THE WEAKNESS HE WON’T EXPECT

∆EZEKIEL∆

"Open the damn door, Zeke.... I know you’re inside." 

Madison’s voice crashed through the silence of my apartment along with the violent pounding that rattled the door on its hinges.

I didn’t move.

I lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling that hadn’t changed in three days, watching the faint crack that ran across it like a scar that refused to heal. 

The room smelled stale, a mixture of sweat, alcohol, and neglect, and somewhere near my feet, an empty bottle rolled lazily when the pounding hit the door again.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table for what felt like the hundredth time.

I ignored that too.

"Zeke, don’t make me break this door," Madison shouted, his voice rough with something that sounded dangerously close to panic more than angry.

I let out a slow breath, but my body refused to cooperate. Even lifting my hand felt like a task too heavy to complete.

The pounding stopped.

For a moment, there was nothing, I thought he left already.

Then the familiar sound of a key sliding into the lock echoed through the apartment.

The door opened, footsteps entered and silence followed.

I could feel his eyes on me before he said anything.

Madison stood at the edge of my bedroom, his chest rising and falling unevenly, his hair messy like he had run his hands through it too many times on the way here. 

His gaze moved across the room, taking in the bottles, the closed curtains, the darkness, and finally, me.

"You look like shit," he said quietly with a sigh.

A dry laugh left my throat before I could stop it.

"Thanks," I replied, my voice hoarse from disuse.

He didn’t laugh.

He walked further inside, his shoe nudging aside a bottle before he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed beside me.

"You missed almost thirty calls," he started complaining with a furious tone. "Your boss and colleague called me because of your disappearance all of a sudden. Do you have any idea how insane all these sounds?" 

I said nothing, I kept staring at the ceiling.

Madison waited for my response. He had always been good at that.

Waiting till I'm ready, he never pushed or forced me to speak. He just stayed with me, giving me the space to speak when I was ready.

"I went to the hospital," he said eventually.

That got my attention.

My throat tightened, but I still didn’t turn my head.

"She asked about you," he continued, and his voice was softer now while talking about my sister. "She asked why you hadn’t come to see her in the last three days." 

My chest tightened at those words.

"I told her you were working overtime." His voice faltered slightly. "She looked at me like she knew I was lying... Do you even know how hard it was for me to convince her that everything is okay?" 

My eyes burned, I swallowed hard, but it didn’t help.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.

Madison exhaled sharply, his hands sliding down his face in frustration.

"What the hell is going on, Zeke?" He demanded. "Talk to me...." 

I closed my eyes tightly.

For a moment, I thought about lying, about saying nothing, about pretending everything was fine, but the truth was already rotting inside me.

"I slept with him," I whispered.

Madison was stunned for a second as if I was speaking something ridiculous out of nowhere, but carefully he asked, "With who?" 

My lips parted. "Zachary." 

He let out a small, disbelieving hum, leaning back slightly as if trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

"My dear Zeke, there are many people named Zachary," he said calmly, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. "If you just say Zachary, which one am I supposed to consider?" 

His eyes searched my face, amused at first.

"Or…" he added lightly, almost teasing, "do you expect me to assume you mean Zachary? The king of the underworld?" 

The smile stayed on his lips for only a second longer, because I didn’t smile back.

I didn’t laugh, I didn’t deny it either.

The amusement in his expression faded, replaced slowly by something else, something colder and cautious.

"Wait," he said quietly, and his voice had changed compared to earlier.

"Are you telling me…" He swallowed, his eyes locking onto mine. "The Zachary you slept with… and the Zachary I’m talking about…" 

He didn’t finish the sentence, he didn’t need to.

"Unfortunately," I said, my throat felt too dry to say anything more, "yes." 

The word fell between us like a body hitting the ground.

Madison stared at me, really stared at me making sure I'm serious.

"Zeke," he whispered, disbelief cracking through his voice, "did you actually sleep with Zachary, the king of the underworld?" 

I couldn’t speak, all I could do was nod, and his name lingered in the air between us, like a death sentence that had already been signed.

Madison didn’t move, he didn’t breathe either as if he forgot how to breathe.

Then he stood up so suddenly the bed creaked beneath the shift.

"Are you out of your mind?" He snapped, and his voice exploded through the room. "That’s Zachary! People disappear for less than that!"

"I know!" I shouted back, matching his pitch.

My hands curled into fists.

"I know," I repeated, weaker this time. "I know everything and I didn't sleep with him for fun.... It happened accidentally when I was not in the right state of mind." 

Madison stared at me, his chest heaving.

I rubbed the back of my neck, and said, "And now… Those bastards want me to seduce him, use him, and destroy him."

Madison blinked with a confused face, "What?" 

"They offered to pay for my sister's surgery," I continued, my voice hollow. "If I get close to him and if I can manage to bring him down, they'll save my sister."

Madison looked at me like he didn’t recognize me. "And you said yes...." 

It wasn’t a question, it was just the clarification he needed.

I nodded.

He let out a strangled laugh.

"This is insane," he muttered, pacing the room. "This is nothing but suicide." 

"I didn’t have a choice...." 

"You always have a choice!"

"Not this time!" I argued with him with a straight face, those words tore out of me, and my vision blurred.

Madison exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face as if he could wipe away the reality of what I had just told him.

"If this is about money," he said, finally, his voice was quieter now, steadier. "I can arrange something."

I looked at him, not with hope, not with relief either, but with the kind of tired honesty that only comes when hope has already died.

"Ten million dollars," I said, and the number sounded even heavier the second time.

I held his gaze, forcing him to understand the weight of it. "Can you arrange that?" 

Silence answered me.

Not because he didn’t want to, but because we both knew the truth, some numbers were too big for miracles.

"What was I supposed to do, Maddy?" I demanded, my voice cracking. "Let her die?" 

He fell silent, I forced myself to continue.

"Neither the money nor winning him, both seem to be impossible for someone like me… incompetent and useless...." I whispered in a regretful tone.

He gently placed his hand on my shoulder, I lowered my head and told him the rest, "I met him, tried to get close to him, in return he pointed a gun at me, he looked at me like I was nothing.... Like I was someone whose existence can be wiped out with one pull of the trigger." 

My throat tightened.

"I thought that was it," I admitted. "I thought I was never going to see her again.... I thought it would be the end of me." 

Madison stopped pacing, and looked at me.

Then he said something that made my stomach twist. "He didn’t kill you."

I frowned at his words. "What? Are you disappointed that I'm not killed by him?" 

"Zachary kills threats," Madison said slowly. "Immediately, without any hesitation.... That’s what he’s known for." 

He stepped closer. "But he let you live, doesn’t that mean something?" 

I stared at him, I hadn’t thought about it like that.

Madison exhaled, and said suddenly, "Get up." 

I blinked with a puzzled expression, "What?" 

"Get up dude," he repeated firmly. "You smell like death!” 

"I’m not in the mood for your jokes." 

"I’m not joking." 

He grabbed my arm and pulled, "First shower and get changed."

I resisted with frustration because his words didn’t make any sense at that moment, "What's the point of doing all those?" 

"The point," he said sharply, "is that if you’re really going to do this, you’re not doing it like this." 

I hesitated for some reason, and his voice softened slightly. "I’m not letting you walk into hell alone and unprepared.”

Something in my chest cracked, and reluctantly I nodded.

An hour later, I sat on the couch, freshly showered, and wore clean clothes that felt foreign against my skin after wearing the same stinking outfit for three days.

Madison paced in front of me and said as if he had finally figured something out, "You can't seduce him." 

I frowned, "Can't seduce him? Then what am I supposed to do? Play chess with him? Seducing him is literally my mission dude! 

"No, you're not understanding my point," Madison replied. "You shouldn't seduce men like Zachary." 

He stopped walking and looked at me, "you have to make him seduce you!" 

I gulped hard at those tricky words, "What do you mean?" 

Madison’s eyes softened.

"He responds to vulnerability," he said. "Not strength.... Not confidence, but to vulnerability." 

I stared at him as if he was speaking a language I wasn’t meant to understand.

"You don’t need to pretend, or learn something new with that fish brain of yours," he continued. "You’re already exactly what he didn’t expect." 

My chest tightened.

"Terrified," Madison said gently. "Clumsy, broken and desperate." 

His voice dropped, "You’re exactly the kind of person he’ll never see as a threat… until it’s too late."

I looked down at my hands, and asked quietly, "Everything is fine, but in the process of doing all these, what if he kills me?" 

Madison didn’t answer immediately.

He just looked at me, then he said the one thing that made my heart stop.

"Then you make sure," he said quietly, "that by the time he pulls the trigger…. He’d rather die than let you go!"