Ricci
Scorched Earth.
I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t freaking breathe right.
The nights felt like knives now. The sheets on my bed felt wrong. The air inside the mansion turned thick, like smoke. It clung to my skin. It followed me down every hall, every room I entered. Her scent. Her laugh. Her voice is in the back of my damn mind.
I didn’t talk to anyone. Didn’t want to.
I let rage do the talking.
I went back to the streets. Not the bright, polished surface my name sits on—but the one beneath. The blood-laced underground. I dragged out the men who owed me things. Smashed safe houses that weren’t mine but could’ve been. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t need answers. I wanted bruises on my fists and blood under my nails.
I wanted to feel something that wasn’t her.
We raided two in one
