The atmosphere was heavy in the dimly lit corridor of the hospital's private wing. Naya stood frozen, her breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat. She hadn't meant to follow them. She hadn't intended to eavesdrop. But something about Jun's hushed voice and Nian's sudden disappearance from the ER had made her curious.
And now… she wished she hadn't been.
Through the slightly ajar office door, she saw them—Jun's hand fisted in Nian's pristine white coat, pulling him close. The moment hung in the air like static. She couldn't hear everything, but the energy was unmistakable. Jun's lips were dangerously close to Nian's ear, his voice a low growl. Nian didn't pull away.
Not immediately.
Naya's heart stuttered. Heat, confusion, and betrayal all swirled in her chest like a hurricane. She backed away slowly, a thousand thoughts screaming in her head.
Inside the office, Nian finally stepped back, his jaw clenched. "This needs to stop, Jun."
"Oh?" Jun's lips curled. "You didn't seem to think that when your body was on fire for me in Shanghai."
"That was the past," Nian snapped, his voice lower now. "You don't get to walk in and ruin everything just because you feel neglected."
Jun's smile was sharp. "Ruin? Nian, I created you. I was the one who reminded you that you're allowed to want. To feel. You were a machine before me."
"And now I'm trying to be more," Nian shot back. "For her."
Jun's eyes narrowed. "You think she can handle all that darkness inside you? You think she knows what you did to survive?"
Nian didn't reply. His silence was answer enough.
---
Meanwhile, Naya stood in the empty stairwell, hands trembling, trying to make sense of what she'd seen. Had Nian really—? Was Jun his ex? Why hadn't he told her? Her eyes burned. Was she angry? Heartbroken? She couldn't tell where one emotion ended and the other began.
But one thing was certain: Jun wasn't here just to win Nian back. He had come with a plan.
---
Later that night…
The setting shifted from hospital lights to the luxurious penthouse suite Nian now kept under a different name—Zeyan Xu. It was a secret even Jun had uncovered only recently. And that infuriated him.
Jun paced the marble floors, a glass of wine untouched in his hand, eyes dark as night. "So this is how he lives now," he murmured, running his fingers across a photo of Nian and Naya.
He crushed it between his fingers.
But Jun wasn't here to wallow. He had planted the first seed of doubt, and now it was time to water it.
He picked up his phone and called the mysterious contact saved only as "X".
"She saw us. She'll crack. Just like we planned."
A pause.
"Yes. Initiate phase two."
---
Back at Naya's apartment…
She was curled on the sofa, replaying the moment again and again. Had it been love? Had it been a lapse in judgment? Or was Nian torn in ways she couldn't understand?
Her thoughts were broken by a knock at the door.
It was Nian.
He looked like hell—hair tousled, eyes shadowed, jacket wrinkled like he'd been running all night. He didn't wait for her to invite him in. "I need to talk."
She folded her arms. "About what? About how close you and Jun were today?"
"Naya, it's not what it looked like."
She laughed, bitter. "I'm sure. Because being backed into a wall by your ex always means you're just talking about the weather."
His voice was calm, too calm. "Do you trust me?"
"I don't know anymore."
Silence. Then Nian stepped forward, closing the distance. "Let me show you something."
He reached into his coat and handed her an old photo—him and Jun in tuxedos, standing outside a mansion with black limousines in the background. Behind the photo, a note:
> "The moment you chose the battlefield over me."
—J
Naya looked up at him, eyes wide.
"I wasn't just in love with Jun," Nian said softly. "We ruled the world together once. But I wanted something more. Something real. Someone who didn't care about power."
"You think I can give you that?" Naya asked.
"I know you already do."
Then came the kiss.
Hot. Raw. Consuming.
Naya melted against him. But just when it deepened—when his hands gripped her waist, and hers tangled in his hair—
Her phone rang.
Unknown caller.
She ignored it.
It rang again.
Nian pulled back, jaw tightening. "Answer it."
She did. And the voice on the other end chilled her blood.
"You think you know everything, nurse girl," the distorted voice said. "But you're just a piece in someone else's game."
The line went
dead.
She turned to Nian. "What the hell was that?"
Nian looked pale.
And for the first time… he looked afraid.
___
The apartment reeked of expensive perfume and sweat. The air was thick with the residue of tension, passion, and something darker—like a secret hanging in the walls, waiting to crawl out and bite.
Naya stood frozen by the doorway, her eyes wide, heart pounding against her ribs like it wanted to leap from her chest and run. Before her, tangled in each other's arms, were Jun and Nian—Nian Zeyan Xu—her lover, her heartbeat. And Jun, with his perfect hair falling into his flushed face, was kissing Nian like he owned him.
The room spun.
Nian looked up. His lips were swollen. Jun's shirt hung open. A shattered wineglass lay on the floor like a crime scene.
"Naya," Nian breathed. He stepped back instantly, as if the gravity that held him to Jun had suddenly reversed. But it was too late. The damage had sunk its claws in.
Her voice came out in a whisper—raw, broken. "What is this?"
Jun, ever bold, didn't even flinch. He wiped his mouth slowly, licking the last traces of Nian's taste off his lips. "History," he said with a lazy smile. "And maybe the future, if you're smart enough to step aside."
Nian turned to him sharply. "Jun, stop it."
But Jun wasn't finished. He walked up to Naya, his shirt still undone, the glow of mischief in his eyes. "He came to me, Naya. You might think you hold his heart, but you've barely scratched the surface."
Naya slapped him.
Hard.
Jun's head jerked slightly, but he only laughed, the sound cool and amused. "So fiery. No wonder he's torn."
Nian grabbed Naya's arm gently. "Let's talk outside."
"No," she whispered. Her hands trembled. "Talk here. Or don't talk at all."
"I didn't mean for this to happen," he said, and his voice was softer, filled with guilt.
Jun folded his arms. "Didn't you?"
The confrontation dissolved into a haunting silence, broken only by the storm outside. Rain lashed at the windows like angry spirits. Lightning flashed—almost as dramatic as the fire burning behind Naya's eyes.
"I trusted you," she said finally, voice cracking. "I trusted us."
Nian stepped closer, his hand reaching for her cheek. "I didn't sleep with him. It didn't go that far."
"But it almost did." Her tone was a knife, each word a cut.
Behind them, Jun walked to the bar, pouring himself a drink like this was a casual soirée. "It's not over between us, Zeyan," he said, swirling the dark liquid in the glass. "You know that. You feel it."
The air cracked with tension.
But then, like a thunderclap in the quiet, Jun's phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
It buzzed again. And again. Until finally, with an irritated sigh, he checked it.
His face darkened.
"Excuse me," he muttered and disappeared into the other room, the door clicking shut behind him.
Naya turned to Nian, her hands clenched into fists. "I'm done. If I'm just a pawn in whatever twisted game you two have—"
"No," Nian said firmly, his voice laced with something deeper now—desperation. "You're not. You're everything. I didn't plan this. I didn't invite him here. He came to stir chaos, and I... I let it get out of hand."
Naya stared at him, silent.
"I'm falling in love with you," Nian whispered. "But Jun... he was my past. A violent, consuming past. He has claws, Naya. And he's not done."
Just then, the door opened. Jun stepped out again—this time different. His eyes were hard, sharp, like glass on skin. And there was a faint, cruel smile on his lips.
Nian's phone vibrated.
A single message flashed on the screen: "We warned you to leave the past buried. Now she'll pay the price."
Nian's breath caught.
He turned pale.
And Naya noticed.
"What is it?" she asked.
Nian quickly locked the screen. "Nothing. Just the hospital."
Jun smirked. "Isn't it funny," he said quietly, "how the past never really dies? It just waits... until you're weak."
Naya looked between them, her instincts screaming that something far darker than just old romance was brewing. Jun wasn't just here for love. He had an agenda—and she had just stepped into the center of it.
Outside, thunder shattered the sky.
The storm had only just begun.