“Roma,” she said. “The chaos outside . . . It won’t just end tonight as it always does. It won’t go back to the way it was.”
Roma smoothed his thumb across her wrist. “I know,” he replied. “While we weren’t watching, we have lost power.”
While the Scarlet Gang and White Flowers were busy chasing a blackmailer, busy maintaining their business to stay atop each other, a third threat had risen quietly among the noise.
The gangsters still had weapons. People. Connections. But they would not have land to operate on. If the revolt outside was victorious, come morning, Shanghai would be a workers’ city. No longer under a false government, lawless for the gangsters to run amok. No longer a self-contained paradise for trade and violence.
“It seems so fruitless,” Juliette grumbled. “The Communists are armed, the workers are taking the city. There has been no monster attack, no madness. Perhaps it will come once the Communists clash with the Nationalists, but for all we know, this blackmailer was never even a threat upon our people. We kept chasing after monsters, and politics was what swept the rug from right under our feet.”
Roma’s hands stilled. By now Juliette’s fingers were plenty warm. Still, Roma didn’t let go. He held on.
“It’s not our fault,” he said. “We are heirs of a criminal underworld, not politicians. We can fight monsters, not the turning tide of a revolution.”
Juliette huffed, but she hardly had anything worthy of argument. She leaned toward Roma, and he let her settle against his chest.
“What are we to do, Roma?” she asked, her voice careful. “What are we to do when we get out of here?”
Roma made an inquisitive noise. She felt the vibration against her ear. “We survive. What else is there?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Juliette lifted her head, blinking into the hazy darkness. Roma smiled the moment he peered down and met her gaze, like it was an instinct. “What are we to do? On two sides of a feud, in a city that might crumble before our families stop killing each other.”
Roma was silent for a moment. Then he wrapped his arms around her and collapsed the both of them backward—him with a firm plop and Juliette with an ungainly noise, taken by surprise.
“This is warmer,” Roma explained, yanking the blankets over them.
Juliette lifted a brow. “Trying to get me into bed already?”
When Roma let out a soft laugh, it almost felt like the world would be okay. Juliette could fool herself into thinking the rounds of gunfire outside were fireworks, the same sort of celebration that had hurtled through the city during the New Year. They could pretend it was January again, revert back to a time when the city was still.
But even when it was still, it had been teetering toward something, on the brink of metamorphosis. Nothing was going to remain idle and unchanging when there was so much anger lurking just beneath the floating surface. The gangsters would no longer be the power in charge when the city outside fell quiet again, but the Scarlet Gang and the White Flowers would still be at war.
Juliette felt her heart sink right down to her stomach. She retrieved her hand from inside the blankets and brought it to Roma’s cheek.
“I wish we had been born as other people,” she whispered. “Born into ordinary lives, untouched by a blood feud.”
Roma’s hand came up too, curled loosely around hers to keep her touch remaining upon him. For a long while, he looked at her, taking in her eyes, her mouth, gaze roaming like he had once been starving and this now was a feast.
“No,” Roma finally said. “Then we would not have met. Then I would have lived an ordinary life, pining for some great love I would never find, because ordinary things happen to ordinary people, and ordinary people settle for something that satisfies them, never knowing if there would have been greater happiness in another life.” His voice was rough, but it was certain. “I will fight this war to love you, Juliette Cai. I will fight this feud to have you, because it was this feud that gave you to me, twisted as it is, and now I will take you away from it.”
Juliette searched his face, searched for any hint of hesitance. Roma didn’t waver.
“What pretty words,” she whispered. She tried to play it cool, but she knew Roma could hear her breathlessness.
“I mean them all,” Roma replied. “I would engrave them onto stone if that would have you believe me more.”
“I believe you.” Juliette finally let herself smile. “But you shall not engrave it onto stone, because I don’t need you to take me away from the feud. I’ll be running by your side.”