CHAPTER 130
**WINTER**
I approach the bathroom, my heart pounding against my ribs. We almost got caught. Yet, despite everything, the only thing I can focus on is that he didn’t abandon me last night. He stayed. He stayed all night.
I barely get the door open before a strong arm shoots out, yanking me inside.
“What the—” The breath rushes from my lungs as my back collides with the cool tile wall. Zion looms over me, his forehead nearly pressing against mine, his dark eyes locked onto me with an unreadable intensity.
“I take it she bought your lies... since you’re so damn good at it,” he murmurs, his jaw clenching.
My stomach twists, frustration bubbling up inside me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you know…” His voice drips with sarcasm, but something else flickers beneath it—something raw, something fleeting. “You’re such a fucking good liar and all.”
Something in me snaps. “You keep saying that, but you never actually tell me what I lied about!” My voice rises, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “You just keep throwing it in my face over and over like some sick game, but you never tell me what I did! How the hell am I supposed to fix something when I don’t even know what the fuck is broken?”
His fingers flex around my arm—too tight, too rough. A sharp sting flares through my bruised skin, and I suck in a breath, wincing.
Zion stiffens. The moment his gaze flickers to the fading bruises Ethan left behind, his grip loosens like he’s just realized what he’s done.
“Shit… I’m sorry,” he mutters, voice gruff, reluctant.
“I didn’t mean—”
I yank my arm free, rubbing the sore spot as my heart hammers against my ribs. The sting lingers, but it’s nothing compared to the frustration boiling inside me.
“Didn’t you?” I lift my chin, forcing my expression into something unreadable, even as my chest tightens. My lips press into a thin line before I let out a humourless chuckle, tilting my head.
“Maybe this is just another one of your lessons, huh? Another way to punish me for being a liar—by hurting me instead.” My smirk is sharp, but my voice betrays me, shaking slightly as I meet his gaze.
He pulls me in, his body close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. His lips hover just above mine, his breath warm and unsteady as he exhales a low, almost tortured sound.
“Don’t... You’ll know when I mean to hurt you,” he murmurs, his voice rough, but there’s no malice in it.
“When I want to teach you a lesson, you’ll know. I don’t go after girls who aren’t well. When you recover, whatever this is... it will end.”
His words hang in the air, but there’s a softness to his face now, no harshness, no anger—just something deeper, something vulnerable.
“Zion,” I whisper, my fingers curling into the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, anchoring myself to him.
“What?” His voice is softer now, and his gaze lowers to my lips, almost as if he’s waiting for something.
“Did you hear what your mum said?” I ask, my words a little shaky.
“They want us to go have breakfast with them…”
He exhales sharply, taking a step back...and raking a hand through his messy hair.
“Fuck… family breakfast. Just what I need first thing in the morning.”
I shift on my feet, watching the way his jaw tics with irritation. “She was going to your room to wake you up, but I told her I’d come and get you.”
His lips curve into something that isn’t quite a smirk but isn’t exactly friendly either.
“Well, you did come and get me… just not from my room, huh?”
His fingers graze over the bruises on my arm, his touch barely there, but the way his eyes lock onto them makes my breath hitch.
His jaw tightens, his expression unreadable, and for a second, I think I see something like confusion flicker across his face. But then, just as quickly, he pulls his hand back like I’ve burned him, stuffing it into his pocket as if he can erase the moment.
I swallow hard, but before I can respond, he steps away, putting space between us. The warmth he brought with him disappears in an instant, replaced by an unsettling chill.
“Let’s just get this fucking breakfast over with,” he mutters, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off something unwanted.
“I just hope I don’t puke all over family bonding time.”
“Zion…” I try again, reaching for him, but he jerks his arm away like my touch might burn him.
His expression tightens, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before they turn cold.
“Whatever,” he mutters, voice flat, before heading for the door without a backward glance.
A sinking feeling settles deep in my stomach. I don’t know if I should be angry or hurt.
**ZION**
“Z—wait.” Her voice is soft, almost desperate, as she rushes after me.
I stop, turning to look at her, but the moment she opens her mouth, I already know whatever she’s about to say is going to fuck with my head. And I can’t let that happen.
“Don’t,” I snap, cutting her off before she can even get the first word out.
Her lips part, eyes flickering with something raw, something wounded, and for a split second, I feel it. That stupid, nagging pull in my chest. But I shove it down, smothering it with something colder, something crueller.
“Let’s just forget last night ever happened,” I say, my voice sharp and unforgiving.
“I felt sorry for you, that’s all. I pitied you, and I stayed. If I hadn’t passed out, I would’ve left.” I let the words sink in, let the weight of them press against her, hoping—praying—she believes them.
“So don’t go reading into it, Snowflake. Don’t make this into something it’s not.”
She flinches like I just struck her, her eyes going glassy for a second before she blinks hard, masking the pain.
I shove past her without another word, stalking toward my bedroom and slamming the door shut behind me. My pulse pounds in my ears, and my jaw is locked so tight it aches.
Fuck.
Last night was the first time in a long time that I slept—the first time I stayed in bed with a woman for more than just sex. And it wasn’t just anyone.
It was her.
The girl I'm supposed to hate.
I drag a hand down my face, my fingers lingering over the faint stubble on my jaw before I make my way into the bathroom. The second I flick on the light, my gaze catches my reflection in the mirror.
I look… exhausted. Like someone who’s barely keeping his shit together.
Winter is getting to me. Crawling under my skin, wrapping around my fucking ribs, making me feel things I have no business feeling. I need to end this before it spirals into something I can’t control. I have to keep reminding myself what she did—who she is.
Gripping the edge of the sink, I exhale sharply, but the moment I catch sight of my knuckles, whatever fragile hold I had on my emotions snaps.
They’re still swollen, bruised, and raw, only slightly faded from the beating I gave that piece of shit. The thought of him sends fresh rage surging through me, hot and blinding. I hope he’s suffering, that his face is barely recognizable, that every breath he takes fucking hurts.
And if it doesn’t?
I curl my fingers into a fist, my bruised knuckles throbbing with the movement.
Then I’ll make sure it does.
I spent all fucking day yesterday after I left the warehouse hunting for him, like a man possessed. But it was like the earth swallowed him whole. No traces, no leads—nothing.
I just hope William is handling it, making sure the Wilde family pays for what they did. And if they’re not?
I crack my neck, my fingers flexing at my sides.
Then I’ll make sure they do too.
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