Chapter 164: 164 ~ Mira & Jace
Mira’s POV
Sleep didn’t come easy that night.
Every creak of the penthouse, every gust of wind outside made me flinch. I kept thinking about that message. Those seven words that refused to leave my head.
I had deleted it. I cleared it from my phone like it never existed, but I could still see the words when I closed my eyes.
The next morning, I tried to act normal. I made coffee and folded the sheets, not waiting for the housekeepers to get it done for me. I pretended the world was fine. But the truth was, every sound made my pulse spike. Every time the elevator dinged, I thought something was about to happen.
By noon, I was pacing again. I was pacing a lot these days.
The guards outside the door barely looked up, but I noticed they were on edge too. Their hands kept brushing over their weapons more often than usual.
Something was off. I could feel it in the air, heavy and tense like the sky before a thunderstorm.
I thought of calling Jace, but he had said not to. "Stay inside, mia cara," his voice had warned. "Don’t open the door for anyone who isn’t Tomas."
So, I tried to keep busy. I sat with Donna Carmela, but even she was restless.
She had been flipping through a book when she suddenly looked up and said quietly, "They’re too quiet."
"Who?"
"The men downstairs." She tilted her head toward the hall. "When guards get that quiet, something’s wrong."
My heart thudded hard. "You think it’s Massimo?"
Her eyes flicked toward the window. "In our world, ghosts don’t stay dead. If he’s quiet, it’s because he’s waiting for a louder return."
I didn’t want to believe her, but the pit in my stomach said she was right.
The day dragged on. Tomas had left earlier that morning with some of the men, and by late afternoon, I was alone with the guards posted in the living room.
Then, just as I was about to head upstairs, my phone buzzed again.
My body froze.
Unknown Number.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. My thumb hovered over the screen, my chest rising and falling too fast. Then I finally opened it.
This time, the message was longer.
"He doesn’t know what’s coming."
I felt my throat close.
My first instinct was to call Jace, but the second I pressed the call icon, it went straight to voicemail.
I tried again. Nothing.
My knees felt weak as I sank into the couch. Donna looked at me from across the room, reading the fear in my face before I could even speak.
"What happened?" she asked.
I showed her the message. She went still for a moment, then set her cup down and reached for my hand.
"Lock every door," she said quietly. "Now."
And I did.
We moved through the penthouse together, locking every door, closing the curtains, shutting off the balcony lights. The guards outside exchanged worried glances but said nothing.
It was nearly evening when I heard it. There was the faint, distant sound of tires screeching outside the building. Then came the men’s voices in sharp and hurried tones.
I rushed to the window with my heart hammering in my chest, but before I could move the curtain, a familiar voice cut through the hallway.
"Mira!"
My heart stopped for a second.
I knew that voice.
"Jace!" I yelled, turning around.
I ran toward the sound, and before I even reached the end of the hall, the elevator doors slid open. He stepped out, dark suit slightly wrinkled, eyes sharp and tired but very much alive.
For a second, everything else disappeared.
I didn’t think. I just ran into him.
His arms caught me instantly, strong and grounding, pulling me into his chest as I felt the air rush out of me.
"I thought something happened to you," I whispered against his shirt.
He let out a breath that sounded like relief. "Something almost did."
When he pulled back to look at me, I could see it. I saw the exhaustion, the anger, the storm that hadn’t quite passed yet.
Donna Carmela’s footsteps echoed behind us. "Well, I suppose this means the devil has returned," she said dryly, though I could hear the emotion in her tone.
Jace smirked faintly. "You missed me, mom."
"Don’t flatter yourself." She rolled her eyes.
I almost laughed but the gravity of the tension kept me from doing that.
Then, Tomas walked in from the hallway and grimaced at the sight of me still clinging to Jace. "Seriously? Can you two not do this in front of the rest of us? I just had lunch."
We were giving this guy a hellish time considering the fact that him and Ariel just broke up. It was sad but apparently she couldn’t keep up with the craziness of his world. It was understandable. Sometimes I wished I could escape it too but I was stuck for now.
Even Jace cracked a smile before kissing my forehead softly.
For that moment, it felt peaceful again.
Almost normal.
But I should’ve known better. Moments like this never stayed long in our world.
Jace’s POV
Holding Mira again was all I’d wanted for days.
Her scent and her warmth grounded me in a way nothing else could.
But even as I kissed her, even as I felt her trembling ease against me, I could sense it. The wrongness in the air.
She didn’t say it right away, but I saw it in her eyes before she even handed me her phone.
There was a message.
Two, actually.
She had taken screenshots.
One said: You shouldn’t have come back.
The other: He doesn’t know what’s coming.
For a second, everything in me went still and my pulse spiked.
"Who sent this?" I asked quietly.
"I don’t know. No name, no number. Just those messages." She said softly.
I stared at the screen, jaw tightening. "When did you get this one?"
"About an hour ago."
Tomas was already at my shoulder. He scanned the screen, then turned toward the nearest guard. "Trace every recent call and text that hit this line. Right now."
I didn’t wait for his reply. I was already moving.
"Mira," I said, looking at her. "You did the right thing telling me."
"Jace, what does it mean?"
"It means Massimo is closer than we think."
Her face paled. "But you said—"
"I know what I said," I cut in. "But silence is never peace. It’s strategy."
Tomas returned moments later, his face grim. "Message came from a ghost line. Untraceable. Whoever sent it knew what they were doing."
I felt that old, familiar rage begin to burn low and steady in my chest.
Massimo was playing games again. Trying to scare her. Trying to bait me.
It was a mistake he’d only make once.
When I went upstairs and came back down , the air was already buzzing with quiet urgency.
Tomas was giving orders over the radio, men loading weapons, securing bags, checking routes.
I moved through them in silence, my thoughts circling one name. Massimo.
He had been patient. Too patient.
The kind of patience that meant planning. I had to outsmart him.
At the balcony, I stopped and looked out at the skyline. Los Angeles glowed under the night, beautiful and ruthless, just like the man who thought he could threaten what was mine.
I lit a cigarette even though I’d promised Mira I’d quit. The smoke curled upward, sharp in the cold air, and for a second, I let myself think about her about her hands, her laugh, the way she looked at me like I was still worth saving.
She was my peace, but she was also my weakness.
And Massimo was well aware of that.
I exhaled, crushing the cigarette under my boot.
If this was going to end, it would end on my terms.
I didn’t want any more warnings. No more back and forths. I wanted to finish this once and for all.
Storming back into the living room, I turned to Tomas. "Call the pilots. We leave tonight."
Mira’s eyes widened. "Where are you going?"
"Palermo was for Ricardo," I said calmly. "This time, it’s for Massimo."
She shook her head, stepping closer. "No, you can’t... not now. Not again."
I brushed a hand against her cheek, trying to soften my voice. "I have to finish this, baby. He’s getting too close."
Tears welled in her eyes, and it broke something inside me to see it. "Please, just let it go—"
"If I let it go," I said quietly, "he’ll come for you. For us. And I can’t let that happen."
She opened her mouth to argue, but I kissed her instead. It was hard, deep, desperate. The kind of kiss that left no room for words.
When I finally pulled back, I rested my forehead against hers.
"I’ll come back to you," I whispered. "I swear it."
And as I walked away, the promise burned in my chest like fire.
Massimo had drawn the final line.
This time, I was crossing it.