The silence wasn't awkward.
It was alive.
It hung between them, thick and wet, like smoke trapped in a room with no windows. It pressed into Zoe's chest, coiling tight around her throat, making each inhale feel like she was dragging pieces of glass into her lungs.
Her phone slid from her fingers.
Crack.
It hit the marble like a shot, screen facing up, still glowing. Still screaming:
Leave both men. Or your career dies tomorrow.
She didn't blink.
Didn't move.
Her mind whirled out of control, like everything inside her was tearing apart at once. She couldn't move. Couldn't think. The betrayal hit so deep it felt like her chest had been split wide open.
Mason was the first to speak.
His voice was low and careful. Too careful.
"Zoe. Look at me."
She lifted her eyes slow, like it hurt.
And his face, it was carved with tension, jaw locked, shadows turning every angle into a warning. But it was his eyes that did her in.
There was something flickering in his eyes, not guilt, but something wild, like a cornered animal ready to bite.
Like a man who just realized control was slipping through his hands.
"Who sent that?"
His fingers closed around her wrist tight and possessive.
"I don't know," she whispered, her voice all breath, all break. "But this isn't a bluff."
He let go like her skin burned him.
"Fuck." He dragged both hands through his hair like it might clear the panic. "Fuck!."
She didn't flinch. Just stared at him, wild and shattered,
"Was it you?" she asked, breath shaking.
He looked up, fast. "What?"
"Was it you?" she screamed, voice tearing. "Did you leak it? Send the threat? Are you destroying me just to keep me close?"
His face cracked. Anger. Hurt. Panic.
All twisted into something that didn't look like love anymore.
"No. God, Zoe, no. I'd never"
"But you already did," she whispered.
Soft. Deadly. Final.
He stepped forward.
She backed up fast.
"Don't touch me."
"Zoe, please.."
"I said don't fucking touch me!"
Her scream tore through the penthouse like wildfire
The sound echoed off the glass and marble, trembling something deep inside her ribs.
Then her phone buzzed again.
She grabbed for it, desperate, like it was the only thing keeping her from drowning.
It was an unknown number:
Meet me tonight. Midnight. Pier 14.
Her heart hit her ribs so hard it hurt.
She didn't know what waited at that pier.
But something told her… it was already too late not to go.
She grabbed her purse.
Mason blocked the door. "Zoe. Where are you going?"
She didn't answer.
When the whole world burns down around you, sometimes you don't run from the fire.
You walk into it.
Pier 14, Midnight
The wind was sharp.
It sliced through her coat like paper, ripped her hair across her face.
The pier groaned under her steps. Waves slammed the wood below like warning drums.
Then…,
"Zoe."
She froze.
Her name on that voice?
It almost killed her.
Ethan stepped out of the shadows.
The city lights glowed behind him, making him look like a ghost carrying all the things he never got to say.
Her breath caught. "It's you."
He didn't speak. Didn't move.
Just stood there like he was bleeding on the inside and too tired to stop it.
"Why?" she asked. Her voice cracked. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"I'm not," he said, soft.
Held up his phone.
Same message.
Same trap.
Her mouth went dry. "What?"
"Someone wanted us both here."
Then
Footsteps approached.
Another shadow stepped into the light.
Mason.
Her whole body clenched.
No one said anything for a second that felt like eternity.
"I could ask you the same damn thing," Mason said, glaring at Ethan.
Ethan turned, hands clenched. "Did you send it?"
"No," Mason snapped. "But I knew if I followed Zoe, I'd find you."
"This isn't about me."
"The hell it isn't!" Mason shouted. "You've been turning her against me."
"She deserves the truth!" Ethan barked.
Their voices exploded, hot, vicious and loud.
Zoe couldn't breathe.
"STOP!"
It ripped out of her like a sob and a scream clashed together.
Both men froze.
Just two shadows.
Two storms.
And she was the lightning rod.
"I'm done," she said.
Low. Broken. Real.
They both tried to speak.
She didn't let them.
"I'm not a prize. I'm not a weapon. I'm not some fucking game you play to see who bleeds first."
She backed away.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't stay.
"I'm done with both of you."
She turned.
And ran.
Her Apartment, 1:00 AM
She didn't remember driving.
One second she was on the pier.
The next, she was in the bathroom. Hands on the sink. Knuckles white.
Her reflection looked like a corpse.
Eyes empty. Mascara stained like bruises.
Mouth trembling.
Her phone buzzed again.
She picked it up slow.
Unknown Number:
I warned you. Tomorrow, everyone will know your secrets.
There was a photo.
She opened it.
And everything inside her shut down.
Her.
Naked.
Asleep.
In Mason's bed.
She dropped the phone.
Clapped a hand over her mouth.
A sob tore out of her anyway.
Her knees hit the tile. Cold. Loud.
She wasn't safe.
Not her body.
Not her life.
Not her fucking name.
Then
The front door opened.
Footsteps approached soft and careful.
A knock on the bathroom door.
It creaked open.
Zoe looked up.
And everything in her stilled.
No heartbeat.
No breath.
"Hello, Zoe."
Her stomach dropped to her feet.
"Marcus…" she whispered.
The man who ruined her life five years ago.
The man she buried.
The man she thought was dead.