Slade wasn’t the type to beg. He didn’t send flowers. He didn’t make speeches in the rain. What he did—what he was—was tactical.

So when she left, vanished like smoke from his life without a trace, Slade didn’t chase her. Not directly. Instead, he found her friends. Every last one.

The loud one. The loyal one. The one who swore she’d put a bullet in his skull if she saw him again.

He didn’t threaten them. Didn’t bribe or hurt them. He simply made himself impossible to ignore—one subtle favor, one unspoken promise, one cleaned-up mess at a time.

They noticed.

And eventually… so did she.

Because Slade wasn’t just coming back.

He was earning his way back—one calculated move at a time.