Chapter 6 – The Crack in the Mirror

POV: Alex Arthin

The picture glowed on my phone screen like a sin I couldn’t erase.

Avery’s half-naked body curled in my sheets; her lips tilted in that teasing smirk that made promises I never should’ve believed. It was the very kind that had already gotten me into trouble more times than I could count.

I froze, my thumb hovering over the screen, and my pulse hammering against my throat. In the window’s reflection, I looked like a ghost, hollow-eyed, jaw locked, the kind of man who dug his own grave and still smiled at the taste of dirt.

The moonlight was spilling in through the blinds, dimming the edges of the photo, but it didn’t soften what I saw. Her smooth skin. The gold chain glinting against her throat. And behind it all, my reflection, staring back at me through the glass, trapped somewhere between lust and disgust.

I shouldn’t have opened it.

Not now.

Not with Seraphina asleep on my bed, wrapped in my gray blanket, her soft breathing steady. Her innocence draped over me like quiet accusation.

Avery’s caption burned through me: You forgot this, lover.

I flipped the phone face-down on the nightstand, as if burying it could erase what I’d done. My hand dragged over my face, the air thick with the lingering scent of perfume and sweat, hers and mine, tangled and fading.

The night had been too long.

The lies, too heavy. I’d told myself Avery was nothing, just release, a way to drown the noise, the pressure, the endless pretending. Seraphina was too pure for that world. Too soft. Too trusting. She didn’t see how bored I’d grown of her sweetness, how her innocence made me feel small instead of wanted.

Still, guilt twisted deep. She didn’t deserve the truth of me, the hunger that never stopped, the restlessness that ruined everything I touched.

She shifted slightly, a quiet sigh slipping from her throat. Her hair spilled across the pillow, dark waves brushing her bare shoulder as the sheet slid lower. The moonlight kissed her skin. My chest tightened.

She looked like peace, something I could never touch without breaking.

Peaceful. Untouched by the rot inside me.

The thought hurt.

I wasn’t a bad man or at least, I kept trying to believe that. But lately, it was getting harder to tell where the lies ended and where I began. Avery knew how to crawl under my skin, how to make me forget. Her body, her words, her laugh. She was the noise that drowned the quiet.

Seraphina, though… she was sunlight. The kind that made you think you could start over.

And I was the kind of man who proved you couldn’t.

I looked at her again, her face half-buried in the pillow, the curve of her lips soft in sleep. There was something cruel about how perfect she looked. She looked beautiful and breakable.

If she ever finds out…

No. She wouldn’t. I’d make sure of it.

I turned away; my chest was tight. “Don’t look,” I muttered under my breath.

The silence pressed in. My guilt had teeth.

Then the phone buzzed again.

A vibration against the wood.

My pulse jumped. I reached for it, hesitating, dreading, but unable to stop.

The name blinked across the screen. Layla.

Of course.

I almost laughed. The universe had a wicked sense of humor. Layla was a mistake that refused to fade. Older, dangerous, and too damn good at using what she knew. She didn’t care who I was with, only that I still answered.

Her message blinked:

Layla: You disappeared last two nights. Don’t make me come looking, Arthin.

I pocketed the phone, cursed under my breath, and rose carefully from the bed. Seraphina stirred but didn’t wake. My feet hit the cold floor, the hum of the city faint beyond the glass; traffic, wind, fragments of nightlife.

Every step toward the bathroom felt like sneaking into my own grave.

I closed the door halfway and leaned over the sink, gripping the edges until my knuckles went white. The mirror showed me what I didn’t want to see, a man split between pleasure and panic.

I pressed Call.

“Layla,” I said softly, voice low. “It’s late.”

Her voice poured through the line like silk and smoke. “You sound nervous, Alex.”

“I’m not.”

“Liar,” she murmured, amusement threading through her tone. “You only sound like that when you’re pretending you’ve moved on.”

My jaw tightened. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, but I’ve already started.” Her voice dropped an octave, velvet and dangerous. “Tell me, are you still playing house with that little one? The one who looks at you like you hung the moon?”

“Don’t call her that,” I said, sharper than I meant.

Layla laughed softly, the sound curling through me like heat.

“Then what should I call her? The charity case? The girl you keep around to remind yourself you’re still capable of being loved?”

I clenched my jaw until it hurt. “Stop.”

“Why?” she purred. “You know I’m right. You feed on innocence, Alex. It makes you feel clean. But when she sleeps, you call me. Because I’m the dirt you actually crave.”

My chest tightened. “You think too highly of yourself.”

“Oh, do I?” she breathed. I could almost hear her smile. “Say it then. Say you don’t miss me.”

I stared at my reflection, the faint mark on my neck, the guilt in my eyes. My throat burned.

“I don’t,” I whispered.

“Liar,” she said again, softer this time. “You miss the way I ruin you.”

Her voice wrapped around me, dragging old memories out of the dark, her fingers on my skin, her laugh in my ear, the way she said my name like a secret.

I exhaled shakily. “You always talk too much.”

“Then shut me up,” she whispered. “Come over. Now.”

Her words hit me low, electric, and for one insane second, I almost said yes.

Instead, I forced a breath. “I can’t wait to have you beside me,” I said flatly, the words mechanical, empty. It was easier to lie than to fight.

She chuckled, low and satisfied. “Good boy.”

The sound made my stomach twist.

“I have to go,” I muttered.

Before she could answer, something behind me shifted, soft, almost imperceptible.

A creak. Then silence.

The hair on my neck stood up.

I turned. The bathroom door was open wider than before, moonlight spilling across the floor, stretching toward the hallway. A shadow lingered just beyond it.

Then I heard it…

My name.

“Alex…”

My blood turned to ice.

That voice.

The phone slipped from my hand, hitting the tile with a sound that cracked through the silence.

“Seraphina?” My voice broke, the word catching in my throat.

I took a step toward the door, heart pounding hard enough to shake the walls.