Chapter 4

But this time, she wasn't screaming or scratching at the glass.

She just stood there, deathly still, staring at me with a look of profound sorrow and absolute despair. Blood trickled down her forehead. And her stomach... it was heavily swollen. She was pregnant.

Slowly, she raised a mangled finger and pointed toward the door.

Don't let your guard down. They... have other tricks.

A jolt of pure terror spiked through me. I let out a shriek and scrambled backward until my spine slammed into the hard wall.

I couldn't stay here.

Even with the door bolted, even with the cops having just left, this place was no longer safe.

I sprinted into my bedroom like a madwoman, grabbed a duffel bag, and frantically shoved in a few changes of clothes and my important documents. Just as I yanked the zipper shut, my phone began to vibrate violently.

It was Bryan.

"Zoey, baby, please pick up!"

"I am so sorry! That was all my mom and brother's doing. I swear I had no idea they brought drugs!"

"I promise you, I just wanted to see you! Please give me a chance to explain!"

Staring at the stream of hypocritical lies popping up on my screen, my stomach turned.

Block. Delete.

I did it all in one motion. Then, I dialed Tracy.

"Tracy, I need to crash at your place. Right now."

Half an hour later, I dragged my suitcase through Tracy's front door, looking like a total wreck.

Tracy poured me a mug of hot cocoa. Seeing my shell-shocked state, her face was a mask of pure disbelief.

"My God... they actually tried to rob and kill you!" She clenched her fists, then suddenly gasped. "Wait! Did you change your door code before you left?!"

I clutched the warm mug, my eyes turning cold. I slowly shook my head.

"No."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Tracy shrieked. "Bryan knows the code! What if they go back in the middle of the night?!"

I stared at my reflection in the dark liquid. "That's exactly what I want them to do. What they did earlier was just an 'attempt.' The cops would only give them a slap on the wrist."

"I need them to take the bait. I want undeniable evidence. I'm going to put them behind bars for the rest of their lives."

Tracy sucked in a sharp breath.

It didn't even take thirty minutes.

My phone on the coffee table suddenly lit up, accompanied by a blaring red alert tone.

[WARNING: Illegal entry detected at your residence!]

It wasn't the smart peephole camera. It was the high-def, hidden cam I'd tucked inside the living room AC vent. I immediately swiped the screen and pulled up the live feed.

On the monitor, my front door swung wide. Bryan and his family poured into my apartment like a pack of starving hyenas.

With me out of the way, they tore off every last shred of their disguise, exposing their greedy, hideous selves.

"The little bitch really did run!" Nora spat, immediately beginning to ransack the living room.

"Mom, look at this!"

Layla excitedly yanked open my jewelry box. She shoved my $50,000 Cartier watch and a diamond necklace straight into her pockets. Not to be outdone, Nora charged into my walk-in closet, sweeping limited-edition Hermès bags off the shelves.

"Find her safe! She has to have the property deed and bank tokens hidden somewhere!"

Bryan, his eyes bloodshot, tore through my desk drawers like a maniac, scattering documents across the floor.

Watching this swarm of parasites on my screen, I hit the record button.

Steal it all. Trash the place. The more you take, the heavier the sentence.

A few days later.

The immediate crisis had passed, and the city was back to its usual rhythm. I left Tracy's place and headed to the office. Everything seemed to have calmed. After looting my condo, Bryan's family had vanished into thin air.

That evening, in the underground parking garage.

I was clicking toward my car in my heels when a dark figure lunged from behind a concrete pillar, launching straight at me.

"Zoey!"

I flinched violently, my thumb a hair's breadth away from triggering my pepper spray.

It was Bryan.

He looked haggard—unshaven, sunken eyes, clothes wrinkled and stained.

"Zoey! Please don't walk away!"

He dropped to his knees right in front of me, wrapping his arms around my legs in a death grip as his tears fell.

"I was wrong! I was so wrong! These last few days without you have been absolute hell!"

He sobbed hysterically, those usually affectionate eyes now brimming with what looked like profound remorse. Seeing him debase himself in the dirt, my heart skipped a beat.

If it had been the old me... the Zoey who was utterly blinded by love... she would have softened. She would have swallowed his bullshit and welcomed him back with open arms.

But just as my lips parted to speak...

The image of my battered, pregnant, blood-soaked self from the mirror exploded in my mind.

I took a deep breath, forcing down the disgust, and plastered on an expression of torn, tormented hesitation.

"Bryan... I just don't know if I can trust you anymore," I said, letting my voice tremble.

The instant he sensed me wavering, a flash of concealed ecstasy crossed his eyes. But he hid it perfectly.

"Just give me one chance! One last chance! Can we just sit down and talk?" he begged.

"Fine," I said, lowering my eyes. "Meet me at the cafe on Fifth after work."

7:00 PM. The cafe on Fifth Avenue.

I sat in a window booth, watching Bryan hurry inside. He had showered and changed into the white button-down I always liked on him. The second he slid into the booth, I pushed a printed invoice across the table.

"This is an itemized list of everything your family stole from my apartment."

I stared dead at him, my tone flat. "The total value exceeds $150,000. Combined with the hidden security footage, it's more than enough to put your entire family in prison for a decade."

The mask of the devoted lover froze on Bryan's face.

"Zoey, just listen—"

"We're done, Bryan," I cut him off. "This is non-negotiable. Return every single item untouched and get out of my life forever. Otherwise, I walk into the precinct with this evidence tomorrow morning."

I was liquidating him.

Bryan stared at me, unblinking. We sat in a deadlock for a full minute. Then, all at once, he deflated, slumping back into his seat.

"Fine."

His voice was horrifyingly raspy. "I agree. I'll get it all back to you. All of this... I really did you wrong." He looked into my eyes, brimming with sorrow. "Since it's really over, Zoey..."

He picked up his coffee cup and held it out toward me. "Let's have a toast to our year together. One last clink, and then we're even."

Looking at his defeated face, the knot in my nerves finally loosened just a fraction. It made sense. Faced with prison, what choice did he have but to fold?

I picked up my latte and tapped my cup against his.

"We're even."

I tipped my head back and took a generous swallow of the warm coffee.

It's over. This nightmare is finally over.

But a minute later, my vision started to double. The rim of the cup split into two overlapping images.

What's happening?

I tried to stand, but my legs refused to obey.

The coffee cup slipped from my hand and shattered on the table.

"You..." I tried to speak, but only a raspy wheeze escaped. A suffocating darkness hit me like a tidal wave, swallowing me whole.

When my consciousness finally clawed its way back, the first thing I smelled was the familiar scent of my own laundry detergent. Beneath me was my own high-end mattress.

Am I... home?

I tried to snap my eyes open, but my eyelids felt like lead.

I was drugged. The coffee.

Just then, the skin-crawling sound of footsteps approached the bed.

"Bryan, what did I tell you? There's no use reasoning with an arrogant little bitch like her."

It was Nora's voice.

A second later, a pair of ice-cold hands slowly stroked my paralyzed cheek.

"Welcome home, my sweetheart."