Chapter 155: 155 ~ Jace
Sleep was out of the question.
It had been hours since I walked out of the bedroom, but her voice still echoed in my head.
Maybe I don’t want this world.
Those words gutted me more than any bullet could.
I sat in the study, the room dim except for the flickering glow of the desk lamp. The storm outside had calmed, but the one inside my chest hadn’t. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face. I saw the hurt, the fear, the quiet exhaustion she tried so hard to hide from me.
I’d done this to her.
Every ounce of peace she used to have was gone because of me.
The drink in my hand had long gone warm. I didn’t care. I just needed something to burn the edge off the guilt crawling through me.
I wanted to go back upstairs. I wanted to pull her close and tell her I was sorry and that I didn’t mean to make her feel like a prisoner in the name of protection. But the truth was, love had never made me gentle. It only made me more desperate to keep what was mine.
And Mira...
She was everything I couldn’t lose.
The door creaked softly before Tomas stepped in. He didn’t knock. He never did when it was important. His expression was obviously grim.
"We’ve got a problem."
I groaned slightly as he spoke. I didn’t need to ask what kind of problem it was. In our world, there was only one kind of problem that came at this hour.
He set a phone on my desk, sliding it toward me. "The trace from earlier. The one from Mira’s call."
My jaw tightened. "Tell me."
He hesitated, then sighed. "The signal bounced three times before it went cold, but we got a partial location. It’s a residential block outside Montclair."
I didn’t move. "Roberto."
Tomas nodded. "He’s on the radar now. And if we found it, Massimo’s men did too. They’ve already been seen moving near the perimeter."
For a second, I said nothing. The silence stretched, heavy and thick.
Then I stood, running a hand over my face. "How long before they reach him?"
"Less than an hour, maybe less. They’re closing in."
A cold fury crept under my skin, sharp and steady.
"Send Luca and a team. I want Roberto off the grid before sunrise."
"Understood," Tomas replied. "But what do we do if Massimo’s men get there first?"
My eyes met his, steel against steel. "Then we remind them why they fear my name."
He nodded once and left the room to make the calls.
When the door closed, I sat back down, staring at the silent phone on my desk. The weight of it felt heavier than any weapon I’d ever held.
Mira had no idea what her message had cost.
And I wasn’t going to tell her until I had fixed it.
I leaned back in the chair, exhaustion pulling at my muscles. For the first time in a long while, I wished I could be someone else... someone who could tell her the truth without watching it break her.
But this was who I was.
The man who made promises and killed to keep them.
Outside, the rain had stopped. The night was quiet except for the soft hum of generators and distant thunder rolling over the hills. I stood and walked toward the large window, staring out into the dark expanse of the villa’s grounds.
Upstairs, I could almost sense her presence — curled beneath the sheets, clutching my pillow like it was a lifeline. She always did that when I wasn’t there.
I closed my eyes, running a hand through my hair.
"I’m sorry, princess," I whispered to the empty room. "You deserve a life that doesn’t bleed."
The door opened again, breaking my thoughts. Tomas was back, his phone to his ear. "They’ve reached the outer perimeter," he said. "Two of Massimo’s men down. Luca’s team’s securing the area."
"And Roberto?"
"Alive. Shaken, but alive. They’ll move him to one of the safe apartments in the east district."
I exhaled slowly, tension easing from my shoulders, but only slightly.
"Tell them no calls. No movement. He vanishes until I say otherwise."
Tomas nodded. "Understood."
He left again, leaving me with the soft echo of my own breathing.
It should’ve been enough. But peace never stayed long in my world.
Before dawn, my phone buzzed again.
Unknown number.
I answered without hesitation.
"Still cleaning up your messes, nephew?"
Ricardo’s voice. Smooth. Mocking.
I said nothing.
He chuckled. "Massimo’s furious, by the way. You intercepted his little hunt. You must care deeply for this boy... what’s his name again? Roberto?"
My grip tightened around the phone.
"I warned you before," Ricardo went on. "The past always has a way of finding us. You can’t protect everyone, Jace. Not her. Not her brother. Not even yourself."
My tone was ice when I spoke. "You sound awfully confident for a man standing this close to his grave."
Damn whatever peace offering I had put on the table. This man deserved to burn to ashes in front of me.
He laughed again, low and dangerous. "We’ll see who gets buried first."
The line went dead.
I dropped the phone onto the desk and stared at it for a long moment. The urge to put a bullet through something burned hot in my veins.
Instead, I poured another drink and walked upstairs.
The first light of dawn was just starting to slip through the curtains when I entered the bedroom. Mira was still asleep, her hair fanned across the pillow, her face soft in the half-light.
For a moment, I just stood there, watching her. The rise and fall of her chest. The quiet sigh she made in her sleep.
I brushed my fingers gently over her hair, careful not to wake her.
She stirred slightly, whispering my name in her sleep.
And just like that, the fire in me dulled.
I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, and stared at the floor.
Everything I was fighting for — every lie, every kill, every deal — all came down to this one fragile thing.
Her.
And I’d destroy entire cities before I let anyone touch her.
I reached for her hand, tracing my thumb over her skin. "Sleep, princess," I murmured quietly. "Let me handle the monsters."
The world outside was already catching fire.
And I was done playing defense.
By the time she woke, the next phase would already be in motion.
Ricardo. Massimo. Every last one of them.
It was time they learned that I wasn’t just Vittorio’s son.
I was his legacy.
And I was done hiding.