmed with a kiss of black lace.
She was breathtaking.
And then—she stopped.
As if she felt him.
Slowly, her head turned. Her eyes moved to the window. Her chest rose, breath catching softly.
Aurelia stood and walked toward the window without a word, barefoot on the wooden floor. She unlatched the lock and pushed the glass panes open wide, her hair catching the wind and framing her face like a painting.
It was silent. No words. No questions.
Just understanding.
The thunder rumbled again.
DJ stepped through the rain-soaked garden, climbed up the familiar trellis, and without hesitation, climbed through the window.
He stood there, soaked, water dripping from his dark curls, his coat clinging to his strong frame. Broad shoulders. Muscular chest rising and falling beneath the fabric. Sharp jaw tense with restraint.
He said nothing.
Neither did she.
Aurelia stepped forward.
Slowly, gently, her hands reached for the buttons of his coat. She peeled the soaked garment from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. Then her fingers found the hem of his shirt, wet and stuck to his skin. She pulled it up slowly, inch by inch, until it cleared his head.
The air between them was thick. Electric.
Her fingers, delicate and shaking slightly, traced the lines of his sculpted chest. The ridges of muscle. The rough scars. He was hard and strong beneath her touch. Built from war, pain, survival.
DJ didn’t move. His breath heavy. His eyes, dark and burning with hunger, locked on her.
Aurelia looked up at him. Her blue eyes, soft and half-lidded, burned with the same fire. The same desire.
Her hands rested on his bare chest. His own moved—one to her jawline, rough knuckles brushing gently along her cheek. The other slid down her side, over the silky fabric, resting firm on her hip.
And then…
DJ kissed her.
Hard. Deep. Passionate.
The kind of kiss that tasted like nine years of aching. Of longing. Of unspoken words. A kiss that sealed a storm neither of them could hold back any longer.
Outside, the sky exploded in lightning.
But inside…
There was only fire.
- Writer
