Jay's POV
The restaurant was quiet — too quiet for a place that smelled like burnt fries and stale beer.
Jason sat across from me, a lazy grin playing on his lips, fingers drumming against the table like he already knew how this would end.
"Revenge," he said again, his voice low, deliberate. "You want it as much as I do."
I stared at him, my hands wrapped around the glass of water I hadn't touched. "You think you know what I want?"
He leaned back, smirk deepening. "I know what it feels like to be played, Jay. To be broken down until all you can think about is making them pay. You and I—we're the same."
I shook my head slowly. "No. We're not."
Jason's brows lifted, amusement flickering across his face. "No?"
"I don't waste revenge on people who've already destroyed themselves," I said, my voice steady. "Keifer doesn't need me to ruin him. He'll do that just fine on his own."
He chuckled under his breath. "So, what—you're just gonna forgive him? Walk away and pretend he didn't—"
"Forgiving isn't the same as forgetting," I cut in sharply. "But I'm not becoming him to get even. My revenge isn't blind. It's earned."
For a second, something flashed behind his eyes — annoyance, maybe disappointment.
Then came the smirk. The kind that made my stomach twist.
"Pity," Jason said softly, rising from his seat. "You really would've been fun to work with."
I frowned. "What are you—"
The door behind me opened. Then another.
Boots scuffed against the tiled floor.
I turned just as three men stepped in, their faces half-hidden, their movements sharp and purposeful. One locked the door behind him.
"Jason," I warned, standing, my pulse quickening.
He shrugged like it wasn't his fault. "Don't look at me like that, sweetheart. You made your choice."
The first hit came too fast — a shove to my shoulder that sent me stumbling back into the table.
I caught myself, swinging a punch that connected with someone's jaw, but another hand grabbed my wrist, twisting it cruelly.
"Let go of me!" I hissed, kicking hard, catching one in the ribs.
Jason just watched, that damn smirk never fading. "Should've taken my offer, Jay."
A hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back so hard my eyes watered.
Pain flashed hot through my scalp as another blow hit my side, knocking the breath out of me.
I struggled, gasping, tasting blood. "You—coward—"
"Easy," Jason murmured, stepping closer, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "You'll bruise that pretty face and also know this do you remember Ram the one you beat to death I'm his brother we are not close but I want his position and you didn't cooperate soo... "
I spat at his shoes. "Go to hell."
He laughed — dark and quiet. "Already there, darling."
Another shove, and I crashed into a chair, the wood splintering under my weight. My jar of paper stars slipped from my bag, scattering across the floor like tiny fragments of light — every wish, every memory now trampled under their boots.
One of the men crouched, grabbing me by the chin, forcing my face up. "You should've listened."
And then—
The sound.
Heavy footsteps. Slow. Controlled.The air shifted.
Jason's smirk faltered. His men straightened instinctively, eyes darting toward the entrance.
The door swung open.And there he was.
Keifer.
Tall. Composed. But his eyes—cold, burning, unyielding—were fixed on me.
For a second, everything stopped. The noise. The movement. Even my breathing.
Jason tilted his head, mocking. "Well, look who decided to show up."
Keifer didn't answer. He just stepped forward, his gaze slicing through the room like a blade.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn't know whether I was supposed to be afraid of him—or relieved....
Keifer's POV:
After seeing Jay today all distant and distracted I was not having a good feeling so I opened my phone and saw that I still had access to her location I knew it was wrong but the feeling was just to strong. I opened...
The second her location pinged off the tracker, something inside me snapped.
Her phone shouldn't have been moving this far off route— not at that hour, not toward the outskirts.
My pulse quickened.Jay.
For days she'd been slipping away — emotionally, physically — and every time I told myself to give her space, to let her breathe. But the thought of her being out there alone after everything that happened… I couldn't. Not again.
I followed the signal through winding streets until I saw it.
A black bike. Jason's bike.
My jaw clenched.
Jason — the one name that made my blood boil. My enemy. The guy who thrived on chaos, who'd wanted me gone for years.
And there she was. Sitting behind him. Her hair catching the wind, her face unreadable.
Jealousy hit like a punch to the ribs. Anger followed right after — sharp, unrelenting.
What the hell was she doing with him?
I trailed them, keeping distance. The ride ended outside a rundown restaurant on the edge of town. Jason leaned against the counter inside, that smug smile never leaving his face.
Jay sat opposite him, tense but calm. I could read her from here — her hands under the table, every line of her body coiled, defensive.
I should've gone in. Should've dragged her out the second I saw him near her.
But I waited. Watched. Listened.
Then it happened.
Jason leaned forward, said something I couldn't hear — and Jay stood up.
Her expression cracked into fear, into pain.
A man shoved her. Another grabbed her hair. She hit the floor. Crawled.
Something inside me tore clean open.
I didn't think. I just moved.
The door slammed open so hard the frame splintered. Every head turned.
Jason smiled — that infuriating, deliberate grin.
"Took you long enough," he said. "I thought maybe all that talk about you caring for her was just a rumor."
My blood roared in my ears.
Jay was curled near the corner, bruised, trying to catch her breath. One of Jason's men raised a hand toward her again—
and I lost it.
My fist met his jaw first. Then another. And another. I didn't stop. Every nerve, every ounce of fury I'd been holding back poured out of me like fire.
Jason's men lunged, but I was faster. I threw one across a table, snapped another's grip, the sound of bones cracking echoing in the air.
Then she was beside me.Jay.
She didn't hesitate — she grabbed a broken bottle and swung, slicing through a man's sleeve as he came at me from behind. Her eyes met mine for a split second — fierce, furious, alive.
We fought like we used to train — back-to-back, wordless, in sync.
Every movement, every breath mirrored.
And then—
A glint.A flash of steel.
One of Jason's men, still conscious, had a knife pressed against Jay's throat.
"Stop!" Jason barked, blood on his lip, eyes wild.
I froze — every muscle screaming to move, to tear him apart, but Jay's gaze locked with mine.
That look — calm, steady, defiant — said everything.
Count down.
Three.Two.One.
We moved.
She ducked low, twisting her captor's arm, and I drove forward, slamming into Jason and the knife-wielder at once. The impact cracked through the floor, chairs shattering, glass flying.
Silence followed.
Then— laughter.
I don't know who started it — her or me — but it came out wild, breathless, uncontrollable.
We stood there in the wreckage, bruised, bleeding, still laughing.
And then she stepped forward, eyes glassy, and wrapped her arms around me.
I held her like the world might disappear if I let go.
For a moment, everything else — the betrayal, the anger, the lies — didn't matter.
It was just us.
Two broken people, finding each other again in the middle of chaos...