Hayden's POV
Are we really doing this?
Shit.
Isaaq...
I wish I could tell you everything.
I wish I could somehow just rip this mess open and lay it bare in front of you.
I grunted, slamming my palms down on the railing. The metal creaked under the pressure, denting slightly beneath my hands.
Everything's so fucking complicated.
So much bigger than me.
Than us.
Just thinking about it gave me a headache, and of course, Aiden chose that exact moment to start yelling in my head. His voice was sharp, cold, taunting. Useless.
It was never supposed to go this way.
I fucking hate everything.
I could feel it—the slow, burning unraveling. Like I was losing my goddamn mind.
When I first saw Isaaq, that day in the car ride... I didn't think much of him. Just another spoiled brat caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But then he said his name.
Almasi.
I hated the top-dog families. Hated everything they stood for. Especially the Almasis. After what they did... after what he did...
The moment I sent my report back to HQ, the order came through: eliminate the target.
Isaaq Almasi.
But deep down, I wish I hadn't followed through. Not without figuring him out first. Not without knowing him.
Every time I tried to take him out, I hesitated. Every damn time. My body would move but never in the way it was supposed to.
Instead of killing him, I kept... doing other things.
Things that weren't part of the plan.
Kissing him sure as hell wasn't.
But I was drawn to him—and I still didn't know why.
I've never had a problem un-aliving someone. Never hesitated to take out my targets.
But with him... it's different.
It's always been different.
And now that I remember—now that I know who is, who he was to me—it's only gotten worse.
That kid from four years ago...
I shouldn't have saved him. It wasn't like me to get involved, to play hero. But I did. When I saw him lying on the ground, beaten and bloody, something twisted in my gut.
His face—God—it was a mess. But still... there was something about him.
When the bruises faded, he looked even more beautiful.
I never asked for his name. "Pipsqueak" worked fine. Annoying little thing. It drove him crazy every time I called him that.
He was smaller then. I remember that.
And after that day... he kept coming back. Showing up. Wanting to see me.
And I let him.
I didn't like people. I didn't let anyone get close.
But with him...
It felt different.
And now...
Now I watched him walk away from me. Again.
I should've said something. Done something.
I should've stopped him.
But I didn't.
Because I don't want him to get involved.
Not in this.
Then his last words echoed in my head.
Stay the fuck away from me.
Maybe he's right.
Maybe it is better this way.
"Shut up!" I hissed out loud, slapping my hand against my forehead as Aiden's voice crept back in, mocking, laughing.
"Shut the fuck up," I growled, even though it was all in my head.
I should go find him.
I strolled through the compound slowly, my boots crunching lightly against the concrete floor, until I found him—curled up on the ground like a discarded thing, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
He'd cried himself to sleep.
His cheeks were stained with dried tears, his expression scrunched even in slumber. It killed me to see him like this.
I crouched next to him, brushing a few strands of hair away from his face.
"I wish I could tell you everything," I whispered, fingers ghosting over his jaw. "I really do. But I... I don't know how you manage to make me feel like this. It fucking hurts."
Why do you make me care, Pipsqueak?
"Isaaq," I whispered again, pulling my hand back like it burned.
I lifted him into my arms carefully, carrying him back to the room. He didn't stir.
I laid him on the bed gently, pulling the blanket over his body. He looked peaceful now. Too peaceful for someone who'd been screaming inside just moments ago.
I dropped into the chair he'd sat in earlier. It still felt warm from him.
My phone buzzed in my pocket—like it had been waiting for the worst moment.
I checked the screen.
Of course.
I answered with a flat, "What?"
"Where the hell are you?" the voice on the other end barked.
"Why do you care?"
"He's looking for you."
I clenched my jaw. "Tell him I'm busy."
Before they could say another word, I hung up. Then, with a flick of my wrist, I hurled the phone across the room. It hit the wall with a crack and bounced to the floor in pieces.
I turned back to Isaaq.
"We can't stay here for long," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "They'll find me. Any minute now."
I stared at him for a moment longer.
And for once...
I didn't feel like the monster they trained me to be.
_ _ _
Isaaq's POV
When I woke up, everything was muffled—like I was caught between sleep and reality. Voices drifted around me, hazy and broken. I couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but still, one voice cut through clearer than the rest.
Julie.
She was yelling at someone. Loud, angry. I winced.
My body felt like hell, but I managed to sit up, groaning.
"Would you please stop yelling?" I muttered, rubbing my temples.
Silence.
The kind of silence that drops like a bomb. Like the room had just seen a ghost.
Then—"Isaaq!" Julie's voice cracked as she rushed over, throwing her arms around me in a bone-crushing hug.
"Ouch—" I groaned.
"Oh my gosh," she gasped, pulling back just enough to look at me. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit."
"You had me worried sick. Don't ever do that to me again!" she snapped, before grabbing my face and kissing my cheek. She pulled me into another tight hug, and despite the pain, I let her.
I glanced around the room. It was big. Fancy. Definitely not my house or anything I recognized.
"Um... where are we?" I asked, blinking at the golden walls and dark velvet drapes.
Julie stepped back. "We're in the Malrione mansion."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is that so... this place looks a little different from what I remember it being."
That's when Theo walked in, casual as ever. "That's because it's your first time here."
He leaned against the wall, arms folded. "This is where my dad stays most of the time."
I stared at him, then at the absurd chandelier above us. "You guys have two of these? Talk about fucking loaded."
Theo shrugged with a smirk. "Actually, it's more than that. But hey, who's counting?"
He walked closer, peering at me with a kind of concern I wasn't used to from him. "How are you feeling?"
"Still like shit. Why does everyone keep asking me that?"
Julie rolled her eyes. "Because we've been looking for you all night! What the hell happened?"
My heart skipped. The memories hit me like a slap to the face.
Hayden.
Everything that happened that night.
Then I froze.
"Wait... how the fuck did I get here?"
Julie sat down beside me, her expression softening. "We got a call. Anonymous. Gave us a weird-ass location to come pick you up."
I narrowed my eyes. "Did you see who it was?"
She shook her head. "No, honestly, it was bizarre. I went with a dozen guards. We stepped out of the car for a second—and when we looked back, you were just... there. In the back seat. Unconscious. Made no damn sense."
I looked down, fingers curling around the edge of the blanket. My chest ached—not just from bruises, but from the weight of it all.
So it wasn't a dream.
It really happened.
Hayden you fucking asshole.