Cold.
Watching.
“You should’ve stayed away.”
My blood turns to ice.
Ace doesn’t speak.
Doesn’t react.
Just listens.
The voice continues—
“You’re closer than you think.”
The line goes dead.
44
Ace
Ihang up slowly.
Too slowly.
Because every instinct I have is already firing—tracking, calculating, hunting.
“He’s close,” I say.
Blaze’s voice comes through immediately. “Working on the trace. Give me ten seconds.”
I don’t like ten seconds. Not in a situation like this. Not when someone just called her shop.
Her space. Her life.
“Tessa,” I say, turning to her. “Talk to me.”
She’s pale. Not weak. Not broken. But shaken.
And yeah—so am I.
“That arrangement…” she says quietly. “I didn’t make that.”
“I know.”
Her eyes flick to the flowers on the counter. Wildflowers. Placed like a message. Like a signature.
“He knew I’d come back,” she whispers.
Yeah. He did.
And this is targeted. Controlled. Personal.
“Trace hit,” Blaze says.
I turn slightly. “Where?”
