Page 79 of Gatsby's Starlet
You could feel it.
Everyone did.
“What is that,” he said, and this time there was something in his voice that hadn’t been there before, not control, not calculation, something else, something almost desperate.
Kane looked at Drago oddly, his grip tightening slightly around the phone. “It’s from their shitty bar.”
Drago didn’t wait for him to finish.
He stepped in closer, taking the phone out of Kane’s hand without asking, his gaze locked on the screen as the voice continued, as the reality of it settled in piece by piece.
“Zeynep,” Drago murmured, his eyes turning soft. “Alive.”
My breath caught as I watched him, because the second Zeynep appeared it shifted something in him in a way that felt louder, more dangerous, like the ground had tilted beneath all of us and nothing was sitting where it had been a moment ago, and even without moving or speaking Ruby felt it too, her shoulders drawing tight, her hands curling faintly at her sides as if her body understood before her mind caught up, as if she already knew exactly what this meant.
Drago’s jaw tightened so hard I could see it jump, once, then again, like something inside him was trying to break loose and he was barely holding it back, and it wasn’t loud or explosive—if anything, that made it worse, because it felt like standing too close to something about to snap, that kind of quiet where you just know it’s not going to stay contained much longer.
“She was with this scarred bastard,” he said, his voice dropping lower, rougher now, edged in something that hadn’t been there before.
Kane didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Rode up with him.”
And that was it, the moment everything tipped, because whatever this had been before, whatever plan he’d been running, whatever control he’d been holding onto with both hands, it shifted and then it snapped, something inside Drago breaking loose all at once, and standing there in the middle of it, caughttoo close with no way out, I knew without it needing to be said that whatever came next was going to be worse than anything he’d already planned.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE RIDE BACKto her place carried a weightthat kept building mile by mile, my head locked on the same pieces like I was missing something right in front of me, because even after what Mystic said, even with how clean it all lined up, none of it settled the way it should’ve.
I didn’t kill the engine right away when I pulled in, just sat there for a second looking at the house like I was seeing it different now, like something about it should’ve changed if what I’d just heard was true, but it hadn’t, it was still dark, still quiet, still hers.
My jaw tightened as I finally cut the engine and swung off the bike, moving toward the door without hesitation this time because whatever this was, I wasn’t standing outside guessing anymore, knocking once out of habit before testing the handle and feeling it turn under my hand without resistance.
Unlocked.
That was the first thing that didn’t sit right, because Evie didn’t leave things like that, didn’t forget, didn’t slip, not her,and that thought followed me as I pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside, the quiet hitting me all at once, thicker than it should’ve been, the kind that felt wrong the second it settled.
My eyes moved automatically, taking everything in without stopping anywhere too long, because nothing looked off at first glance, nothing broken, nothing disturbed, no signs of a struggle, no rush, no mess, just stillness, too much of it.
I closed the door behind me without thinking, the soft click sounding too loud as I moved further in, my boots quiet against the floor while I checked the space piece by piece the way I’d been trained to, the way I always did when something didn’t sit right, clearing the living room, then the kitchen, finding nothing that pointed to anyone else being there and nothing that suggested she’d been dragged out.
Which meant something else.
My jaw tightened as I turned down the hall, already knowing where I was going before I got there, my pace picking up just slightly even though I didn’t want it to, even though something in me was already bracing.
Her bedroom.
The door was open, and the second I stepped inside, and I noticed the packed suitcase laying on the floor. Why would she pack and then leave it behind?
My chest tightened as I stepped further into the room, my gaze slowing now, more deliberate as it moved across the space piece by piece until it caught on the nightstand, on the folded paper sitting there like it had been placed, not forgotten.
Left.
For me?
I stood there for a second without moving, staring at it like it might disappear if I looked too hard, like it might not say what I already knew it would, because whatever was in that note wasn’t small, it wasn’t something that left things the same.
I crossed the room slower this time, reaching for it before I could second-guess it, feeling how light it was in my hand as I unfolded it carefully, my eyes moving over the words once and then again, slower the second time, taking in what she’d written.
My jaw tightened as something shifted under the surface, the pieces rearranging themselves into something different than they’d been minutes ago, because she’d been leaving, that part was clear, but she hadn’t ridden off with that Fire Dragon because she had chosen it.
