If anything, he’s done the opposite. He’s here with me, eating takeout like we’re normal people.
And it’s wrecking me.
Because Ican’t stopthinking about him. Not Saint Shade—the acrobat-magician the whole internet drools over. Him. Kade. The man who shows up at my shop in the dead of night, who knew my name, who dragged a corpse like it was no big deal, and then smiled at me like I was the most fascinating thing in the world.
It should terrify me.
Instead, I can’t stop replaying the way his eyes were on me today. The way he looked at me tonight, like I am fire and he wants to worship the ashes I create.
I bite into a chip heaped with deliciousness to shut my brain up.
“You’re quiet,” he says after a while, watching me too closely.
“Thinking,” I mutter around the food.
“Dangerous habit.” He smirks.
I roll my eyes. “Says the man who literally flies upside down on silk ropes for a living.”
He chuckles, and it’s unfair how it softens him. “You’re not wrong.”
I sigh, licking the cheese from my fingers. “I just can’t figure out why you’re still here?”
His loaded chip pauses midair.
I push on, nerves fraying. “You saw what I did. Most sane people would’ve called the cops, not asked me out. So… why? I mean, I know we’ve got this mutual blackmail thing going on, but you invited me up to your penthouse.”
He sets his food down, meets my gaze dead on. There’s no humor in his eyes now, just raw steadiness. “Because I think you had a good reason.”
My throat goes tight.
He doesn’t know the half of it.
“Willow,” he says, voice like gravel. “You’re talking like you’re some monster hiding in plain sight. But I saw you. I watched you. And I don’t see a monster. I see a woman who refuses to let men like that keep getting away with shit.”
Heat prickles behind my eyes, and I hate it. Hate how much I want to believe that he believes what he said to be true.
I bite my lower lip to keep it steady. I take one steady, hard breath in. “You don’t even know me.”
“Not yet,” he says softly. His eyes are intense, as if he’s reading my soul. “But I want to.”
I push my tray away, because my appetite’s gone. It’s not the food—it’s the moment. The way he’s looking at me. The way his words cracked something open I usually keep padlocked shut.
“I told you a little bit about it, how I don’t just kill people for fun,” I start. I’m scared. Because once I crack this open a little, I’m afraid it will release the floodgates.
Not-Kade’s eyes stay steady, green and unblinking. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t scoff. He just waits.
I press my palms against the edge of the island, grounding myself in the cool stone. “The men I go after… they’re not random. They’re not just… convenient.” I swallow hard. “They’re men who use power the wrong way. Who manipulate. Abuse. Trap people. Especially women.”
My chest feels tight, like I’ve been running. But I’ve been running for so long, gasping for oxygen I couldn’t find.
Finally, I breathe out and let it spill.
“I was born into a cult.”
The words land heavy as granite in the sand. It’s a word you don’t use unless you’re making a joke. Only, when it comes to this story, it isn’t a fucking joke.
Kade’s brows lift, but he doesn’t say anything, just leans forward slightly, like I’m pulling him in without even trying.
