Chapter 23
1421 Words
✨What He Didn’t Say Out Loud.✨
Nasir Pov
Nasir did not go home right away.
He walked past his usual turn, past the corner shop with its flickering sign, past the street where the dogs always barked at nothing. His hands were still warm, still remembered the shape of her back beneath his palms, the fragile steadiness of her spine, the way she had risen on her toes without warning.
The kiss replayed itself without mercy.
Not the kiss itself — though that too, the softness of her mouth, the startled breath she’d made — but the moment before it. The look in her eyes. As if she’d decided something without telling herself first.
It unsettled him more than anything.
Nasir leaned against a lamppost and closed his eyes.
He had been careful his whole life. Careful with women. Careful with attachments.
Careful with the quiet rules that governed his work, his dealings, the men who expected things from him and the men he owed.
Feelings were weaknesses. Distractions. He knew this as well as he knew the weight of the knife he kept hidden in his coat.
And yet.
Flora.
On the bus that first evening — the way she had stared out the window like she was trying not to exist. The way her shoulders had tightened when the driver hit a bump. The tear she had wiped away too quickly, angry with herself for letting it fall.
He had told himself it meant nothing.
Tonight proved he had been lying.
He pushed off the lamppost and finally turned toward home.
---
Nasir’s office sat above a closed tailor shop, its windows narrow and always half-covered, the kind of place meant to be forgotten. Inside, everything was deliberate—dark wood desk, two chairs positioned not for comfort but control, a single lamp that cast more shadow than light. It smelled faintly of ink and old paper, deals written and rewritten until they bent to his will.
Rafe leaned back in one of the chairs, boots crossed at the ankle, watching Nasir with the patience of someone who had known him too long.
“You didn’t come all this way just to sign papers,” Rafe said at last.
Nasir didn’t look up from the file in his hands. “The business needed closing.”
“Business always does,” Rafe replied. “You usually don’t babysit it yourself.”
Nasir finally set the file down. “This town is useful. Small. Quiet. Easy to move through without noise.”
“And?”
“And I don’t like loose ends.”
Rafe smiled faintly. “You’ve never stayed this long for loose ends.”
Nasir folded his hands, fingers interlaced, gaze steady now. “Someone’s been watching her.”
That wiped the humor clean off Rafe’s face.
“How certain?”
“Certain enough to put men on rotation.”
Rafe exhaled slowly. “That bad.”
“Potentially worse.”
They sat with that for a moment, the unspoken weight of what potentially meant in their world. Outside, a car passed. Somewhere below, a door slammed.
Rafe leaned forward. “You think it’s connected to the work here?”
“I don’t know,” Nasir said honestly. “And that’s the problem.”
He stood and moved toward the window, fingers brushing the curtain without pulling it back. He didn’t need to look to know where she would be at this hour. He knew her routines now better than his own.
“She’s not hiding,” Nasir continued. “She doesn’t move like someone running. She just… exists. That kind of quiet draws the wrong attention.”
Rafe nodded. “So what’s the plan?”
“For now?” Nasir turned back. “Contain. Observe. No interference unless necessary.”
“And after?”
A pause.
“I take her to the city.”
Rafe’s brows lifted. “That’s a step.”
“She doesn’t belong here.”
“She belongs where she chooses,” Rafe countered gently.
Nasir’s jaw tightened. “She doesn’t know what choosing means yet.”
Rafe studied him for a long moment. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”
“Or I’m finally planning properly.”
Rafe smirked. “You mean emotionally.”
Nasir ignored that. “The business wraps by Friday. Assets transferred, accounts settled. After that, there’s no reason for me to stay.”
“No reason,” Rafe echoed, unconvinced.
Nasir returned to his desk, opening another folder. “You’ll keep the men on her for seven days after I leave. Quietly.”
“And if she notices?”
“She won’t,” Nasir said. Then, softer, “She’s watching the world too closely to see what’s guarding her.”
Rafe stood. “And the family?”
Nasir hesitated. Just a fraction.
“Not yet.”
Rafe nodded. “They won’t like that.”
“They never do.”
The knock came before either of them could say more.
It was light. Familiar.
Nasir sighed. “Of course.”
The door opened without waiting for permission.
His sister swept in first, all sharp eyes and effortless confidence, her coat perfectly cut, her presence immediately claiming the room. Their mother followed more slowly, warmth filling the space like something soft laid over steel.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” his sister said, glancing around. “Charming. In a grim, almost tragic way.”
“Good to see you too, Leila,” Nasir said dryly.
Their mother smiled. “You look thinner.”
Rafe straightened politely. “Mrs. Darven.”
She nodded at him kindly. “Rafe. Still keeping my son out of prison?”
“Doing my best.”
Leila perched on the edge of the desk. “You missed dinner. And lunch. And two calls.”
“I was working.”
Leila’s eyes flicked over him. “You always are. You’re also avoiding something.”
Nasir didn’t rise to it.
Their mother took the chair Rafe had vacated. “Your birthday is coming,” she said gently.
“I’m aware.”
“You never are,” Leila teased. “Thirty-five. Ancient.”
Nasir snorted. “You’re not far behind.”
“Yes, but I age beautifully.”
Their mother ignored them both. “I worry about you,” she said. “You work. You disappear. You don’t come home.”
“I will.”
“When?”
Soon, he almost said.
Instead, “When things settle.”
Leila tilted her head. “They never settle, Nasir. They just change shape.”
Their mother reached for his hand, squeezing once. “You don’t have to do everything alone.”
“I know.”
She studied him closely, then smiled, knowing and unreadable. “When you’re ready to bring someone home,” she said softly, “I hope you let us meet her.”
Silence stretched—not awkward, but heavy.
Leila grinned. “Ah. There it is.”
“There what is?” Nasir asked coolly.
“The look,” she said. “The one you get when you’re lying by omission.”
Nasir stood, ending it. “I’ll come for my birthday.”
Their mother rose as well. “You always say that.”
“This time, I mean it.”
"Good. Then don't worry. I will plan everything."
She kissed his cheek. Leila lingered a moment longer.
“You don’t disappear for nothing,” his sister said quietly. “Whatever you’re protecting—be careful.”
Nasir met her gaze. “I always am.”
She smiled, unconvinced, and followed their mother out.
When the door closed, Rafe let out a low whistle. “You’re in trouble.”
Nasir sat back down slowly. “I know.”
Rafe paused at the door. “For what it’s worth—if she’s as important as you’re acting… don’t wait too long.”
Nasir didn’t answer.
After Rafe left, the office fell quiet again. Nasir stared at the desk, at the neat stacks of paper, the life he understood.
Then, without thinking, he reached for his phone.
He didn’t call her.
He never did.
But he pictured her—hesitant smile, careful hands, the way she watched the world like it might disappear if she blinked.
He didn’t know what she had run from.
Didn’t know the damage she carried.
Only that she made him plan a future he had never intended to live.
And that, more than any watcher, was the most dangerous thing of all.
- Writer
