Chapter 2
Vicious woke with a start, a stranger lying beside him. She shook him roughly, throwing him against the pillows, and before he could react, she tossed a wad of cash onto the bed. "Take it," she said, her voice sharp, almost pleading. "But don't think I'll go anywhere—I'm always here for you."
Vicious's eyes narrowed. He stared at her for a moment, then his voice cut through the tension. "Get out. I don't want to see you again."
She hesitated, her fingers brushing over the thick stack of bills, glimmering under the dim morning light. "It's a lot… I know I can help you…" Her tone trailed, filled with false confidence. But he didn't flinch. Without another word, he shoved her toward the door. The slam echoed in the room, final and unforgiving.
Elsewhere, Thalia hurried to catch Alex before he left for work. She balanced his lunch in her hands, slightly out of breath. "Here's your lunch. Have a safe day," she said softly, her eyes full of love and concern.
Alex smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Thank you, my love," he said, pressing a tender kiss to her hair. Then he left, his car gliding down the street, leaving Thalia at the doorway, a small pang of unease in her chest. She shook it off, unaware of the darkness waiting.
That evening, Thalia was neatly set on the dining table, but Thalia sat alone, her appetite gone. She dialed Alex's number repeatedly, each ring unanswered. Anxiety clawed at her chest as she paced the house, wringing her hands, then returned to the table, staring at the meal untouched. Every second dragged painfully.
Finally, the phone rang. Relief surged through her—until the voice on the other end ordered her to hurry to a nearby restaurant. Her heart skipped. "What's happening?" she whispered to herself, racing down the streets, shoes pounding against the pavement.
When she arrived, horror froze her in place. An ambulance stood outside, its siren silent but ominous. Paramedics wheeled a stretcher toward the entrance, and her world tilted. Alex lay there, pale and still.
"Alex!" she screamed, rushing forward, tears streaming down her cheeks. She tried to reach him, to hold him, to shake him awake, but strong hands gently restrained her. "Please, calm down," they urged. "You can't help him like this."
She stumbled after the stretcher into the hospital, her legs weak, heart hammering. The sterile walls and blinding lights could not shield her from the dread coiling in her stomach. And then the words came, shattering everything she believed.
"He… didn't make it. We couldn't determine what happened."
Time stopped. The ground seemed to give way beneath her. She sank to the floor, gripping nothing, hearing only the echo of her own cries. Disbelief and grief washed over her in relentless waves. The man she loved, her anchor, her world… gone.
Through the long, unbearable night, Thalia remained at the hospital, clutching the memory of his last kiss and the warmth of his embrace. Outside, the city slept, unaware of the storm that had torn through her life. Morning came, but nothing felt the same.
The world had changed.