Just Once

Chapter24-Zayden

Sofia thought she was in control.

She wasn't.

Not anymore.

I watched her carefully, taking in every subtle shift in her expression—the calculated confidence, the measured breathing, the slight tension in her fingers where she had nearly gone for her gun. She thought she had me in check.

She thought she was leading me into a trap.

But this wasn't just her game anymore. It was ours.

"Where do we go from here, then?" I asked, keeping my voice casual.

She arched a brow, still poised in that perfect, untouchable way of hers. "We find the man. We get our answers."

I let out a quiet chuckle, shaking my head. "Still playing that card?"

Her eyes darkened. "What are you implying?"

"That there is no 'man,' Sofia." I tilted my head, watching as her mask remained firmly in place—but now, I could see the tiniest cracks forming beneath it. "We both know this has never been about The Society."

Silence.

The kind that stretches long enough to confirm everything I already suspected.

I took a slow step forward. She didn't move.

"Lang was never the real target," I murmured. "Neither was The Society. This? This was about us. It has been about us from the beginning."

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.

Got you.

"You wanted me to chase shadows, to believe that we were playing the same game, when really, we were just circling each other, waiting for the perfect moment to strike."

Her nails dug into her palms.

"You led me here," I continued, my voice dropping lower. "Thinking you were leading me to my end."

Her breath hitched—just barely, but I caught it.

"Tell me, Petal," I murmured, stepping even closer, "how were you planning to do it?"

Her jaw clenched. "You assume too much."

I smirked. "Do I?"

She didn't answer.

Because we both knew I was right.

I could see the war in her eyes, the final pieces of her carefully laid plan teetering on the edge of unraveling. She had brought me here to eliminate me. To end this. And for the longest time, I thought it was about The Society.

But it never was.

It was about power.

It was about us.

And I wasn't going to let her win.

Before she could react, I reached for my gun, but she was already moving—twisting out of my reach, grabbing her own weapon and aiming it straight at my chest.

Stalemate.

We stood there, weapons drawn, breaths uneven, eyes locked in a deadly stare.

A slow smirk curled at my lips.

"This is how it ends, then?" I asked.

Her fingers tensed on the trigger. "It has to."

"No, Sofia." I exhaled, stepping just a little closer, feeling the cold metal of her gun pressing against me. "It doesn't have to."

A flicker of something—hesitation? Doubt?—crossed her face.

And I knew.

She wasn't sure anymore.

Not about this. Not about me.

But before I could press my advantage, a sudden noise—footsteps, voices—echoed through the empty space around us.

The Society was here.

And in that instant, Sofia and I understood one thing:

If we didn't handle this right, neither of us was walking out alive.