Chapter 171
Zander
I have my own personal brand of justice.
The truck transporting Dorian slows to a stop right in front of my car on the isolated road. Dust rolls in waves, the sky dull gray — poetic, really, for what's about to happen.
The driver doesn't ask questions. The guard steps out, opens the back, and drags him out like the piece of filth he is.
He sees me and smirks.
The bastard still has the audacity.
"What are you going to do? Kill me?" he asks, grinning through cracked lips, eyes full of spite.
"No," I say, flicking the end of my cigarette and watching it spark to the gravel.
"Why would I cut short your prison time?"
He scoffs, tugging at his chains.
"Where's that bitch? You here to gloat for him?"
I exhale a puff of smoke, amused. I toss the cigarette down, putting it out beneath my feet.
"Nope. My husband has better things to concern himself with."
Then I walk forward and punch him square in the gut.The impact makes a satisfying sound — air leaving lungs, pride leaving body.
He doubles over, choking, and drops to the ground.
"Lift him."
Two men in suits obey immediately, hauling him upright by the arms.
I stare at him for a long moment. What a really pathetic man. For what I couldn't do in court, I let it all out now.
By the time I'm done, he's barely upright. I adjust my cufflinks, exhale, and motion for them to toss him back into the truck.
"Drive safe," I say casually, turning back to my car.
I need a shower.
If my husband smells smoke on me, I'm a dead man.
***
Ivan
"You're so brave, I'm proud of you."
Jeremy's hand covers mine, eyes full of sincerity.
"Thank you," I say with a soft smile.
If only he knew how little I'm bothered. What I really want is to pop a bottle, play loud music, and celebrate the downfall of a monster.
After chatting for a while, I excuse myself and head to Nia's room. She's fast asleep, a tiny tangle of blankets and curls.
I scoop her up and decide she's sleeping with me tonight.
I missed her.
Zero survival instincts, this one — doesn't even stir as I move her.
Later, sometime deep into the night, the bed dips beside me. The familiar weight, the farmiliar pheromones.
Zander's back.
His arm slides over my shoulder, warm and protective. My mind drifts before I can even whisper welcome home.
**
The cameras flash.
I'm walking the runway again, in something white, shimmering, and light as air. Every step feels effortless. The music is soft ,then, at the end of the runway, there's a flash of light, a camera, and behind it—
"Emily?"
I pause.
I wouldn't mistake that bright orange and green hair anywhere. It's her.
"Ivan?" she says, stunned, lowering her camera.
I rush into her arms and hug her tight.
She hugs me back, tighter still — and then I hear her sob.
"You're dead," she says, voice breaking. "You fool… I didn't even get to say goodbye."
Dead?
I blink, pulling back to look at her.
"Dead? What are you talking about? I'm fine," I laugh lightly, confused.
Her eyes search my face like she's looking for proof that I exist.
"Ivan… you died nearly five years ago."
I stare at her, dumbfounded. "I think I'd know if I was dead."
She stares at me with a look that makes no sense. "How are you?" she asks, with an unidentifiable emotion.
"Same old, same old," I reply automatically. "Nia keeps asking to go play with Ray, and Zander is still not happy about it."
"Nia? Zander?" Her brows knit together in confusion so sharp it stings.
"My daughter and husband," I say, bafflement bleeding into irritation.
"What's wrong with you today, Emily? You're not making any sense."
She shakes her head, tears glistening. "I… I must be tired."
"You are tired," I say gently. "You've been working too hard. You need a break before Rose rips off my dick, and I don't even use it, but it's nice to keep."
She chokes out a laugh through her tears.
"You look happy… You are happy, right?" she asks, almost pleading.
I frown. "Why wouldn't I be? My career's going great, I'm married to a tall, handsome, rich man, and I have a daughter. I'm still stunning — what more could a guy ask for?"
"Right… nothing," she whispers, smiling through tears. "I'm happy for you. Truly."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll try to convince Zander to let Nia come visit. Send my greetings to Rose and Kay."
She nods, clutching my hand briefly like a talisman. Emily is so weird today.
I wave as I continue the show, after all I'm a professional.
**
I can't breathe.
My eyes snap open — tiny arms are strangling me.
It be the ones closest to you.
"Nia…" I groan, muffled under her death grip.
Deep laughter fills the room.
"You're the one who brought her to our bed," Zander says, voice rough with amusement.
I pry her little hands off my face, groaning. "I know. But I was having a good dream."
He chuckles, stretching beside me. "Really? What about?"
Right. What about? The details already slip like sand through my fingers.
"I don't remember," I say with a yawn. "But it was a good dream."
He hums, amused, brushing a hand through my hair as Nia stirs.
I grin mischievously, grab her, and launch a tickle attack. She shrieks with laughter, kicking and wriggling.