LOGINHARRISON'S POV Ruby filled the electric kettle in silence, the sound of running water unusually loud in the stillness of the kitchen, and then took out two mugs from the cupboard as though the movement itself gave her something to hold on to. She was wearing dark leggings and an oversized sweater I had once bought for her at Camden Market. I had told her it was for myself at the time, pretending it was an impulse purchase, but even then I knew the truth of it. I had known she would end up wearing it. She always wore my sweaters. She said she liked the way they smelled, as though fabric could carry a person’s presence more faithfully than memory ever could.“Where’s Madison?” I asked quietly, though I already feared the answer.“Asleep,” Ruby said without turning around. “It’s nearly eleven.”When the kettle boiled, she poured the water into each mug with careful precision and dropped the tea bags in, stirring them gently until the liquid darkened. The smell of peppermint rose between
HARRISON'S POV The same WPC who had shadowed me for the last forty-eight hours handed me my tennis racket along with a parcel containing my watch, wallet, ID cards and shoelaces. I took it all without speaking, the objects feeling oddly detached from me, as though they belonged to someone else entirely. I had to count out my money, including the loose change, and sign for everything before they would release me.The clock on the charge room wall read 9.45 p.m. I stared at it for a moment longer than necessary, trying to anchor myself. What day was it? Wednesday. Seven days until Christmas.A small silver tree sat on the front counter, decorated with a handful of uneven baubles and a star that leaned slightly to one side, as if even it had given up trying. Behind it hung a banner stretched across the wall: Peace and Goodwill to All Men. The words felt almost offensive in their brightness.The WPC offered to call me a cab. I nodded, not trusting my voice, and waited in the reception a
RUBY'S POVI woke up to chaos.My phone has been beeping none stop and reluctantly I reached for it. The screen lit up, and for a second, I just stared at it, my vision still blurred from sleep. Then the notifications loaded fully, and whatever calm I had woken up with disintegrated instantly.Missed calls. Dozens of them.Messages, some from people I knew, most from numbers I didn’t recognize.And then the notifications I couldn’t ignore.Trending posts.Tagged headlines.Stock alerts.My chest tightened as I tapped into one of the messages, my thumb hesitating just briefly before committing to the mistake. The article opened, and there it was—my face, frozen mid-laugh from some event weeks ago, now twisted into something scandalous simply by association.“Richard Scott’s Daughter Linked to Alleged Criminal Figure.”Another headline.“Ruby Scott Affair With Suspected Trafficker Sparks Outrage.”My stomach dropped.The words blurred together as I scrolled—phrases like dangerous man,
RUBY'S POVI needed air.I needed distance from the chaos, from the noise, from the suffocating weight of everything that had been happening around me. My thoughts had become too loud, too tangled, and if I didn’t step away, I was certain I would lose myself in them.That was how I found myself returning to Harrison’s company.The moment my car slowed to a stop outside the building, I knew I had made a mistake.They were everywhere.Press vans lined the street like vultures circling a carcass, their antennas raised, their engines idling. Cameras flashed even before I stepped out, as though they had been waiting for me specifically, watching, anticipating. The second the door opened and my heels touched the pavement, they descended.“Miss Ruby! Miss Ruby!”Microphones were shoved toward my face before I could even straighten properly. The noise hit me all at once—voices overlapping, questions colliding, flashes blinding.“What can you tell us about the shooting?”“Is it true the victim
HARRISON'S POV Ruiz had been waiting for me. A cigarette burned slowly in the ashtray between us, its thin ribbon of smoke curling upward as though it had all the time in the world. He stared at it with unnerving concentration, watching the paper blacken and the ash lengthen into a fragile, misshapen tower that looked as though it might collapse at the slightest disturbance.“I thought you were quitting,” I said.“I am,” he replied without looking at me. “I like to watch.”The ash gave way and toppled in on itself. Ruiz nudged the ashtray aside with a small, dismissive movement, as though the moment had served its purpose. Then he nodded, almost to himself.With only the two of us in the room, the space felt larger, emptier, the silence stretching out between us like something tangible. Ruiz leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the table. His black brogues were worn at the heels, the leather creased and tired. Above one sock, on the pale skin of his ankle, there was a car
HARRISON'S POV The mattress had long since given up pretending to be anything soft. It had compressed beneath my hip and shoulder until it felt like I was lying on poured concrete, unforgiving and cold, pressing into bone and nerve alike. The moment I stretched out on it, the familiar cycle began—blood throbbing loudly in my ears, my pulse echoing in the hollow quiet, and my mind… refusing to rest.I had wanted sleep. Not just sleep, but that deep, blank oblivion where nothing existed—not fear, not doubt, not the tightening coil of dread that had taken up permanent residence inside me. But instead of drifting into that quiet nothingness, my thoughts sharpened, magnified, each one more intrusive than the last. I found myself chasing them, as if confronting them head-on might somehow dull their edge.By now, Ruiz would have spoken to Ruby.I could see it clearly—the charge room, the harsh lighting, Ruby sitting there with her hands clenched tightly together, trying to remain composed w
RUBY’S POVMy scream tore out of my throat before I could stop it.“Logan!”The name echoed inside the small panic room, my voice shaking with terror as the metal rod trembled in my hands. Logan stood in the doorway, the gun in his hand steady as he pointed it straight at my face.For a moment, nei
RUBY’S POVThe whisper behind me froze the blood in my veins.“You shouldn’t wear what’s mine.”My heart slammed violently against my ribs.I spun around so fast the room tilted for a moment, my eyes darting toward the open window.“Who’s there?” I demanded, though my voice came out thinner than I
RUBY’S POVFor a moment, neither of us spoke. The air in Harrison’s bedroom suddenly felt too thick to breathe.My eyes stayed glued to the phone in his hand. To the photograph.My stomach twisted violently, it was unmistakably me. Curled slightly on the bed.The silk sheets tangled around my legs.
HARRISON’S POVThe conference room in Grey & Carter Legal was exactly the kind of place people get contracts that will change their lives. Dark wooden panels lined the walls, the long table polished to a mirror finish. The blinds were half drawn against the afternoon sun, leaving the room washed in







