Chapter 3 What Really Happened

I didn't breathe. I couldn't.

The words settled between us like a bomb. A quiet one. The kind you don't even hear until it explodes.

"Nora was pregnant."

I sat up slowly, pulling the sheets around my chest even though he'd already seen every inch of me. Somehow, being naked with him wasn't nearly as vulnerable as this moment.

Pregnant.

My sister.

Who didn't even date.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" I asked quietly. "Because if it is-"

"It's not," Ace said, sitting up beside me. "I wish it were."

I studied his face, trying to find the lie.

But there wasn't one.

Only regret. And exhaustion. And something else-fear.

"Ace," I whispered. "How long did you know?"

He hesitated. And in that breath, I already knew the answer.

"Since a week before she died."

My mouth dropped open. "You knew. All this time. And you didn't tell me?"

He dragged a hand through his hair. "You were grieving. I didn't want to dump more on you."

"Bullshit." My voice rose. "You don't get to play protector now. You left. You vanished. You broke me, and now you want to act like you're doing it all for my good?"

He didn't flinch. "If I had told you, what would you have done?"

"I don't know!" I shouted. "But I had a right to know!"

He stood and paced the room, naked and utterly unbothered by it.

Goddammit, even angry, he was beautiful.

But I wasn't going to let that distract me.

Not this time.

"Who's the father?" I asked.

Ace stopped. Turned. "I don't know."

"You don't-"

"I said I don't know," he repeated, eyes dark. "But I've got a short list of who it might've been. And none of them are good men."

Goosebumps prickled my skin.

"You think it was connected?" I asked. "Her death... the baby?"

He nodded slowly. "Nora was scared near the end. She was meeting people in secret. Carrying two phones. Using burner numbers. Someone was threatening her, Aria."

"And you didn't tell me?" I hissed.

"You want the truth?" he snapped. "I didn't know how. I didn't even know if I should. But now that someone's coming after you too-"

"You should've told me the moment you got back," I said, voice cold. "You should've told me everything. Not waited until you'd had sex with me to drop this on my chest like-"

"I was never going to use you like that," he cut in, stepping closer. "Don't even fucking suggest that."

I blinked back the burn in my throat. "Then why now?"

"Because I thought I could keep it buried," he muttered. "I thought maybe we could just have this. Even for a second. Before it got ugly."

"You're a fool."

"I know."

The next morning, I didn't speak to him.

I got dressed alone. Ate alone. Sat alone on the patio staring into a pool I hadn't touched since Nora's funeral.

I wasn't mourning her anymore. I was unburying her.

Piece by piece. Lie by lie.

Ace didn't try to talk. He just sat inside the glass doors with his gun on the table and his eyes on me.

Always watching. Always on edge.

Even the silence felt armed.

It was past noon when my phone buzzed.

Unknown Number

You should've stayed quiet, princess.

Now we both bleed.

My stomach flipped.

I stared at the screen, frozen.

Then the second message came in.

Your sister begged. You will too.

"Ace!"

He was on his feet in a heartbeat, gun already in hand. "What is it?"

I tossed the phone at him.

He read it. Twice. Then again.

"I've got someone tracing this now."

He pulled out his own phone, muttered something into a secure line, and disappeared into the office.

I sat there, heart in my throat, wondering how the hell we got here.

When Ace returned, his face was unreadable.

"They spoofed a tower. Can't trace it."

Of course.

I stood and ran a hand through my hair. "So what now?"

He crossed the room in two strides and cupped my face.

"We make them regret it."

His mouth crushed mine-urgent, rough, desperate.

This wasn't slow, soft, or sweet.

This was a warning.

I'm dangerous too.

He pinned me against the wall, one hand slipping under my shirt, the other fisting my hair.

"Mine," he growled into my mouth.

"Yes," I breathed.

He yanked my shorts down, dropped to his knees, and made me forget my name.

Tongue, teeth, hands-he used every weapon he had.

And I gave him everything. Every sound, every shiver.

When I came undone, it was with a scream muffled by his hand over my mouth.

"Good girl," he whispered, licking his lips like a sin. "Now go pack a bag."

I blinked, dazed. "What?"

"We're not safe here. I have one more place to take you."

That's how I found myself in the backseat of an unmarked car, sunglasses on, hoodie up, wondering if I was running toward safety or into another trap.

I glanced at Ace beside me.

He looked like a statue of war-chiseled, hard, unreadable.

"Can I ask you something?" I murmured.

He didn't look at me. "You can try."

I turned in my seat. "Why did you leave me the first time? And don't say it was to protect me."

He was quiet.

Then, without turning, he said, "Because I was compromised."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means your father found something in my file that gave him leverage. And he used it."

"What did he find?"

Ace looked at me then. And the way his eyes darkened made my breath catch.

"My real name."

"What the hell?"

He gave a humorless smile. "Ace Rivera doesn't exist, Aria. Not legally. Not in the military. Not on any official record."

My pulse stuttered. "So who are you?"

"I'm the mistake the government buried in a folder marked too useful to waste."

And then he turned away again, leaving me with more questions than answers.

By the time we arrived at the safehouse-this time a warehouse-turned-loft on the edge of the city-I was shaking with anxiety and heat.

I didn't trust him. But I needed him.

And that was the most dangerous thing of all.

He walked me inside, did his security sweep, and finally set his gun on the table like it was home.

"You're safe here," he said.

I looked around. "Doesn't feel like it."

He turned to me. "Come here."

I hesitated.

"Aria," he warned. "Don't run from me."

I stepped forward.

And he grabbed my waist, pressing me to his chest.

"You scare me," I whispered.

He kissed my forehead.

"Good. That means you're paying attention."

Midnight.

I couldn't sleep. Again.

I wandered into the main room in a long shirt and no bra. The lights were dim, and Ace was shirtless on the couch, cleaning his gun.

Of course he was.

"You're going to wear a hole in that barrel," I murmured.

He looked up, eyes dragging down my legs.

"Come here."

I padded toward him slowly.

He set the gun aside, pulled me into his lap.

"This could all go to hell tomorrow," he said softly.

"I know."

He leaned in, brushing his mouth against mine.

"Then let's burn together."

He kissed me like a man claiming a territory already marked in blood.

I rolled my hips against his, feeling him hard and ready.

He ripped my shirt over my head, lifted me, and carried me to the wall.

My legs wrapped around him instinctively.

"I'm going to ruin you," he said, voice a promise.

"You already did."

He slid into me with a groan that scraped the walls, burying himself to the hilt.

We moved like war-violent, messy, unstoppable.

And when I broke apart again, it was with his name on my lips and my nails in his skin.

After, I curled against him on the floor, skin flushed and slick with sweat.

He pulled a blanket over us, kissed my temple.

"Tomorrow, I'll tell you everything."

"Promise?"

He looked at me.

Then said, "No. But I'll try."