The silence after pressing send was deafening. I sat alone in my apartment, the cold glow of the surveillance feed flickering across my face. The email was gone, the video attached, the damage set in motion. Yet, everything felt... still.I had expected a rush of satisfaction, a surge of power, but all I felt was the weight. The weight of every bad decision stacking on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I refreshed the news feed on my phone again.Nothing yet.The scandal would hit. It always did. The media didn’t care about facts, just blood in the water. Helen’s career, her perfect little image, was seconds away from shattering.And yet, the silence in the apartment mocked me.Jack was gone. The surveillance feeds kept looping. And all that remained was me and my thoughts.I stood up, pacing the living room.Why did it feel like I had already lost? I should’ve felt victorious. I should’ve been savoring the moment.Instead, every shadow in the room felt like a threat.That voice.
The city skyline stretched wide outside my penthouse, a canvas of cold glass and indifferent lights. People down there moved like ants, lost in their small lives. But up here, above it all, the air was thinner, still, suffocating. I loosened my tie, poured a glass of whiskey, and sat in the leather armchair by the window. The drink tasted like smoke and regret.I had seen her.Helen.The way she laughed. The way she leaned into him.Jace.His hand had been at the small of her back, his lips too damn close to hers. And then they kissed. Such a bold move. In public. Like I didn’t exist. Like our history was dust beneath their feet.But I did exist. And I wasn’t dust.I took a long sip, forcing the burn down.She had no claim on me. None. Just like I had no claim on her. She had signed the papers, severed the ties. Six years was a lifetime in my world. In theory, we were ghosts to each other.So why the hell did it still burn?Why couldn’t I erase that image from my mind?I leaned back
The city lights blurred past as Manny drove, but my mind wasn’t with them. I sat in the back seat, arms crossed, staring out at the world like a spectator. After a long day on set, most people would be exhausted enough to shut off their brain. But not me. And most importantly, not tonight.I kept seeing his face, I didn't even know why. Ashton.The way he looked at me across the lot today—it wasn’t just anger. It wasn’t even jealousy. It was betrayal. As if I had wronged him. As if I owed him something. The nerve of that man.I let out a breath through clenched teeth.He had no right. None.He was the one who ruined us. Six years ago, he was the one who decided his secretary was worth more than our marriage, more than our vows, more than our family. Rose. The name still tasted bitter.And yet…That look in his eyes—like a bruise I couldn’t ignore.“Manny, please take me straight home,” I ordered quietly.“You got it, Ms. Helen.”The rest of the ride was silent.By the time I s
Dinner felt like a chore. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed to do something that felt normal. Something to remind me I was still just a person. So I stood in the kitchen, making a simple pasta dish. Boiled some water, added some salt, stirred the whole thing. The steps were automatic, but my mind wasn’t fooled. It was still stuck in that alley, replaying that voice.The sauce simmered as I set the table for one. The house felt too big, too quiet. Every tick of the clock sounded louder than it should. I tried to shake it off, to eat. The first bite tasted like nothing. The second was no better. But I kept chewing, hoping it would help calm me down.It didn’t.Halfway through, I froze.Footsteps.Soft. Slow. Right outside the front door.I held my breath, fork in mid-air. My heart thudded in my throat. Maybe I was imagining things. Probably just nerves.Then another step.I stood, chair scraping the floor. Quietly, I walked to the front window. I moved the curtain just enough to peek t
The silence in the car followed me all the way home like a ghost clinging to my back. Even the hum of the tires against the pavement couldn’t drown out the sound of that voice in my head. The voice from the alley. The threat. The one that knew.I parked in my driveway, hands still trembling against the steering wheel. I didn't move for a full minute. Just sat there, watching the reflections shift across my windshield. Afraid to go inside. Afraid that maybe they were already in there, and maybe the voice had eyes around me. But I had to move, I had to act like I wasn’t unraveling.I stepped out and walked slowly up the steps. My keys felt foreign in my hand, heavy, slippery. I unlocked the front door and stepped in. The house was cold, still. Even though I hadn’t left any windows open, it felt like a draft had slithered in behind me. I dropped my bag by the door and walked straight to the living room. Nothing looked touched. Not the pillows. Not the vases. But I still felt it—a
I was three blocks from home when my phone rang.At first, I almost didn’t answer. The number was unfamiliar—no caller ID, just a string of numbers that didn’t match anything in my contacts. I figured it might be a telemarketer, or someone from Henry’s new school. But something about it… made me answer.“Hello?”There was a pause.Then a voice. Male. Low. Distorted.“Rose.”A chill rippled through me. The voice was familiar—but not familiar in the way that brings comfort. Familiar in the way something from a dream is, right before it becomes a nightmare.“Who is this?” I asked.“You need to meet me. Today. One hour. Fulton & Pine. The alley behind the florist.”I pulled the car to the curb, heart pounding. “Excuse me? Who the hell are you?”Another pause.Then the words that turned my stomach to acid.“If you don’t show up, what you did six years ago... will no longer be a secret.”My throat closed.I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.“What... what are you talking about?” I finall