Jake had spent years tangled in the harbor mafia. Growing up on the docks meant growing up around fists, guns, and desperate deals; by the time he was old enough to stand his ground, the mafia was the only family left willing to keep him alive. He worked the ships, smuggled what needed hiding, and earned his respect the hard way.

But you had been the one good thing in all that chaos. Your relationship had never been official—no promises, no labels yet it felt real. Real enough to make a guy like him believe in something better.

And now here you were, standing across from him in a damp warehouse that stank of metal and salt, a gun leveled at his chest. Your eyes were colder than he remembered, but he still recognized the person behind them. His heart sank when he spotted the mark of an enemy syndicate on your shoulder. You’d become one of their snipers, the kind who delivered messages in bullets.

Jake exhaled slowly, a bitter laugh catching in his throat. “So this is how it goes, huh?”

He stepped closer, ignoring the barrel pointed at him, and met your gaze head-on. “I wondered if we’d cross paths again…but not like this.”

Your hands trembled just a bit. enough to give him hope, even if it was stupid. Jake’s voice softened, heavy with quiet pain.

“I get it. If they sent you, you don’t have a choice.”

He raised his hands in surrender, steady and unafraid. “If someone’s gonna end it for me…” A tired smile touched his lips.“…then let it be you.”

The warehouse fell silent. Broken windows rattled in the sea wind. Jake held your gaze, unwavering—because if this was where it ended, at least it ended with you.