CHAPTER 6 : Beneath the Surface

The room was dark except for the faint glow of the city outside. Alexander sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers interlocked, squeezing until his knuckles went white. The weight in his chest was unbearable. He had been in countless fights, had broken men with his bare hands, but nothing had ever felt as heavy as the silence in this moment.

Eve stirred beside him, shifting in her sleep, her hair splayed across the pillow like dark ink against pale sheets. She looked peaceful, unaware. Unaware that the man she had given herself to was standing on the edge of a war he could never win.

His phone buzzed.

He didn't need to look at it. He already knew.

Slowly, he picked up the device from the nightstand. The screen glowed with a single message from an unknown number.

"Time's up, Voss. You know what to do."

His jaw clenched. He turned the phone over, face down, as if that would bury the truth. But the past never stayed buried.

His pulse pounded against his temples, matching the ticking of the clock on the wall. 3:47 a.m. The hour where regrets screamed the loudest.

Alexander exhaled, his body wound so tight he thought he might shatter. He ran a hand down his face, over the bruises and cuts that hadn't yet healed from his last fight. But this wasn't about the ring. This was about something far worse.

Carver had given him time. That time was now gone.

Alexander glanced back at Eve. He had spent years believing he was incapable of love, that his soul had been beaten into something unrecognizable. But when he was with her, when she looked at him like he was something more than the monster he saw in the mirror, he felt the closest thing to human he had ever known.

And that was exactly why he had to let her go.

His fists clenched. The choice was already made.

Quietly, he rose from the bed, grabbing his jeans, his jacket. He had to handle this alone. If he didn't, the blood wouldn't just be on his hands. It would be on hers too.

But as he reached for the door, a soft voice cut through the silence.

"Alexander?"

His spine stiffened. He turned just enough to see her sitting up, her bare shoulders exposed, her sleepy gaze searching his face.

"Where are you going?" she whispered.

His throat tightened. Lying to her felt worse than anything Carver could do to him, but telling the truth was dangerous.

"Just need some air," he said.

Eve studied him, and for a terrifying second, he thought she might see right through him.

"Come back to bed," she murmured.

He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But the past was already knocking. And this time, he couldn't ignore it.

"I won't be long," he promised, knowing damn well it was a lie.

And with that, he walked out the door.

Not realizing it was the last time he'd ever be able to.