The quiet in the Maybach felt heavy, sealed off while the city roared beyond the windows.
The pounding in my skull hadn't faded since the event, a leftover beat syncing with my pulse.
Yet even so, I let myself sink into the seat's smooth hide. Streetlights outside stretched into glowing trails through the darkened window.
Sure, this place shines up high - but down low? Not pretty. Sitting here, cash riding quiet under me, the whole mess seemed like some hazy artwork hanging on my wall.
"Yo, did you see the look on Shawty's face when you walked in?" Jordan was beaming, bouncing in his seat like he had springs in his knees. "She looked like she swallowed a lemon whole, Lina. You crushed her soul without saying a word."
I glanced over at him - my little brother. Twenty-one years old, smooth skin, dressed in a suit pricier than our old place ever was.
No scar above his brow like mine, the kind I hid under makeup every morning. No rough patch on his index finger from pulling a trigger.
Just untouched. Whole. I checked on that myself. So he wouldn't get tied down, I wiped the streets clean off his back.
"It's not about crushing souls, J," I said, though a small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"It's about securing the bag. If she's mad, she's paying attention. If she's paying attention, she's buying."
"Nah, she was ill," Jordan chuckled, hitting his leg. He tugged at his collar, way too relaxed in a world I'd made from shaky ground. "You're royalty, honest - no one gets close."
The grin disappeared from my face. "You shouldn't talk like that."
He stopped, the glow in his eyes fading slightly. "Huh? That's actually real."
"Not a word of it," I said, harsher than I planned.
Then I leaned close, fixing the edge of his coat. My hand stayed put - like it had its own mind.
He held me together. Why I kept pushing through every damn wall. The reason I shook hands with devils and looked predators in the eye.
"You think this is a game? You think because we're riding in this car, we made it?"
Jordan sighed, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "Here comes the lecture. I thought we were celebrating."
"We celebrate when you graduate," I said, my voice softening. "When you get that degree and take over the legal side. That's the win, Jordan. Not the parties. Not the flashing lights. Being untouchable on paper. That's the real power."
"I got you, Lina. I'm focused. I promise." He looked at me with those big, trusting eyes—eyes that hadn't seen half the darkness mine had.
"I just want to help you. I want to be in it with you."
"You are in it. You're the reason for it." I sat back, the exhaustion finally hitting me.
"Just… stay close. The streets are talking, and I don't like what they're saying."
I kept thinking about that guy from the party. Not just looking - staring like he was sizing me up. Maybe a cop. Or some government agent. Could've even been another killer testing the waters. I always feel on edge, like my nerves are crawling beneath this fancy dress.
"Biggs," I called out to the front. "Take the bridge. I want to get home."
"Yeah, Ms. Vega," Biggs said, his voice low like distant thunder. Built like a boulder, he sat heavy in the seat - his neck wide, solid, like old oak wood; meanwhile, his gaze kept flicking to the side glass, always watching what trailed behind.
We took the ramp toward the bridge, cars spacing apart. Below, the East River stretched like a dark gap, while the city's edge rose up - uneven, bright, cutting into night. Peace should've come easy. Felt more like winning something.
Yet that rash on my neck started acting up once more.
I checked the side mirror. Behind us, a black SUV - no front plate - sat in our blind spot.
Since leaving the event, it'd trailed two cars back, just coasting along. But now it was edging closer.
Aggressive. Too aggressive.
"Biggs," I muttered, keeping it quiet. But keep an eye on the right side
"I see 'em, Boss," Biggs said, his tone shifting from driver to soldier. "They've been dogging us since 57th."
Jordan narrowed his eyes, shifting closer for a better view. "Any idea who's out there? Reporters sneaking around?"
"Relax," I said, grabbing his arm fast. "Keep your eyes off that."
The SUV revved loudly, shaking our car from underneath. Yet it jerked sideways, closing in so close we almost touched.
I froze completely. Not some photographer chasing fame. Definitely not just an excited follower.
"Biggs, shake them! Now!"
Biggs hit the accelerator hard - engine roaring to life with a deep snarl.
The car shot ahead, pressing me into the seat's soft back. Still, that bulky SUV kept pace, glued to my side, never falling behind.
We hit eighty across the bridge, metal beams zipping past like jail stripes.
Lina, what's happening? Jordan spoke louder, panic breaking through his calm act.
I stayed quiet.
My eyes were stuck on the dark glass at the back of the SUV.
It began moving downward.
Time dragged on forever. Then, the edge of the glass slipped into the frame. The inside looked pitch-black. A flash of light bounced off something shiny and dark.
It wasn't a camera lens.
It was a Draco's barrel.
"Drop!" I yelled, tossing myself onto Jordan's back.
I pressed his head down onto the worn leather, blocking him with whatever I could - my arms, my skirt, myself. Because he stayed untouched, while everything else fell apart. Yet if this world reached for him again, I'd stand in its way.
After that, everything went crazy.
BRRRRRAAAAAP!
The noise hit hard, like a drill ripping through calm. Up there, the window blew apart, spitting sharp bits of glass down on us that stung where I wasn't covered.
Biggs yanked the wheel - car jolted sideways while rubber screamed on pavement.
Jordan let out a scream - pure panic, sharp as glass, louder than gunfire.
I didn't shout - just pulled him closer, eyelids pressed tight, bracing for the pain, bracing for it all to stop, whispering to a higher power I'd ignored for ages.
Not me - him, I thought, while bullets smashed into the steel gate. Grab me instead. Leave him out of this.