CHAPTER 131
**ZION**
As I step out of my bedroom, I nearly crash into Winter.
She freezes, her body going rigid, and for a fleeting second, her eyes meet mine—cold, unreadable—before she quickly looks away.
"Watch where you’re going, Zion," she mutters, her voice sharp and detached, like the very sight of me is an inconvenience.
I arch a brow, leaning lazily against the doorframe. "Me? And here I thought you ran into me just for an excuse to touch me."
I try to chuckle, throwing in a smirk for good measure, but she doesn’t take the bait. Doesn’t even spare me a glance.
She moves past me without so much as a glance, her silence louder than any insult she could throw my way. I should probably say something—maybe even apologize—but the words lodge in my throat. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s what I wanted.
And for some reason, that pisses me off more than it should.
*I felt sorry for you, that’s all. I pitied you, and I stayed. If I hadn’t passed out, I would’ve left.*
The words echoed in my head, hollow and sharp, cutting deeper than I expected. I didn’t even know why I said it—why I needed to push her away like that. Maybe because being close to Snowflake was messing with my head, making me forget who she was supposed to be.
I open my mouth, ready to fire back with some cocky retort, something to regain the upper hand—but nothing comes out.
For the first time, I don’t have a comeback.
I just stand there, watching her walk away, each step taking her farther from me. And for some fucking reason, it feels wrong.
Annoyance coils in my gut. I should be glad. I should want her to keep her distance. But all I can think about is how she didn’t even look back.
My jaw tightens. I need to get my head straight. She’s not supposed to matter. She’s not supposed to get under my skin.
I had to remind myself. She wasn’t mine. She was my enemy.
I follow her downstairs, my eyes betraying me as they linger on the curve of her ass.
*Focus, Zion. Fucking focus.*
Dread and anticipation coil in my stomach, a toxic mix I can’t shake. God only knows how I managed to keep my hands to myself last night—how I survived the slow, torturous burn of having her so damn close. Her scent had wrapped around me, her warmth sinking into my skin, making it damn near impossible to sleep. Every breath I took was laced with her, every shift of her body a fresh kind of torment.
I’d barely drifted off when Mom started pounding on the door, her voice cutting through the haze of exhaustion. The sheer panic that shot through me at the thought of her walking in was enough to kill whatever was left of my morning wood.
Well, almost.
If Mom had been even slightly less mindful of Winter’s privacy—less focused on giving her space after everything that went down Wednesday night—she would’ve thrown open that door without hesitation. And what would she have found? Winter curled up against me, my arms still wrapped around her like I had any fucking right to hold her that way.
And worse? She might've caught sight of the very real evidence of just how much having Winter that close affected me. Yeah, that would’ve been a fun conversation over breakfast. Nothing like explaining to my mother why I woke up hard with my stepsister in my bed.
Just the thought makes my stomach twist. If it had been Winter’s dad instead of Mom, walking in on us?
Fuck. I’d be dead. No question. The look on his face, the rage that would’ve boiled over—I wouldn't stand a chance.
Even now, with her walking ahead of me, that damn body of hers tempting me like some cruel joke, I can already feel myself getting hard again. The memory of waking up with her in my arms lingers like a phantom touch, and I have to force my mind onto something else—anything else—before I humiliate myself at the fucking breakfast table.
As I step into the room, Mom greets me with a warm smile, her eyes soft and welcoming.
But it's William's gaze that gets my guilt juices flowing. I mean, what's up with that? I'm innocent... relatively speaking.
Okay, fine, so maybe I did have my cock pressed against his daughter while she slept, and my body wrapped around hers like a human burrito. And maybe, just maybe, I was thinking about all the dirty things I wanted to do to her. But hey, thoughts aren't actions, right? That's like the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card... or so I keep telling myself.
As I stand there, trying to look as non-guilty as possible (which is hard when you're a guy who's been caught red-handed... or rather red-faced), I think to myself: I didn't do anything wrong... this time." It's all about semantics, people! The fact that I restrained myself from acting on my desires should count for something.
It's not like I'm some kind of saint or anything (although, let's be real, resisting the temptation of a beautiful sleeping woman is sainthood material).
So yeah, whatever look William's giving me? Unwarranted. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself as I try to avoid eye contact and slowly back away from the situation...
“Are you going to move, or what?” Winter snaps behind me, her voice laced with venom, pulling me out of my spiralling thoughts. My heart races as I turn to face her, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends a jolt of something I can’t quite name through me. I feel the weight of her gaze, the tension between us thickening.
I force myself to look past it, to focus. Get this revenge over and done with. That’s the only thing that matters now.
Once I’ve finished with my revenge—once I’ve wrecked her, torn her apart in the way she deserves—I’ll walk away. I’ll be free of all this. Free of her. And I can get back to my life. This mess will be over, and I’ll never have to think about Winter again.
“I hope you were nice when Winter came to wake you up,” Mom’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“I’m always nice, Mom,” I mutter, reaching for the coffee.
Winter scoffs beside me, leaning in just enough for only me to hear. “Yeah, right. Do you even know how to spell the word?” she whisper-yells, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Whatever..."
.....
As I shove a forkful of fluffy pancakes into my mouth, the sweet aroma and taste are overpowered by the turmoil brewing in my mind. My jaws work mechanically, chewing absently as my thoughts spiral out of control, consumed by the chaos that has been building up inside me.
The thought of finding Ethan consumes me, a relentless echo—making him pay for what he did to Winter.
But that’s just the beginning. I’ll make sure to settle the score with Winter once and for all. The details of my revenge plan swirl in my mind, each piece clicking into place, the inevitable outcome drawing nearer.
Winter’s getting too damn close, slipping pasdefenceses I never intended to lower, and I can’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever.
She has no idea what I set in motion while she slept, no clue that the ground beneath her feet is already beginning to crack. But she will—soon enough.
The clock is ticking, each second dragging her closer to the inevitable. She’s blissfully unaware, walking straight into the storm I’ve carefully crafted. But soon… very soon… she’ll see the truth. And by then, it’ll be far too late.
I force myself to swallow, ignoring the knot in my stomach as I glance toward Winter, careful not to let my eyes linger.
Soon, that day will come—when I can leave it all behind and move on, leaving Winter and everything she's done behind me—is closer than I want to admit.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
