The line went dead.
No goodbyes. No promises.
Selene sat in silence, phone still to her ear, like the voice had left an echo in her skull.
He remembered her. She remembered him.
That was the problem.
She poured another drink.
Didn't sip.
Swallowed.
Let it burn all the way down.
Her reflection in the window looked like someone else. Someone softer. Someone scared.
She turned away from it.
Cam arrived twenty minutes later, hair wet, jaw tight.
"I came as soon as—"
"Don't."
She raised her hand, silencing him.
He closed the door gently.
"I know the call didn't go how you expected."
"No," she said. "It went exactly how I expected."
Cam exhaled. "He's alive, then."
"He's alive," she confirmed. "And he remembers me better than I wanted him to."
Cam didn't speak for a while. He knew better. Some names don't belong in rooms with light.
Later, she moved to the private lounge upstairs.
The Lights were low and the music soft.
She needed to breathe.
Selene slid on the Velvet couch, crossed her legs, with a glass in hand.
She ran her fingers over the rim. Thought about cutting herself on it.
It would hurt less than what she was feeling.
Someone knocked. Three soft taps.
She did not look up.
"Come in."
It wasn't Cam.
It was Nico.
"I didn't expect you to be alone here."
"I'm never alone," she said, her eyes still forward.
He walked in anyway. Shut the door.
"You hear about the new guy they're auditioning next week?"
"No."
Nico smirked. "Straight from L.A. Full package. Tattoos, jawline, mean body."
Selene flatters an eyebrow. "It's not the body we hire. We hire stories."
"He's got one. Says he was in Vegas until things got…bloody."
Her fingers froze around the glass.
Nico stepped closer.
"Boss, are you okay?"
Selene looked up at him.
Eyes like stormclouds, mouth tight.
"No."
She stood.
He didn't move.
"You want something, Nico?"
He hesitated.
Then—"I want to make sure you're not about to break."
Selene stepped closer.
"You think I'm glass?"
"I think you're fire," he said. "But even fire dies without air."
She reached out and traced his jaw.
"So give me air, then."
He leaned in to kiss her. She stopped him.
"Not with your mouth," she whispered. "With your silence."
Then she walked past him, her heels cracking the quiet.
Back in her office, Cam had something.
"I traced the burner," he said. "The number that texted you. It's hopping towers. Too smart to catch."
Selene didn't flinch.
"Find me a way to answer it."
Cam frowned. "You want to text back?"
"I want to set a trap."
He nodded. "Message?"
She took the phone. Typed slow.
"You left the bed too cold. Come warm it."
Cam stared. "You serious?"
"Dead serious."
By midnight, the reply came.
"Be there by 3. No red."
Selene's pulse kicked.
He was watching.
Close enough to see her dress.
Close enough to know what she smelled like.
Cam grabbed the burner.
"I'll sweep the building."
"No," she said.
He blinked. "No?"
"He wants me soft. Vulnerable. Alone."
Cam's jaw locked. "That's not a strategy. That's suicide."
"No," she said again. "That's bait."
He didn't speak.
Just stared at her.
Like he was watching her die in slow motion.
She wore black this time.
Silk. Bare shoulders. A slit high enough to invite danger.
She sprayed perfume behind her ears.
The same kind she wore when she was nineteen and reckless.
Then she waited.
She didn't sit. She stood.
At 3:04 AM, her door opened.
She did not look up.
She didn't move.
He walked in like smoke.
Quiet. Slow.
Selene felt him before she saw him.
A presence thick as heat.
"You still drink gin?" the voice asked.
Her stomach dropped.
The sound hadn't changed.
Still rough velvet.
Still dangerous.
She turned.
And there he was.
Same eyes.
Same mouth.
Same ring.
He stood like he owned the air.
She hated that it still made her breath catch.
"Darius Vex," she said, voice ice.
He smiled.
"It's been a long time, Boss Lady."
Her knees wanted to give.
She made them hold.
""You should be dead by now."
"I am," he said. "But only to people who stopped looking."
He walked closer. Didn't ask permission. Didn't need to.
She let him come.
One step. Two steps.
He stopped a foot away.
Selene's hands were shaking.
She curled them into fists.
"You came back to haunt me?"
"No," he said. "I came back to complete everything we started."
Her jaw tightened.
"There's nothing left between us."
He leaned in.
Sniffed her neck.
"Still smells like strawberries."
She slapped him.
Really hard.
His head turned.
Slowly, he looked back and Smiled.
Blood on his lip.
"Missed you too."
Selene's heart was a war drum.
She turned away.
But his hands found her hips. Held her tight.
She didn't stop him.
Didn't want to.
Didn't know how.
He spun her.
Pushed her against the wall.
Not rough.
But firm.
He looked at her as like she was something he hadn't tasted in a long time.
"I'm don't belong to you," she whispered.
"You never were," he said. "You just didn't know how to be mine yet."
He kissed her. Hard. Messy And Real.
She bit his lip.
He didn't flinch.
Grabbed her wrists. Pinned them.
She gasped.
Then moaned.
It wasn't sweet.
It was survival.
His mouth burned a trail down her throat.
She arched.
Clung.
Broke.
He whispered her name like a curse between her legs.
And she let him.
Because pain was a language only they spoke.
And tonight—she was fluent.
They lay on the floor when it was over.
Naked. Breathless. Raw.
Selene looked at the ceiling and uttered, "I should have killed you."
"You tried."
"Not hard enough."
He said, "You can still." "But you will miss me when I'm gone."
She hated how true that sounded.
He sat up.
Looked at her.
"You know why I'm here."
"I don't want to Know why you're here ."
"You're not safe."
She laughed. Bitter. Broken.
"I haven't been safe since I was sixteen."
He leaned in.
Kissed her forehead.
"Then let me help."
She looked at him.
The man who'd ruined her.
The man who held her down and lifted her up with a single breath. "I don't trust you."
"You shouldn't."
"But I need you."
He nodded.
"Then let's burn it down together."
She closed her eyes.
But didn't sleep.
Couldn't.
Because when fire kisses fire—
Something always turns to ash.