Ace’s POV
I’ve always been an admirer of a beautiful mess.
Order is Greyson’s domain, while brute force belongs to Raiden and logic serves as Nate’s precious religion. But me? I thrive in the chaos, reveling in shattered glass, broken rules, and the unpredictable thrill of a plan falling completely apart.
Yet, as I hauled my bleeding, hyperventilating brother down the stark white corridor of the medical bay, leaving a trail of black ash and crimson blood smeared across the pristine tiles, I decided I’d officially reached my limit for chaos.
“Keep pressure on it, brainiac,” I grunted, practically carrying Nate’s dead weight as we finally reached the trauma suite. “If you bleed out on my favorite boots, I’m going to resurrect you just to kill you myself.”
“Your boots are Italian leather
