The air was still.
Too still.
Rose woke to the sound of hushed voices outside the door. Arvi wasn't beside her.
She slipped out of bed and opened the door quietly. Two of Arvi's men stood at the hallway window, tense.
"What is it?" she asked.
They turned.
"Boss didn't want you to know," one said, "but someone left a message last night."
He handed her a card.
It was black.
No name. No signature.
Just one sentence in red ink:
"Return what you stole, or we bury what you love."
Her blood ran cold.
Arvi walked in a few seconds later, face like stone. He tried to take the card from her hand, but she pulled away.
"You knew this was coming," she said.
"I thought I had more time."
"They're going after Ruma again, aren't they?"
He nodded once. "And you."
That night, Arvi called a meeting with every head of his loyal circles.
The room was dark. Cigars burned. Guns lined the tables.
He stood at the head, voice calm but deadly.
"They touched what's mine," he said. "That ends tonight."
"War?" one asked.
"Not yet," Arvi said. "But I want the Vasquez network choked. I want every shipment halted, every rat exposed. I want their world crumbling before they even think of touching mine again."
Someone smirked. "You're changing, Arvi."
He looked at them all.
"I'm not changing," he said coldly. "I'm just done pretending I don't have something worth fighting for."
Rose sat by Ruma's bed that evening, brushing her hair gently as her sister slept.
She still couldn't believe she was real.
Alive.
But happiness in this world didn't come without a price.
She looked up when Arvi entered.
"You'll have to let her go," he said quietly.
Rose froze. "What?"
"She can't stay here. Not if you want her safe."
"No—no, she just got back—"
"I'm sending her to Rome. One of my allies has a secure villa. She'll be protected. But if she stays here, they'll find her again. And next time, I might not be fast enough."
Tears filled her eyes. "You're asking me to lose her again."
"I'm asking you to keep her alive."
She stood up. Her voice cracked. "You said you'd protect her."
"And I am," he said, stepping closer. "By letting her go."
She pushed against his chest. "You don't get to decide for me."
"I have to. Because I'd rather you hate me than bury her."
Her hands trembled. Her voice shook. "Why do I feel like every time I choose you, I lose something else?"
He reached for her, gently.
And this time, she didn't pull away.
"Because the world we live in is cruel," he whispered. "But you… you're the only thing in it that still feels like hope."
The next morning, Ruma was gone.
Flown out under protection.
Rose stood at the window, empty.
And Arvi… he stood beside her.
He didn't speak.
Because some pain had no cure.
Only survival.
That night, she walked into his room.
Climbed into his bed.
And curled into his chest like she was tired of fighting.
He held her.
No words.
No promises.
Just two broken people holding each other in a world that didn't believe in healing.
But they did.
In silence.
In touch.
In trust.