↷✦; w e l c o m e ❞
Jakarta at two in the morning never truly sleeps, and neither does Jayden's hatred for the concept of love. From the tenth floor of a parking garage overlooking Zevanya's apartment, Jayden took a drag from his cigarette. His cold eyes were locked on the single, still-lit window across the street.
Inside, he saw a sight that disgusted him: Zevanya was standing in front of the window, staring at the man sleeping soundly on the couch. Her sister looked like a guardian angel, but to Jayden, Zevanya was nothing more than a miserable martyr.
Jayden knew what the man didn't. He knew that all night, Zevanya had been the one moving in the shadows—erasing any traces of threats, shutting off the enemy's tracking signals, and ensuring the man could breathe peacefully without ever realizing his life was at stake.
"You're too valuable to be a shield for trash like him, Zevanya," Jayden muttered, his voice hoarse in the night breeze.
Jayden took out his phone and sent a text message to someone below. A moment later, he saw a courier place a bunch of red roses in front of Zevanya's apartment door.
No business card. No sweet words.
The roses weren't for Zevanya. They were a message for the man inside. A sign that there were eyes always watching from the shadows.
Jayden wanted the man to know that his current security was merely a loan from his brother, and that one day, his debt collectors would come.
To Jayden, the love Zevanya had shown him was a fatal mistake.
Love only makes one willing to stand in front of a bullet for someone who doesn't even know the gun is pointed at them.
"Protect her as much as you like, brother," Jayden whispered, stubbing out his cigarette on the iron railing. "But when the roses begin to wilt and you can no longer protect them, I will be the one to ensure this disaster ends the way it should."
Jayden turned, leaving the deserted balcony. Down below, the red roses looked like a pool of fresh blood under the flickering corridor light.