#bloodlines

Chapter 72 was way too good

Chapter 10

w/c: 6.5k

a/n: this is for the anon that tore their acl we decided to lock in on the chapter for u. Also id recommend listening to siren sounds by Tate McRae while reading this chapter. Especially towards the end. Credits to @sweettea5285 obviously for the ideas. That’s all hope you guys enjoy!

THE FUDD WAREHOUSE—

Veronica moved through the shadows like she'd been born in them.

Her team was scattered throughout the building—three of Tim's best soldiers, positioned at every entry point. They'd been here for two days straight, surviving on coffee and adrenaline, waiting for Paige's next move.

Veronica hadn't slept in forty-eight hours.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Kate's face. The way she'd looked at Veronica before walking out that door.

I cannot be thinking about this right now.

She had a job to do.

She rounded a corner, gun raised, sweeping the darkness— and froze.

A figure stood Twenty feet away, now moving towards her

Veronica's finger tightened on the trigger.

The figure stepped into a sliver of moonlight.

Kate.

Veronica's heart stopped.

Kate was alone. No backup visible. No weapons raised. Just her, walking through the warehouse like she owned it.

Veronica lowered her gun. Just slightly.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

“I was given an order.”

"You're alone?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Veronica's jaw tightened. "Kate. There are three of my people in here. If they see you—"

"Then I'll deal with them."

"Don't be an idiot."

Kate laughed. "Too late for that."

They stared at each other. Both thinking about things they shouldn’t. Then Kate moved.

Veronica barely had time to react before Kate was on her. No gun—just fists. Just fury.

Veronica blocked the first punch. Dodged the second. Swung back.

Kate's fist connected with Veronica's ribs. Veronica gasped but didn't stop—grabbed Kate's arm, twisted, tried to pin her.

Kate spun out of it. Elbowed Veronica in the jaw.

Veronica's head snapped back. She stumbled. Caught herself.

"That’s all you got?," Veronica spat.

"You wish."

Kate lunged again. Veronica met her halfway.

This time, Kate got the upper hand. Grabbed Veronica by the jacket. Slammed her against the concrete wall.

Veronica's head hit hard. Stars exploded behind her eyes.

Kate's forearm pressed against her throat. Not enough to choke. Enough to keep her there.

“Give me one good reason," Kate hissed, "why I shouldn't fucking end you right now."

"Because you won't."

"Don't bet on that."

"You won't, Kate. You can't." Veronica's voice cracked. Just slightly. "I know you."

Kate's face twisted. "You don't know shit about me."

"I know you laugh when you're nervous. I know you snore when you're really tired. I know you're scared of thunderstorms but won't admit it."

Kate's arm trembled.

"Don't," Kate whispered. "Don't you fucking dare."

They stayed like that, Kate pinning Veronica to the wall.

"Was any of it real?"

The words came out ragged and desperate.

Veronica held her gaze.

"No."

Kate flinched like she'd been slapped.

"What?"

"It was all a mission, Kate. Every second. Every laugh. Every night." Veronica's voice was flat. "You were a job. Nothing more."

Kate's eyes filled. "You're lying."

"I don't lie. That's your girl's thing."

Kate's grip tightened. "Look me in the eyes and say that again." Veronica did.

"It was all a mission. You were never anything to me."

Kate's face crumbled.

But Veronica's didn't. Not a flicker or emotion.

Then suddenly She twisted out of Kate's grip—and in the same breath, a knife was at Kate's throat.

Cold and sharp, pressed against her skin.

Kate froze.

Veronica's face was inches from hers. Those big, shy eyes gone. Replaced by something cold. Something deadly.

"Listen to me very carefully," Veronica said. Voice low. Calm. "There are three soldiers in this building who will be here in about ninety seconds. They don't know you. They don't care about you. They will put a bullet in your skull the second they see you."

Kate's jaw tightened. "Then kill me yourself. Save them the trouble."

"Tempting."

"Then do it."

Veronica's eyes flickered. Just for a second but The knife didn't move.

"I should," Veronica whispered. "I should fucking end you right here and be done with all of it."

"So do it."

The knife pressed harder. Just enough to draw a thin line of blood.

Then Veronica pulled it back.

Stepped away.

"Get out," she said flatly. "Before my people come. Before I change my mind."

Kate stared at her. Breathing hard. Neck bleeding. Eyes searching.

Veronica's voice dropped. Deadly. "Last warning."

Kate held her gaze one more second.

Then she turned.

Walked toward the door. Didn't look back.

Veronica stood alone.

The knife was still in her hand. Kate's blood still on the blade.

She hadn't moved since the door closed.

Her breathing was steady but her hands were not.

Then there was footsteps behind her.

She didn't turn. Didn't react. Just slid the knife back into its sheath at her waist.

Jose approached. One of Tim’s most trusted and loyal soldiers. Also smart enough to notice things he shouldn't.

"That was someone, wasn't it?"

Veronica's voice was flat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"We all heard movement. You told us to hold position. Then we heard fighting. Then someone walked out."

Veronica finally turned. Her face was stone. "You got something to say, Jose?"

Jose held up his hands. "I'm just saying—"

"Say it."

He hesitated."Someone was here. An intruder. And you let them walk out."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know what I heard. I know what I didn't see. And I know that if Tim finds out you let someone go—"

"Tim won't find out."

Jose's jaw tightened. "You threatening me?"

Veronica stepped closer. Inches from his face.

"I'm telling you how it's going to be. There was no intruder. There was no fight. You heard nothing. You saw nothing. And if I find out you opened your fucking mouth to anyone about any of this—" She let the sentence hang.

Jose stared at her.

Long moment.

Then he nodded. Once.

"Understood."

He walked away.

Veronica watched him go.

Waited until his footsteps faded.

Then she turned. Walked deeper into the warehouse. Away from her team. Away from everyone.

Found a corner. Dark. Hidden.

Slid down the wall.

She took the knife back out.

Kate's blood. Dried now. A thin line on the blade.

Veronica's face cracked. The tears came, quiet tears.

I held a knife to her throat.

The thought echoed.

I drew her blood. I threatened to kill her. I looked at her like she was nothing.

And Kate—Kate had just stood there. Hadn't fought. Hadn't run. Had just looked at her with those eyes.

"Was any of it real?"

Veronica sobbed into her hand.

Yes, she thought. Yes, it was all real. Every second. Every laugh. Every night. You were the only real thing I've ever had.

But she couldn't say that.

Couldn't let Kate know.

Because if Kate knew—if Kate knew Veronica still loved her—she'd come back. She'd try to fix things. She'd get herself killed.

And Veronica couldn't let that happen.

So she'd pushed her away, far away

"You were everything to me."

THE FUDD ESTATE — AZZI'S ROOM

The door opened.

Azzi didn't look up, didn’t move. She’d been sitting on the floor, her back against the bed frame.

Tim’s footsteps crossed the room and the he sat down beside her. On the floor in his expensive suit, Azzi was slightly surprised but still didn’t look at him.

Neither spoke.

The silence stretched.

Then Tim's voice.

"I don't want you hurt."

Azzi's jaw tightened. "Bit late for that."

"I know."

She finally looked at him.

"Then why are you here?"

Tim met her eyes. For once, he didn't look away.

"Because I need you to understand something."

Azzi waited.

"Marcus." Tim's voice softened. "Your uncle. You never really knew him. You were too young when he died."

Azzi's eyes flickered. "I remember some things. He used to lift me on his shoulders. Sneak me candy."

Tim nodded. A small smile. Painful.

"That was him. Always smiling. Always laughing. Always looking for the good in everything." He paused. "Even when there wasn't any."

Azzi listened.

"Our family was at war with the Bueckers even back then. Same as now. Same as always. But Marcus? He didn't care about any of it. He used to say “life’s too short to spend it hating people you don't even know.”

Tim's eyes got distant.

"He wanted to be a teacher. Can you believe that? A teacher. Not a soldier. Not a don. Just... someone who helped kids learn. Made the world a little better."

Azzi's throat tightened.

"He was the best of us. The kindest. The one who saw the good in everyone." Tim's voice cracked. "Including Bob Bueckers."

Azzi's breath caught.

"They were friends. Close friends. Marcus trusted him. Believed in him. Thought Bob was different from the rest of his family." Tim shook his head. "He used to come home after seeing him, talking about how Bob was going to change things. How they were going to end the war together."

A tear slid down Tim's cheek.

"And Bob killed him."

Azzi's eyes filled.

"Shot him in the back. Left him in an alley. Like he was nothing. Like their friendship meant nothing." Tim's voice shook with anger. With grief. "The most gentle person I've ever known. The one person who actually believed in peace. And Bob Bueckers put a bullet in him and walked away."

Azzi's hands clenched.

"That's who they are, Azzi. That's what they do. They smile in your face and then stab you in the back when you're not looking." Tim looked at her.

"I know you loved her. I know you think she's different. But she's a Bueckers. It's in their blood."

Azzi's tears fell.

"Marcus would still be here if he hadn't trusted a Bueckers. If he hadn't believed that kindness could change anything." Tim's voice broke. "Don't make the same mistake he did."

Azzi stared at him.

Her father. Broken. Grieving. Begging her to understand.

"I don't know," Azzi whispered. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

Tim reached out. Took her hand.

"Believe this. You're my daughter. The only thing I have left. I couldn't protect Marcus. I couldn't protect your mother. But I'll be damned if I let a Bueckers destroy you too."

Azzi's face crumpled.

They sat together. Father and daughter. Both broken.

And somewhere deep inside, Azzi felt something shift.

A crack.

A doubt.

A tiny seed of hate she'd been fighting since the beginning.

Maybe her father was right.

Maybe love was just another weapon.

And Paige Bueckers was just another enemy.

They sat in silence for a long time.

"You can have your freedom back."

Azzi blinked. Looked at him.

"What?"

"No more locked doors. No more guards. You can come and go as you please." Tim's voice was heavy. "I can't keep you prisoner here. Not anymore. Not after everything."

Azzi stared at him. Searching for the catch. The condition. The thing he'd want in return.

There was none.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you're not a soldier, Azzi. You never were. I just..." He stopped. Swallowed. "I just needed you to be one. To keep you safe. To keep Marcus's memory alive. To—" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter why. What matters is that I was wrong."

Azzi's throat tightened.

"You're my daughter. My only child. And I've spent your whole life treating you like anything but that." He met her eyes. "I'm not going to do that anymore."

Azzi didn't know what to say.

Didn't know how to process this version of her father. This vulnerable, broken man who looked nothing like the cold don she'd grown up fearing.

Tim's phone buzzed.

He ignored it. Buzzed again. He still ignored it. Third time. Insistent.

Tim sighed. Pulled it out. Glanced at the screen.

His face changed.

Azzi noticed. "What?"

Tim read the message. His jaw tightened. His hand clenched around the phone.

"The shipment. The one we've been negotiating for months. It was supposed to come in tonight."

Azzi waited.

Tim's voice was controlled. Too controlled. "Paige's people intercepted it. Took the whole thing. Every last crate."

Azzi's stomach dropped.

"That was—"

"Millions." Tim's voice was quiet. Deadly calm. "Millions of dollars in product. Months of negotiations. Years of building that connection." He stood. Walked to the window. "And it's gone. Just like that."

Azzi watched him.

His shoulders were tight. His hands clenched at his sides. But he didn't yell. Didn't break things. Didn't do any of the things he used to do when he was angry.

He just stood there and he looked almost Defeated.

Something flickered in Azzi's chest.

Anger.

Not at her father. Not at the situation.

At Paige.

She thought about everything her father had just told her. About Marcus. About his dream of being a teacher. About how he'd been shot in the back by the person he trusted most.

She thought about her mother. Dying slowly. In pain. While Bob Bueckers got to live. Got to have a family. Got to have a daughter who smiled and laughed and made people fall in love with her.

She thought about Paige's phone call. The words she'd said to Tim. The way she'd described their night together like they were nothing. Like Azzi was nothing.Azzi's hands clenched.

They'd only had sex once. That night. That beautiful, terrible night when Azzi had finally let herself feel something real.

And Paige had used it against her. Used it to hurt her father. Used it to humiliate Azzi in front of the one person whose opinion actually mattered.

Azzi stood.

Tim turned. Looked at her.

Something in his eyes shifted. He saw it. The change.

"You're angry."

"I'm fucking furious."

"Good."

Azzi walked to the window. Stood beside him.

"She's destroying everything you built."

"Yes."

"Everything our family worked for."

"Yes."

"Just to get back at me."

Tim was quiet."She's using what she knows. What you gave her."

Azzi flinched. But didn't look away.

"I know."

"She's going to keep coming. Keep taking. Keep hurting us until there's nothing left."

Azzi's jaw tightened.

"Not anymore."

Tim looked at her. Really looked. The way he hadn't looked at her in years.

"You sure?"

Azzi met his eyes.

"I'm done hiding. I'm done crying. I'm done letting her destroy everything because I was too weak to fight back."

Tim studied her.

Long moment.

Then he reached out. Placed his hand on her shoulder.

"You've always made me proud, Azzi."

"Even when I didn't show it. Even when I pushed you away. Even when I treated you like a soldier instead of a daughter." His voice cracked. "I've always been proud of you."

"I know I failed you. I know I wasn't the father you deserved. But seeing you now—seeing you ready to fight—" He paused. "That's not the azzi I made. That's the woman you became. On your own. Despite me."

A tear slid down Azzi's cheek.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," she whispered.

Tim nodded. "You don't have to. Not today. Not ever." He squeezed her shoulder. "But I needed you to know."

Azzi wiped her face.

Took a breath.

"Where do we start?"

Tim's voice was steady now. Strong.

"We start by protecting what's left. By making sure she can't take anything else. And then—" He paused. "Then we make her pay."

Azzi nodded.

"Good."

For the first time in weeks, she felt something other than pain.

She felt purpose.

And underneath it, burning bright—

She felt ready to fight.

PAIGE'S MANSION —

The door slammed open.

Paige looked up from her desk. Maps and files spread out in front of her, the remnants of the shipment still being counted, the victory still fresh. But the look on Kate's face wiped any satisfaction clean away.

Kate walked in like a storm cloud. Jaw tight, her shoulders rigid, and her neck—

Paige's eyes caught on the thin red line across Kate's throat. It wasn't deep. It wasn't bleeding anymore. But it was there. Raw. Fresh. A wound that hadn't had time to heal.

Paige stood up slowly. Her voice came out Dangerous. "Who did that to you?"

Kate didn't answer. Didn't stop. Just kept walking, trying to move past Paige toward the hallway, toward her room, toward anywhere that wasn't here.

Paige stepped in front of her. Blocked her path.

"Who. Did that. To you."

Kate met her eyes. For a second, something flickered there. Pain. Shame. Guilt. Then it was gone, replaced by the same hollow emptiness Paige had been wearing for days.

"No one."

Paige's jaw tightened. "You have a cut on your neck, Kate. Don't tell me no one."

Kate tried to step around her. Paige moved with her. Blocking.

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing."

"I said it's nothing, Paige." Kate's voice was rising now. "It doesn't matter. Drop it."

"No." Paige's voice was ice. "I'm not dropping it.” You didn't take backup. And you came back with a knife wound on your throat." She stepped closer. "So you're going to tell me who did this, or I'm going to find out myself. And trust me, you won't like how I do it."

"Veronica."

The name hit Paige like a punch to the chest.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her jaw tightened so hard her teeth ached. "She cut you."

"She held a knife to my throat." Kate's voice was quiet now. Flat. "Told me to leave before her people killed me. I told her to do it herself. She drew blood. Then she let me go."

Paige stared at her. The anger was building in her chest, hot and sharp, but there was something else underneath it. Something that looked like fear. "Why did you go alone, I told you to take people with you."

"I had to see her. Just once. I had to know." Kate's voice cracked. "She told me it was all a mission. That I was never anything to her."

Paige opened her mouth, but Kate wasn't done.

"And I believed her." Kate laughed. It was a hollow sound. Broken. "I stood there with her knife at my throat and I fucking believed her. And then I walked out and I've been trying to figure out how I missed it. How I missed all of it."

She looked at Paige. Her eyes were wet. But she didn't cry.

"The day you were attacked. The assassin. You grabbed her wrist, right? Slammed her against the wall?"

Paige's memory flickered. The alley. The cold eyes behind the mask. The way she'd grabbed the assassin's wrist. "The next morning, I saw a bruise on Veronica's wrist. Same shape. Same place." Kate's voice was quiet now. "I saw it, Paige. I looked right at it. And I told myself it was nothing. That she was too fragile. Too sweet. That she couldn't even hurt a bug."

"And the spray bottle." Kate kept going. I found it, Paige. I held it in my hands. And I told myself it was cleaning supplies. I told myself it was makeup setting spray. I told myself anything—anything—except the truth."

She looked down at her hands.

"I saw everything. And I chose to ignore it. Because I was falling in love with her. Because I didn't want to believe she could be anything other than the shy, awkward doctor who spilled coffee on me and apologized for existing."

The silence stretched between them.

Paige's voice came out rough. "Kate—"

"I'm sorry." Kate's voice cracked. "I'm so fucking sorry. I should have seen it. I should have said something. I should have—" She stopped. Swallowed. "I should have protected you."

Paige stared at her best friend. The cut on her neck. The guilt in her eyes.

And the anger—the anger that had been building since the moment she saw Azzi's face in that apartment—found a new target.

"You're right," Paige said. Cold. Sharp. "You should have seen it. You should have said something. You should have protected me."

Kate flinched like she'd been slapped.

"Instead, you let your feelings get in the way. You let her get close. You let her into our lives. Into our home. Into Drew's life." Paige's voice rose. "And now my father's doctor was a spy. The person I was daydreaming about marrying was a mission. And my best friend—" She stopped. Her voice cracked.

Kate didn't defend herself. Didn't argue. Just stood there, taking it. Because she knew Paige was right.

"Paige, I—"

"But you know what?" Paige cut her off. Her voice was quieter now. Tired. "It's not your fault."

Kate blinked. "What?"

"It's not your fault."

"It's mine."

"Paige—"

"I let her in. I trusted her. I told her about my mom. About my dad. About everything." Paige's voice cracked. "I let her sleep in my bed. I let her meet Drew. I let her—" She stopped. Swallowed. "I fell in love with her. And I ignored every single thing that should have told me she was lying."

Kate stepped closer. "You didn't know."

"I didn't want to know." Paige looked up. Her eyes were wet. "Nika brought me proof. Files. Documents. Everything. And I told her she was wrong. I told her to stop digging. I told her—" Her voice broke. "I told her to leave Azzi out of it. Because I didn't want it to be true."

Kate sat down in the chair across from her.

"I was so desperate for someone to see me. And she looked at me like I was worth something. Like I mattered." Paige's voice was barely a whisper. "I wanted it to be real so badly that I let myself believe it. Even when everything told me not to."

She wiped her face. Angry at herself.

"So don't apologize to me, Kate. Don't blame yourself. Because I did the same thing. I saw the signs. I had the proof. And I chose to ignore it. Because I was in love with her."

The room was silent.

"We're both idiots," Kate said quietly.

Paige almost laughed. Almost.

"Yeah," she whispered. "We are."

They sat there. Best friends. Both broken by the same family. By the same lies.

Outside, The war was waiting.

But in this moment, they had each other.

And for now, that was enough.

THE BASE — NIGHT

The warehouse sat on the edge of the city. Gray. Unmarked. One of Paige's secondary operations—not the biggest, not the most important, but valuable enough to matter. Enough to hurt if it disappeared.

Inside, eight of Paige's soldiers moved through their routines. Guards at the doors. Men on the floor checking inventory. A supervisor in the glass office overlooking the main room.

They weren't expecting trouble.

That was their first mistake.

The cameras caught everything.

Paige sat in her office, coffee cold beside her, watching the monitors that Nika had patched through. Nika stood behind her. Kate beside her. All three of them silent.

The footage was from four different angles. Grainy. Black and white. But clear enough.

Clear enough to see her.

Azzi moved through the building like smoke. No mask. No hesitation. No attempt to hide her face. She walked in through the back entrance like she owned the place, like she knew exactly where every camera was, exactly where every guard would be, exactly how much time she had before anyone noticed.

She was alone.

Paige's hands tightened on the armrests.

The first guard went down without a sound. Azzi came up behind him—one hand over his mouth, the other finding the pressure point in his neck. He crumpled. She caught him. Lowered him to the ground like she was putting a child to bed.

Paige's jaw tightened.

She'd never seen Azzi move like that. Never seen her fight. The woman who'd stitched her wounds and eaten donuts with Drew and fallen asleep in Paige's arms—that woman was nowhere in this footage.

This woman was something else.

The second guard was at the end of the hall. He turned. Saw her. Had just enough time to reach for his radio—

Azzi was on him before his fingers touched it. Her hand shot out, grabbed his wrist, twisted. Something cracked. His mouth opened to scream. Her palm connected with his throat. The sound died. Her knee came up into his stomach. He folded. She caught him. Lowered him. Moved on.

Paige watched her own reflection in the dark monitor. Her face was stone.

The main floor was where it got messy.

Four men. Armed. Alert now. Someone had noticed the cameras were down. Someone had called out. Someone had drawn a gun.

Azzi stepped out of the shadows.

No mask. No weapons. Just her.

She walked toward them like she was walking into a hospital room. Calm. Steady. Unafraid.

The first man raised his gun. She didn't stop. He shouted something—the audio was too garbled to make out—and she kept walking. His finger tightened on the trigger.

Azzi moved.

Her hand shot out, grabbed the barrel, twisted it away from her face. The shot went wide, shattering a window somewhere. Her other hand came up, palm slamming into his nose. Blood sprayed. He dropped. She caught his gun before it hit the ground.

The second man charged her.

She sidestepped. Used his momentum against him. Her leg swept his out from under him. He hit the concrete hard. The back of his head cracked against the floor. He didn't move.

The third man was smarter. Hanging back. Radio in one hand, gun in the other. Calling for backup that wouldn't come.

Azzi turned to him. The gun she'd taken was loose in her grip. Not aimed. Not threatening. Just there.

He raised his radio. "She's in the main room—"

Azzi threw the gun.

Not fired. Threw. It spun through the air, metal glinting under the fluorescent lights, and hit the radio out of his hand. Plastic shattered. He stared at his empty palm.

Then he looked at Azzi.

She was already moving.

He swung wildly. She ducked. Came up under his arm, grabbed his elbow, twisted. He went down on his knees. Her hand found the back of his head. Slammed it into the floor. Once. Twice. He went limp.

The fourth man was the supervisor. He'd come down from the glass office. He was older. Smarter. He didn't run. Didn't fight. Just stood there, hands slightly raised, watching her with the look of a man who knew exactly what he was dealing with.

Azzi walked toward him. Her footsteps echoed in the empty warehouse.

She stopped a few feet away.

her eyes were different now. There was something in them that Paige had never seen before.

The supervisor spoke. "Who are you?"

Azzi tilted her head. Just slightly.

"The one who should have been here from the beginning."

She hit him once. Clean. Surgical. He dropped.

Then she stood in the middle of the warehouse. Eight bodies around her. Some groaning. Some unconscious. Some bleeding. All of them defeated.

She didn't look at them. Didn't check to see if they were alive. Didn't seem to care.

She just stood there, breathing steady, face blank, eyes fixed on something Paige couldn't see.

Then she looked up.

Straight at the camera.

Straight at Paige.

Her face didn't change. No smile. No anger. No triumph. She held Paige's gaze for a long moment.

Then she reached into her jacket. Slow. Deliberate. Her hand emerged with a small silver lighter. Cheap. Simple. The kind you bought at any convenience store.

She flicked it open.

The flame caught. Small. Steady. Illuminating her face from below. Her expression didn't change. Those dark eyes stayed fixed on the camera. On Paige.

She held the lighter up. Let Paige see it. Let Paige understand.

Then she dropped it.

The flame caught on something—a stack of papers, a pool of accelerant she must have placed earlier, Paige didn't know. Didn't matter.

The fire spread. It climbed the walls. Turned the warehouse into an inferno.

Azzi stood in the middle of it.

The flames reflected in her eyes. Made her look like something from a nightmare. Or something from a dream that had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

She didn't flinch. Didn't move. Didn't run.

She just stood there. Watching the fire consume everything.

Then she turned. Walked toward the back exit. Didn't look back. Didn't hurry. Just walked, calm and steady, through the smoke and the heat and the destruction she'd created.

The camera caught her one last time. Her silhouette against the flames. Her face half-lit, half-shadowed. Those dark eyes fixed on something Paige couldn't see.

Then she was gone.

The footage ended.

The screen went black.

Paige's office was silent.

Nika stood with her arms crossed. Her face was unreadable. Kate was staring at the frozen image on the screen—Azzi's face,looking up at them like she knew they were watching, the lighter still in her hand.

Paige hadn't moved.

Her hands were still gripping the armrests. Her jaw was still tight. Her eyes were still fixed on the monitor, even though the footage had stopped.

She didn't know what to feel.

Eight of her people were on the floor. Her base was ash. Her enemy had walked through her defenses like they weren't there.

and burned the whole thing to the ground.

And she'd watched it all happen. Watched Azzi become someone she didn't recognize. Watched her light that fire and walk away without looking back.

Nika's voice broke the silence. "She did all that by herself. "

Kate's voice was quiet. "That's not the woman we knew."

Paige looked at the black screen. At her own reflection staring back at her.

She saw the way she'd dropped the lighter like she was dropping a message.

Paige didn't know if she should be afraid.

Didn't know if she should be angry.

“I need a minute.”

Nika and Kate exchanged a look. Something passed between them—concern, hesitation, the kind of worry that came from years of knowing someone. Knowing when they were about to do something dangerous.

But they didn't argue.

Kate moved first. She walked to the door. Paused. Looked back. "You sure?"

Paige didn't answer.

Kate walked out.

Nika followed. She stopped in the doorway. Didn't turn around. "Whatever you're thinking about doing—" She paused. "Just make sure it's worth it."

Then she was gone.

The door clicked shut.

Paige sat alone.

The room was silent. The kind of silence that pressed against your ears. The kind of silence that made you hear things that weren't there.

She reached for her phone.She scrolled. Found the name. The one she'd looked at a hundred times since that night. The one she hadn't deleted. Couldn't delete.

Azzi.

She pressed call.

She thought it would go to voicemail. Thought Azzi would ignore it. Thought she'd have to sit here in the dark, listening to nothing, waiting for something that would never come.

Then Azzi answered.

Paige's grip tightened on the phone. She hadn't expected her to pick up. Hadn't prepared for this. Didn't know what to say.

But Azzi was waiting. And Paige couldn't stand the silence.

"You saw the footage."

It wasn't a question. Azzi's voice was calm. Too calm. "I figured you'd be watching."

"You burned my warehouse."

"I did."

"Eight of my people are in the hospital."

"They'll live. I made sure of it." A pause. "Unlike you, I don't kill people who can't fight back."

Paige's jaw tightened. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means your people had guns. I didn't. And they still lost." Azzi's voice was flat. "Maybe you should hire better soldiers."

Paige stood up. Started pacing. The anger was building in her chest, hot and sharp, but underneath it was something else. Something she didn't want to name.

"You think this is a game?"

"No." Azzi's voice was quiet now. "I think it's a war. And I think you've been fighting it from your office while your soldiers do your dirty work."

Paige stopped pacing. "What?"

"You heard me." Azzi's voice was cold. "You sit in your mansion. You make phone calls. You send people to do things you're too afraid to do yourself. You burned my family's warehouses, Paige. You didn't light a single match."

"You called my father. You told him you fucked me. You humiliated me in front of the only family I have left." Azzi's voice didn't crack. Didn't waver. "But you didn't have the guts to say it to my face. And unlike you I went in myself I didn’t get anyone else to do the dirty work for me”

Paige opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

"I came to your warehouse tonight because I wanted you to see. I wanted you to know that I'm not hiding. I'm not running. I'm not sitting in my father's house waiting for you to destroy everything we've built." A pause. "I'm coming for you, Paige. Not your people. Not your warehouses. You."

Paige's voice came out rough. "Azzi—"

"You wanted to know who I really am? Now you know."

"You wanted to make me feel as small as you felt when you found out I lied."

"That's not—"

"Yes it is." Azzi cut her off. "You're not fighting a war, Paige. You're throwing a tantrum. And I'm done being your punching bag."

Paige stood in the middle of her office. Phone pressed to her ear. Listening to the woman she loved tell her exactly who she was.

And she didn't know what to say.

Azzi spoke again. Softer now. But no less cold.

"You wanted to know if any of it was real."

Paige's breath caught.

"It was." Azzi's voice was barely a whisper. "All of it. I don’t care if you believe me or not, I just needed to tell you the truth, for once. I’ve never felt more alive with you. The night you held me and said you'd always tuck me in. That was real.”

A pause.

"But so is this. So is who I am. And if you thought I was going to sit here and let you destroy my family because you're hurt—" Her voice hardened. "You were wrong."

Paige closed her eyes.

"When you're ready to fight me yourself, you know where to find me."

The line went dead.

Paige stood there. Phone in her hand. Silence pressing in from all sides.

She'd wanted Azzi to feel her pain. Wanted her to hurt the way Paige hurt. Wanted her to understand what she'd done.

And now azzi had proven her wrong by showing her exactly who she was.

—

Azzi's voice was still echoing in her ears. When you're ready to fight me yourself, you know where to find me. The words had been calm. Controlled. Cold. Nothing like the woman who'd cried in Paige's arms. Nothing like the woman who'd whispered "I've never felt like that" in the dark.

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

She glanced down. Sophie Cunningham.

For a moment, she considered ignoring it. She wasn't in the mood for Sophie. Wasn't in the mood for anyone. But Sophie wasn't the kind of person you ignored. Not if you wanted to keep the peace.

Paige answered. "Cunningham."

Sophie's voice came through the speaker, smooth as silk, sharp as glass. "Paige. Always a pleasure."

Paige's jaw tightened. "What do you want?"

"Straight to business. I like that." There was a pause. Paige could hear the smirk in Sophie's voice. She hated that smirk. "I heard you had an exciting day."

Paige's hand tightened on the phone. "What are you talking about?"

"One of my warehouses. The one we've been... sharing." Sophie's voice was light. Casual. Like she was discussing the weather. "It seems someone decided to redecorate. With fire."

Paige's blood ran cold. "That warehouse was yours?"

"Ours. Joint venture. Remember? Or did that slip your mind when you were busy playing war with the Fudds?"

Paige closed her eyes. The warehouse. The one Azzi burned. It wasn't just hers. It was Sophie's too. A partnership. A deal. A fragile peace between two families who didn't trust each other but needed each other's resources.

And it was ash.

"Sophie—"

"You know what I love about our arrangement, Paige?" Sophie cut her off. Her voice was still light, still casual, but there was something underneath it now. Something sharp. "We hate each other. We've always hated each other. But we respect each other enough to keep our business separate from our feelings."

Paige said nothing.

"Until now." Sophie's voice dropped. "Now one of your warehouses—one of our warehouses—is gone. And I'm told a certain Fudd was the one who lit the match."

Paige's heart stopped.

"You heard me." Sophie's smirk was audible now. "Funny thing about working with you, Paige. You keep such interesting company. A Fudd. Right under your nose. In your bed. In your business." She laughed. It was a cold sound. "I have to admit, I didn't think you had it in you to fall for the enemy. Very dramatic. Very... tragic."

"Don't."

"Don't what? Don't mention that your little doctor has been playing you since day one? Don't mention that she just burned down a warehouse that had a significant portion of my assets inside?" Sophie's voice hardened. "I lost a lot tonight, Paige. And I'm not the kind of person who lets that go."

Paige's hands were shaking. Not from fear. From rage.

"If you touch her—"

"Touch her?" Sophie laughed again. "Why would I touch her? You're so focused on her, on her family, on this little war you've started, that you're not paying attention to anything else. And now I'm down a warehouse. A lot of money. A lot of product. A lot of trust in a partner who can't keep her house in order."

Paige's grip on the phone was white-knuckled. "Sophie. Whatever you lost. Whatever it costs. I'll pay it. Double. Triple. Just—"

"Just what? Stay away from your little doctor?" Sophie's voice was mocking now. "You want me to pretend I didn't just lose millions. This is business and business says I should make an example of her. Send a message and show everyone what happens when you cross the Cunningham ”.

“ Sophie, listen to me—”

“ I don’t need to listen to you Paige.” Her voice was calm now, a little too calm. “ I’ve already found something better”.

Confusion flickered through Paige. “ What?”

“ your pretty doctor? She’s the least of my worries now I have something better”.

Paige’s blood ran cold. “ what are you talking about? ”

There was a pause, a long deliberate one. Paige could picture Sophie on the other end, smiling and enjoying every second of this .

“ I have the only thing you still hold dear.”

Paige’s confusion deepened. “What—”

Paige's brows furrowed, then in the background of the call, almost inaudible, she heard it, that voice that she heard every morning and night. The voice she would keep far away from this treacherous world. “Paige!”

And then the call went dead.

Her knees buckled.

Her eyes filled with tears.

Drew.

She had Drew.

- You wanna know what my problem is? Alright, I'll tell you what my problem is, you ready? You are my goddamn problem! Anyone who would lay it down for some cape in an ivory tower deserves what they get! (c)

————————