Chapter 41
762 Words
✨What the Quiet Costs.✨
Nasir Pov
Nasir knew something was wrong before she told him anything.
It wasn’t what Flora said. It was what she didn’t.
Her voice had been too careful on the phone. Too light, like she was placing glass between every word. He had learned her rhythms quickly—how she filled silence when she was nervous, how she went quiet when fear pressed too close to her ribs.
Tonight, she sounded… managed.
Nasir ended the call and didn’t sit back down.
He stood at the window of his office, phone still warm in his hand, watching the city bruise into night. Business was moving exactly as planned. Victor’s outer operation had been clipped cleanly. The mole was in place. Rafe had confirmed movement where Nasir wanted it.
Everything was under control.
Except her.
He replayed the call again in his head. I just miss you.
Flora didn’t ask for comfort unless she was already bracing herself against something.
Nasir dialed Rafe.
“Tell me what you have,” he said without preamble.
Rafe exhaled. “I was waiting for you to call.”
That was all it took.
Nasir was already moving—keys, jacket, the familiar weight of purpose settling over him. “Start talking.”
“There was a man,” Rafe said. “Connected to Trump’s side. Low-level, but not stupid. He was seen near the market today. Asking questions he shouldn’t know the answers to.”
Nasir’s jaw tightened. “Did he approach her?”
“Yes.”
The word cracked something open inside Nasir’s chest—something old and violent.
“Did he touch her?”
“No. But he used her name.”
Nasir closed his eyes once. Just once.
“That’s a message,” he said calmly. “Not a mistake.”
Rafe hesitated. “There’s more.”
Nasir leaned his forehead briefly against the window. The city lights reflected back at him, turning his expression into something unrecognizable.
“Trump’s been making calls again,” Rafe continued. “Asking if anyone’s seen her. He’s nervous. Which means whoever he promised her to is nervous too.”
Nasir straightened.
“Say that again.”
“The engagement wasn’t symbolic,” Rafe said. “It was collateral. He traded her future for protection. The man on the other end didn’t expect her to disappear.”
Nasir felt the weight of it settle—not rage yet. Calculation.
“They think she ran,” Nasir said. “They don’t know she’s with me.”
“Not officially.”
Nasir turned from the window. “That ends now.”
Rafe was quiet, understanding the shift. “You want to escalate?”
“I want to end it,” Nasir said. “Cleanly. Quietly. Before she ever realizes how close this came.”
There was a pause. Then, carefully: “She didn’t tell you, did she?”
“No,” Nasir said. “And she won’t—until she thinks it’s too late.”
He pictured Flora as she’d looked that morning—barefoot in his kitchen, sunlight in her hair, nervous smile when she didn’t know where to put her hands. The way she looked at him like he was something steady in a world that had never been kind.
“She’s still trying to be brave alone,” Nasir said softly.
“That’s what scares me,” Rafe replied.
Nasir ended the call and drove home faster than he should have.
When he walked through the door, the house was dark except for the soft lamp in the bedroom. He paused, listening. No unfamiliar sounds. No movement outside that wasn’t already accounted for.
He found her curled on the bed, necklace clutched in her fist, breathing shallow even in sleep.
Nasir sat on the edge of the mattress and brushed a thumb along her knuckles until her hand loosened.
So this was it.
The past hadn’t let go.
He leaned down, pressing his forehead gently to hers, breathing her in. The need to wake her, to ask questions, to promise things he wasn’t ready to explain warred inside him.
Instead, he whispered, barely sound at all, “I’ve got you.”
She stirred but didn’t wake.
Nasir stayed there long after his men reported in, long after Victor’s name crossed his phone again, long after the city settled into uneasy quiet.
Because tonight, for the first time in years, Nasir understood the true cost of keeping someone safe.
It wasn’t power.
It was restraint.
And he was running out of it.
- Writer
