chapter 5
990 Words
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The night after Ivy was followed, she made three decisions.
One — she wouldn’t change her routine.
Two — she wouldn’t let fear dictate her steps.
And three — she wouldn’t let Leon infiltrate her mind any deeper than he already had.
She tried to keep her promise.
She walked to work like always, head high, hoodie pulled tight, pepper spray clutched in her bag. But her skin itched with the memory of that alley. And worse — with the memory of him. The way he’d stepped out of the shadows like a demon sent from her subconscious. Not just violent — viciously protective.
That terrified her more than the men he chased off.
Because Leon wasn’t just some random stranger now.
He was becoming inevitable.
And she didn’t know how to stop it.
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Meanwhile, in a dim warehouse on the outskirts of Brooklyn, a man lit a cigar with slow, deliberate fingers.
Smoke curled through the stale air, wrapping around crates of stolen guns and stacked cash. He wore a tailored grey suit with blood splatter on the sleeve. Didn’t bother to wipe it off. His expression was calm, but beneath it simmered something mean and cold — like a predator pacing behind glass.
The man’s name was Ciro Valenti.
He was a ghost in Leon’s world — once a trusted underboss, now presumed dead after a car bomb that had been meant for him went off in his brother’s place.
Leon had given the order.
Ciro had never forgotten.
“Everything’s in place,” a voice said beside him — thin, nervous, loyal in the way fear makes people loyal. “The Scarlet Room has no security on the east exit. The girl leaves alone every night.”
Ciro took a slow puff.
“The girl,” he repeated.
“Yes. Ivy Gold. The one Leon’s been circling.”
He smiled faintly. “Good. Let’s remind him what happens when he leaves his throat exposed.”
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Leon didn’t know why he drove to the club again.
Maybe it was instinct.
Maybe it was obsession.
Maybe it was that damn voice in the back of his mind — the one that kept saying you should’ve let her go but you didn’t.
The Scarlet Room glowed low and red that night. Smoke. Whiskey. Heat. He didn’t go inside. He just waited.
Watched.
He knew she’d walk out alone.
She always did.
But this time, something was wrong.
She came out tense. Rushed. Looking over her shoulder.
His hand was already on the gun beneath his coat.
He moved fast, cutting through the alley like wind.
And that’s when he saw them.
Two shadows slinking behind her. One moved with the confidence of someone who knew how to hurt. The other with the twitchy recklessness of someone who wanted to.
Leon’s voice sliced the silence.
“Touch her, and you’ll die before your body hits the ground.”
The men froze.
Ivy turned sharply.
Leon didn’t even look at her — his eyes locked on the taller figure who now took a slow step forward and said, “Leon.”
Leon’s heart stalled.
He knew that voice.
Ciro stepped under the alley light with a grin. “Miss me?”
Leon’s fingers curled tighter around the grip of his weapon.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Surprise.”
Ciro gestured toward Ivy with a smirk. “Didn’t think you’d be out here babysitting. You’ve gone soft.”
Leon didn’t respond. He only stepped forward — slowly, deliberately — until he was between Ivy and the men.
“She’s not yours to touch,” he said, low and sharp.
“Neither is the city,” Ciro said. “Not anymore.”
Leon’s blood went cold.
Because this wasn’t just a warning.
It was a declaration.
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Ivy stood frozen.
She didn’t recognize the man Leon was speaking to, but she recognized danger.
His tone. His posture. His smirk.
This man was worse than Leon.
Colder.
Hungrier.
She didn’t know what history they shared, but it was written all over the tension between them. Like a wire pulled tight, ready to snap.
Leon didn’t even glance back at her, but his voice came firm.
“Go home.”
“No,” she said before she could stop herself.
“This isn’t your fight.”
“You made it my fight when you kept following me.”
Ciro laughed. “She’s got a mouth on her. I like her.”
Leon’s voice turned lethal. “Say her name again, and I’ll put a bullet in your tongue.”
Ciro stepped back, hands raised mockingly. “Relax. We’ll finish this another night. I wouldn’t want your little bird seeing how badly you bleed.”
He vanished into the shadows as fast as he appeared.
Leon finally turned.
Ivy stared at him, arms folded tightly across her chest.
“What the hell was that?”
“An old enemy.”
“Does he want to hurt you?”
Leon paused.
Then, “No. He wants to hurt you.”
She felt the floor drop under her.
“Why?”
“Because you matter to me.”
She shook her head. “No. No, I don’t. I never asked for this. I never asked for you.”
“I know.”
“Then why the hell are you still here, Leon?”
He looked at her like she was the last light in a world full of darkness.
“Because I’d rather lose everything I built than see him lay a hand on you.”
She wanted to scream at him. Hit him. Pull his voice out of her head and forget it ever existed.
But the truth sat there between them like fire.
Burning.
And unspoken.
Because she couldn’t say what scared her more — the man who wanted to hurt her…
Or the one willing to burn for her.
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- Writer
