The Assassins Kiss

Chapter 29

Ezra's POV

I put my phone down and run my fingers through my hair, dragging them back harshly like it'll somehow clear my head.

Why did I call him?

Why would I reach out to Luca, of all people, when I have people right here who are actually helping me? Who haven't left. Who've stayed, no matter how hard I've made it.

I lift my head and look at my desk.

It's a mess.
I'm a mess.
Everything is falling apart around me and I can't seem to stop it.

I know I need help. Killian, Roman, and Iris have been doing almost everything for me lately—carrying this mafia like it's theirs, like I didn't push them into it. Like I didn't say no every time they offered.

I've lied to them over and over again. Every time they've asked me, "Do you need anything?" I've said no. Like I could actually handle this.

But then I turn around and call Luca?

He's not even here. He hasn't been here. And the worst part is—I didn't even ask him for help directly. I just dumped everything into that message like he was my last resort.

It feels like I stabbed the people who've been by my side right in the back.

They're going to hate me.

I pull my knees to my chest, hugging them tightly, like maybe I can shrink away from the weight of everything pressing down on me.

I don't know what's happening to me lately.

I'm anxious all the time. I can't sleep. My mind won't shut off—I keep replaying every mistake, every bad decision, every failure.

Sometimes it feels like my heart is about to burst out of my chest. Other times, it feels like it's not even beating.

I feel like I'm losing control. Like I'm losing me.

I glance at my desk again, at the endless stack of papers and files—unfinished tasks, decisions I haven't made, calls I haven't returned. It blurs together.

And suddenly my breath catches in my throat.

My hands start to shake.

I press them against my legs, trying to still them, but it doesn't help. My vision blurs. My chest feels tight. Too tight.

I can't breathe.
I can't think.
I need—

I don't even know what I need anymore.

My phone suddenly rings.

I hesitate, staring at the screen for a beat too long before answering.

"Hi," I sigh, voice barely above a whisper.

"Hi," he replies, quiet, steady.

"Why did you call back?" I ask, trying to sound neutral, even though my heart's pounding a little too fast.

"You said you needed help, yeah?"

"Yeah," I breathe. "Yeah, I did."

"Alright. Let's start with your emails, okay?"

"Okay."

We go through them one by one.

He's patient, calm, walking me through everything like it's the easiest thing in the world.

After that, we dive into the mountain of paperwork that's been haunting my desk for days. Maybe weeks.

And somehow—little by little—everything gets done.