Zhan's pov.
The words sliced through the air like a blade.
My chest clenched, but before I could speak, Dre said flatly, "I know."
But it sounded forced, the kind of "I know" you spit out to protect the one sitting across from you.
Ziyi's grin widened. "Lies. You're covering up for him. You always were weak when it came to loyalty. Poor Dre." She laughed again, a little too loud, a little too gleeful.
But then Dre set down his fork. His hands were trembling, not from fear, but from fury. His voice, when it came, was ice.
"I've been friends with Black for years," he hissed, glaring at her. "And he never once got high on his fix. Never. So when I heard about the overdose, I knew it wasn't him. I knew it was Wang."
Ziyi's smirk spread wider, like a wolf catching scent of blood.
But Dre leaned forward, eyes burning with a rage I'd never seen in him before.
"And you know what, Ziyi?" His voice cracked like a whip. "Good. Good that he did it. Because if Wang hadn't, I would've. I would've put a knife through both of their throats myself."
His words landed heavy, final. He shoved his plate away and sat back, shaking with fury.
"Now I just feel sorry for you."
Ziyi's smile slithered back, slow and cruel, like she'd been waiting for this exact crack in the armor.
"Oh, Dre," she cooed, her voice dripping poison. "Always so angry. Always pretending you're tougher than you are. But deep down, you're just the boy who begged not to be left alone. That's why you clung to your exe. That's why you slept with Zhan."
Her words hit like a whip. The room went silent.
Dre stiffened, his jaw tight, eyes flicking toward me, but I didn't move. My chest burned, my throat locked, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
She leaned back, sipping her wine like this was nothing more than morning gossip.
"And you, Zhan," she continued, her gaze sliding to me now. "You're no better. You think you're strong because you survived what I gave you? Please." Her laugh was sharp, cruel. "You were a toy. Nothing more. Passed around until you broke. I made you. Without me, you'd still be some nobody in the gutter. Face it, you've always belonged to me."
My grip on the table tightened until my knuckles went white.
"And Wang?" She tilted her head toward him, her smile widening like a knife. "Wang doesn't see either of you. He pities you. That's all. He takes you in like strays—broken toys to keep him company until he gets bored. He'll go home to his wife and daughter, and you two will still be here, fighting over scraps of his affection."
Dre shot up from his chair, trembling with rage, tears already welling in his eyes. "Shut up, Ziyi."
"Why?" she mocked, eyes glinting. "Did I touch a nerve? Or is it because you know I'm right?"
The words rolled out calm, almost too calm, and I could feel the shock ripple through the room. Even Wang's head snapped toward me, his jaw tight. Dre froze with his fists clenched at his sides.
I let the silence stretch a beat before leaning forward, my eyes locked on Ziyi's. "You're right about everything. I was a toy. I was broken. But you know what else?" My voice dropped, cold and steady. "Now I get to show you the same mercy you showed me."
For the first time, her laughter faltered. Then, just as quickly, she threw her head back and laughed harder, shrill and sharp.
"Oh, please," she sneered, shaking her head. "You don't have the heart, Zhan. You never did. That's why you broke so easily. You think this little act scares me?"
Her eyes darted, landing on Wang. And her grin sharpened like a blade.
"Do you even know whose idea it was to send you both to prison?" She purred. "Your precious lover's wife."
The air left the room like someone had pulled the plug.
Wang stiffened beside me. He didn't move, didn't speak, but I felt it. The weight of that hit. The truth in it.
My own heart slammed against my ribs, the memory of his wife's cold smile flashing through my mind.
Ziyi laughed again, wicked and triumphant. "Oh, the betrayal stings, doesn't it? She wanted you out of the way, Zhan. And Dre was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wanted Wang to herself, untouched by the filth he dragged home. And guess what? It worked."
The fury in my chest boiled so hot I almost couldn't breathe.
But before I could speak, Dre's voice cut through, sharp as a blade.
"We know."
Ziyi's smile froze.
"And she's in for a surprise," Dre added, his voice dark, raw, almost unrecognizable.
Ziyi blinked, the confidence faltering.
And I leaned back in my chair, slow, deliberate, forcing a thin smile. "Checkmate, Ziyi."
"Why don't we have a pool party, since we invited her minions over to a pool party, Let's make it real," I said, letting the words slip from my lips like venom dressed in sugar.
For a heartbeat, the room stayed quiet. Then Wang's mouth curved into the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. He pulled out his phone, already barking orders, drinks, strippers, men, the works. By the sound of his voice, he wasn't ordering entertainment. He was laying bait.
Dre stretched, forcing a smirk through the lingering storm in his eyes. "If it's a party, it better feel like one." He grabbed his phone, dialing fast, rattling off orders for food big enough to feed an army.
Ezra, smooth as always snatched up his jacket and winked. "Leave the bodies to me. Free drinks, free food, and a thank-you envelope stuffed with cash. They'll come running."
Ziyi sat frozen in her chair, her wine glass trembling just slightly against her lips. She tried to laugh, but it came out brittle, strained.
"You wouldn't dare," she hissed.
I leaned across the table, close enough that she could feel the venom in my words. "You brought the wolves, Ziyi. We're just giving them a feast."
Outside, I could already hear the hum of deliveries pulling into the driveway, the house slowly transforming into something glittering, loud, and alive. A carnival of lights and liquor, hiding the trap beneath.
The stage was being set.
And this time, she, and every last one of her minions, were going to choke on it.
An hour later, the house was unrecognizable. The once-quiet walls throbbed with bass, the air thick with perfume, smoke, and sweat. Half-naked men and women spilled across the living room, dancing like their lives depended on it. Bottles cracked open, liquid gold poured into glasses, and laughter rose like smoke from a fire.
Ezra moved like he owned the chaos. Phone in one hand, drink in the other, he snapped picture after picture. His grin was devilish as he typed out the message:
You're missing.
He hit send, and I knew the photos had reached Ziyi's housemates.
Downstairs, the pool glowed electric blue, the surface littered with floating cups and neon reflections. Ezra didn't waste time, he herded the crowd down, music spilling after them as they screamed and stripped off what little clothing they had left.
From upstairs, I watched it all through the glass. The party looked wild, like freedom, but for me, it was suffocating.
I stayed put. My brain was overloaded, clogged with last night's fights, today's revelations, and the bitter taste of Ziyi sitting calmly, sipping wine as if she wasn't about to be dragged into hell.
And Wang... Wang was mercifully silent. He didn't look at me, didn't push, didn't pry. Just sat across the room, his hand clenching and unclenching like he was holding himself back from tearing the world apart.
For once, I was grateful. Because if he had opened his mouth, I wasn't sure whether I would've kissed him or killed him.
The movie played quietly in the background, but the tension in the room was far louder. I was calm, too calm and Ziyi felt it. She couldn't sit still with her fear, so she lashed out the only way she knew how.
"Dre is poor, Zhan is poorer. Filth and dirt. I wonder what Wang ever saw in you." She laughed like venom dripping from her tongue.
Dre's jaw tightened, his eyes sharp as knives. "Well, at least I'm going to live a long life," he hissed. "Can't say the same for you."
Before I could speak, Wang moved. He slid his laptop across the table, sat himself neatly between me and Dre, and opened it. His fingers danced across the keyboard like a pianist hitting the final notes of a deadly song.
Click. Click. Click.
Minutes later, his lips stretched into a grin that made my stomach turn. "You don't have nearly as much money as I expected," Wang said smoothly, tilting the screen toward her.
Ziyi's face drained of color. "Is that my account?"
"Yes," Wang replied casually, like he was commenting on the weather. "And it'll be empty in... ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One—"
He spun the screen again, flashing her now-empty balance. "Tada."
Her scream rattled through the room. She lurched forward, wild, shaking.
At the same moment, Dre's phone buzzed. He checked it, and his grin spread wide. "Ohhh," he drawled, lifting the screen so I could see. "I'm forty thousand dollars richer."
Ziyi's scream turned animalistic, raw with rage. "I'll kill you!"
Her hand shot for her cup, and she hurled it across the room. It smashed against the wall, red wine bleeding down like blood. We ducked instinctively, the shards clattering harmlessly around us.
But before she could move again, Dre stood—tray in hand. Without hesitation, he swung.
The sharp edge cracked across her face, the sound a sickening mix of metal and flesh. She stumbled backward, clutching her cheek, her scream turning into a choked sob.
And Wang?
He only grinned, watching her fall apart like it was the best show he'd seen all year.
Her scream choked into a gasp, her body stumbling sideways, a thin line of blood from her lip. She clutched her face, eyes wild, mascara smudging as she glared at us like a wounded wolf.
"You—filthy—bastards!" she shrieked.
Dre stood over her, tray still in his hand, chest heaving. "Forty thousand dollars richer and still not half of what you owe us," he hissed.
Wang didn't even look up, just kept typing, cool as ever. "Scream louder, Ziyi. Your minions will hear you from the pool. Or maybe they're too drunk to care."
I just sat back, sipping my drink. Too calm. Too controlled. And that was what scared her the most. I could see it in her trembling hands, the way her bravado cracked.
"You think you're untouchable," she spat, voice shaking. "But when they get here—"
"They already are," I cut her off, pointing lazily toward the monitor. On the screen, Jin and Yang were dancing half-naked at the pool, bottles in hand, surrounded by strangers grinding on them.
Her face crumbled.
Dre smirked. "Guess they don't care about their precious little slut after all."
Wang closed his laptop with a snap, his grin turning razor sharp. "Now, Ziyi. Shall we play another game?"