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**Chapter Thirteen – "Crossfire"**
The café was tucked between two old bookstores, barely noticeable unless you knew where to look. That was why Kael chose it.
He sat at the far corner table, back to the wall, eyes on the door. The place smelled of burnt espresso and lemon cleaner, the kind of scent that made him nostalgic for simpler times—before death threats, before betrayal.
Before Aurora.
Elias arrived late, as expected. He looked tired—hair unkempt, dark circles under his eyes, his badge no longer shining with pride but with pressure.
"You look like hell," Kael said.
Elias dropped into the chair across from him. "I could say the same."
They sat in silence for a beat. The waitress approached, and Kael waved her off. No coffee. Not today.
"We need to move fast," Elias said, lowering his voice. "Wolfe is compromised. Moretti's inside the department. I don't know how deep it goes, but I've seen the pattern before—cases redirected, evidence erased. You were right to be paranoid."
Kael didn't smile. "I'm past paranoia. I'm planning for survival."
"I've got a safehouse. Off the grid. We can lay low, sort through what you have—leak it somewhere even Moretti can't buy his way out."
"And Aurora?" Kael asked.
Elias hesitated.
"You still think she's protecting you?"
"She saved my life."
"She's not doing it out of mercy, Kael. You're useful. The moment you're not—"
Glass shattered.
The window exploded behind Elias in a burst of sound and light. Kael tackled him instantly, flipping the table, shielding his friend with his body.
More shots followed—sharp, cold pops that made the café erupt into screams.
Kael grunted, his shoulder jerking back with sudden pain. Warm blood soaked through his jacket.
"Shit," Elias muttered. "Kael—!"
"I'm hit," Kael growled, voice tight with pain.
"Stay down. I'll cover—"
"Go. If they want me, they'll come through the front."
But Elias didn't move. He grabbed Kael's arm, dragged him behind the counter as more bullets struck the metal espresso machine. Baristas screamed. Someone bolted for the back.
Elias pulled his gun, leaned out, fired two return shots. One figure fell outside. Another vanished.
Then silence.
Kael's breathing was ragged, his hand clamped over the wound. Elias ripped open his jacket—clean entry near the shoulder, but bleeding fast.
"You're lucky," Elias said, voice shaking. "Could've been your heart."
"Just missed," Kael hissed. "But they'll try again."
"I know."
Elias pressed down, eyes darting to the street.
"We've got to disappear. Now."
Kael nodded faintly, teeth gritted. "And when I come back... I'm burning them all."
-
(Continued)**
*"Crossfire" – Elias's POV*
Blood stained Elias's sleeves as he tightened the cloth around Kael's shoulder. The bullet had passed clean through, but Kael was pale, barely holding consciousness. A café employee crouched behind the counter sobbing, but Elias ignored her.
His focus was on one thing: extraction.
"You're gonna be fine," Elias muttered, more to himself than to Kael. "Just hold on."
With a grunt, he hoisted Kael up, slinging his arm over his shoulder.
"Let's move."
He kicked open the back door and stepped into a narrow alleyway bathed in the amber haze of mid-afternoon light. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance. Someone had already called the cops—but he couldn't wait for backup. He didn't trust most of the uniforms anymore.
He knew they were being watched.
Elias hauled Kael into his car, laying him carefully across the back seat. Then he turned around and sprinted back into the café.
The counter was still wrecked. Blood smeared the floor. Patrons were gone now, scattered like debris after a storm.
He made for the security hub near the manager's desk. The place was a mess, but the CCTV DVR was still intact, blinking red.
He yanked the hard drive.
Outside, tires screeched somewhere nearby.
Elias didn't hesitate. He ran.
Minutes later, they were back on the road. Kael groaned in the back seat, semi-conscious, face twisted in pain.
"You still with me?" Elias asked.
Kael didn't respond, but his fingers twitched.
"Good enough."
The safe house was almost forty minutes out of the city—an old hunting cabin Elias's father used to own. Abandoned for years. Unlisted. No one should know it existed.
But as he drove, Elias kept checking the rearview mirror. The attack was precise. Measured. Not a message—an execution.
They weren't just being watched anymore.
They were being hunted.
Finally, the road turned to gravel. Pine trees closed in like sentries as he pulled up to the cabin, deep in the woods.
He cut the engine. The silence was heavy.
Elias got Kael inside, laid him down on the old sofa, then dug into a hidden med kit he stashed years ago. He worked in silence, patching Kael up, cleaning the wound.
When it was done, he finally plugged the CCTV hard drive into his laptop.
The footage loaded slowly. Grainy images filled the screen—Kael sitting, Elias arriving.
And then... them.
Two figures outside the café. Suits. No masks. Military posture. One of them even looked familiar.
Elias paused the frame.
"Shit."
He zoomed in on one of the shooters—lean jaw, close-cropped hair, black earpiece.
He knew that face.
Not a thug. Not one of Moretti's usual men.
A former agent. Clean-cut. Ex-intelligence.
Elias sat back, heart hammering.
This went deeper than he thought.
He looked over at Kael, who was finally asleep, chest rising and falling slowly.
Then he stared at the footage again.
"If they're sending ghosts after us," he whispered, "we don't have much time."
---
* (Continued)**
*Aurora's POV – "Cracks in the Ice"*
The report came in swiftly, whispered into her ear just before midnight by one of her top men.
"Kael was attacked."
Aurora froze mid-step. Her heels echoed on the marble floor of her penthouse before she turned slowly toward him.
"Where?"
"Some café near the old district. He was meeting the detective—Elias. It was clean, fast. Two shooters. But he survived."
A breath she didn't realize she was holding escaped in a sharp exhale.
"Do we know who sent them?"
"No. But it wasn't ours."
Her eyes narrowed to slits. "I never gave the order."
"I know. That's why I came straight to you."
She dismissed him with a flick of her fingers and walked to the bar, pouring herself a glass of scotch with a hand that trembled ever so slightly.
The burn of the alcohol grounded her. For a moment.
He was nearly killed.
Kael.
That damn stubborn man.
Aurora didn't like feelings. She kept them buried under layers of power, purpose, and precision. She wasn't soft. Couldn't afford to be. But this—
This was different.
She thought of the way he looked at her, like he could still see the girl buried beneath the blood and empire. She hated it. Hated how he made her feel unfinished.
But more than that… she hated that someone had dared touch what was hers.
She moved to the glass windows overlooking the city. The lights twinkled below like a million little secrets, each one tied to her kingdom. She had built all of this. She ruled it with iron and flame.
But tonight, it wasn't enough.
Who had come for Kael? If it was Moretti—he was bold, but not reckless. Not without cause. Not without permission.
Unless…
Her fingers curled around the glass tighter. Something deeper was at play. She could feel it.
A shift.
A warning.
And worse — fear. It crept in like a shadow behind her ribcage. Not for herself. Never for herself.
But for him.
She turned away from the window and strode across the room, her voice slicing through the air. "Get me Renzo. And prepare the convoy. I want eyes on every corner of the city by sunrise. I want names, plates, faces—anything. Whoever tried to kill Kael... they die screaming."
Her men nodded and scattered like ghosts.
Left alone, Aurora walked to the table where Kael's file still sat—old reports, photos, that damn noble smirk of his frozen in print.
She touched his picture, then ripped it in half.
She didn't know what the hell this man had done to her.
But she was going to find out.
And she was going to make sure no one ever came close to hurting him again.
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