CHAPTER 151

**WINTER**

“Cindy,” he seethed, his voice dangerously low.

She still didn’t take the hint. Or maybe she really was just that fucking stupid.

Cindy’s smirk only deepened as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger, completely unfazed. 

“Yes babe?” she drawled, all fake innocence. 

Zion moved so fast that she actually flinched. He stepped in close, towering over her, his entire body thrumming with barely contained rage. His jaw was clenched so tight it looked like he might shatter his own teeth, his hands flexing at his sides as if it took everything in him not to do something he’d regret.

“Keep talking,” he growled, his voice razor-sharp, dangerously low. 

“I fucking dare you.”

Cindy’s smirk faltered, just a little.

Her lips parted, eyes flashing with disbelief as she steadied herself, brushing imaginary dust off her designer top like he’d somehow tainted her.

“I was just trying to help… babe…” she pouted.

Zion didn’t move. Didn’t blink. 

Cindy let out a mocking laugh, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she eyed Winter with pure disdain.

“Come on, Zion,” she drawled, her tone dripping with cruel amusement. 

“Why are you wasting your time? She was always just a pathetic little toy, wasn’t she? You broke her once—I bet it wouldn’t take much to do it again.”

Her eyes flickered to me. 

“But really Z, why are you even bothering? Getting your hands dirty over trash like her? She should just crawl back to whatever filthy little trailer she came from.”

She barely had time to finish before Zion moved.

In a blink, Zion moved. One second, Cindy was smirking—taunting—and the next, his hand was around her throat.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my stomach knotting at the sudden, violent shift in the air. 

Cindy’s smirk vanished, her breath hitching as her manicured nails clawed at his wrist in a frantic, useless attempt to pry him off.

“Z-Zion, what are—” Her voice broke into a strangled gasp.

Zion’s lips curled into something cruel, 

"You really think you matter, Cindy?" He let out a dark, humourless chuckle. 

"You run your mouth like you're untouchable, but let me make something clear—you’re nothing. Just a desperate little parasite, clinging to whatever power you think you have."

Her eyes widened, nails digging into his wrist as she struggled, but he didn’t let go.

"You talk about Winter like she’s beneath you?" His fingers flexed slightly, making her gasp. 

"Take a good fucking look in the mirror. You’re a joke, Cindy. A cheap, forgettable one."

His voice dropped even lower, dangerous. 

“If I ever hear you talk about Winter like that again,” Zion said, his voice smooth but razor-sharp, 

“you’ll learn firsthand just how fucking ruthless I can be. And trust me, Cindy—you won’t like it.”

“Now,” he continued, his tone almost casual, but laced with a lethal edge, 

“unless you’re begging to find out what happens when I really lose my patience, I suggest you get the fuck out of my sight.”

Cindy let out a breathy laugh, still clinging to her arrogance. 

“Calm down, babe… I was just—”

"Don’t. Fucking. Call me that,” he bit out, his voice like a blade. 

“I’m not your babe. I’m not your anything.”

His lip curled in disgust as he leaned in just enough to make her squirm. 

“I fucked you twice, Cindy. And you know what? It wasn’t even that good.” His voice dripped with venom, each word slicing through her like a knife. 

“So do yourself a favour—get the fuck out of my face before I make you.”

Zion’s fingers uncurled from around her throat, shoving her back with just enough force to make her stumble. 

Cindy let out a sharp gasp, her hand flying to her neck as she reeled, her confidence finally cracking.

She blinked up at him, lips parted in shock as if she couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. But Zion didn’t so much as flinch. His glare was cold, merciless.

“Go,” he ordered, his voice deadly quiet.

I crossed my arms, tilting my head as I watched Cindy clutch her throat like she’d just survived a near-death experience.

“Well, that was dramatic,” I mused, my voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Are we done with the whole soap opera villain act, or should I grab some popcorn for the next scene? Oh, don’t send Cindy away on my account,” I drawled my voice light, mocking. 

"After all, she might not let you fuck her later.”

Zion’s head snapped toward me, his eyes blazing with fury—only for it to flicker into something softer. 

I let out a dry laugh, folding my arms. 

“Wow. You two—what an outstanding performance. Should I applaud?” I arched a brow, my voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Because if this is some grand act, I hate to break it to you, but I’m not buying a single second of it,” I said coldly. 

“Do your worst. Both of you. Tear me down, humiliate me, rip me apart. I don’t care anymore.” My voice didn’t waver, not this time. 

“You want me broken? Guess what? You already did that. There’s nothing left to destroy.”

I turned to Zion, every ounce of anger, betrayal, and disgust I’d been swallowing down finally spilling over.

“And you,” I breathed, my voice shaking with the weight of it all. 

“I never hated anyone the way I hate you, Zion.” 

His eyes widened slightly, something flickering in them—something almost like pain—but I didn’t stop. 

“I hate you for making me believe you were once my best friend. I hate you for every time I let my guard down, only for you to prove me so fucking wrong.” My chest rose and fell sharply as I sucked in a breath, my fingers curling into fists. 

“And most of all, I hate you for the fact that, even after everything, you still dare to stand here and act like you deserve even a second of my time.”

I turned away before I could see his reaction before I could let the storm in his eyes do anything to me. I was done.

I turned on my heel and walked away, pushing through the suffocating weight of the moment, desperate to get away, to breathe, to be anywhere but here.

The farther I got, the harder my pulse pounded in my ears. The night air was cool, but I felt like I was burning like the fury and humiliation tangled in my chest would suffocate me if I didn’t find somewhere quiet to let it out.

I needed to scream. I needed to break something. I needed to erase Zion Royal from my life.

“Snowflake!”

Oh, God.

I ignored him, my pace quickening, but his voice came again, closer this time, laced with something raw.

“Snowflake, fucking stop.”

Before I could react, a strong hand clamped around my arm, yanking me to a stop. I gasped as I was spun around, forced to face him.

Zion stood a few steps up, breathing heavily, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. His hands curled into fists like he was trying to hold himself together.

Zion stood a few steps closer, his chest rising and falling with heavy, uneven breaths. His jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it might snap, his hands curled into fists at his sides—like he was using every ounce of restraint to keep himself together.

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he whispered, his voice raw.

Wrong?

Yeah, right.

He could shake his head all he wanted, could whisper whatever desperate excuse he had lined up—but I wasn’t falling for it. 

Not now. Not ever.

“Snowflake, don’t go,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Please. I—” He sucked in a breath, looking lost, broken. 

“We need to talk.”

I ripped my arm from his grasp so fast that I felt the ghost of his fingers still wrapped around me. 

“What more could you possibly have to say to me, Zion?” My words were cold, clipped. 

“Wasn’t what you said back in my bedroom enough?”

I shook my head, exhaling sharply. “Just go. Go back to Cindy.”

My own voice felt distant and detached, but the bitterness in it was real. Too real.

“Plan more ways to humiliate me. I don’t care.”

I turned, ready to put as much distance between us as possible. But before I could take a step, his hand shot out again, closing around my arm.

I sighed, my shoulders sagging. We were going in circles.

“Zion, just stop. What more do you want from me?” My voice barely rose above a whisper, raw and unsteady, but he heard it. His grip on my elbow was firm—not rough, not cruel, but enough to keep me there. Enough to make my pulse stutter.

“I’m sorry.”

The words were quiet, almost broken, but they slammed into me like a wrecking ball. My head snapped up, my breath hitching as I met his gaze.

He was looking at me—really looking at me—his expression open in a way I’d never seen before. 

Vulnerable. Unguarded.

No. No.

This was an act. It had to be.

This had to be some plan.

Frantic, my eyes darted around, searching, waiting—because there had to be cameras, right? There had to be someone watching, waiting to laugh at whatever new humiliation Zion had planned for me.

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh, yanking at my arm. 

“Where are they, huh?” I demanded, my voice shaking with anger. 

“Where are the cameras this time? Hiding in the bushes? Waiting to catch my reaction so you and your friends can get a good laugh later?”

His face twisted, like the words physically hurt him. 

“Snowflake—”

I wrenched my arm free and stumbled back, my shoe barely holding on. 

“Don’t,” I spat. 

“I swear to God, Zion if this is some new game—”

His arms were on me before I could move, hands gripping my waist, pulling me against him. I struggled, pushing against his chest, but he wouldn’t let go.

“No games,” he rasped. 

“No cameras. Just me. Just us.”

I let out a broken laugh, still fighting against his hold. 

“Us? There is no us.”

His grip tightened for a second like he was afraid I’d slip right through his fingers, but then, with a heavy breath, he eased his hold—just enough to let me push free. I staggered back, heart hammering, my shoe completely giving out beneath me.

“Don’t.” My voice shook with rage, and something far more dangerous curled inside me. 

“Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me.”

“Snowflake—”

“Stop saying that name!” I hissed, my chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

“I am really sorry.”

He was looking at me—really looking at me—his expression open in a way I’d never seen before. 

Zion Royal didn’t get to look at me like that. Not after everything. 

My lips curled into something bitter, something hollow.

“I should have known,” I said, my voice dripping with disdain. 

“Now you’re sorry?” I scoffed, my voice sharp enough to cut. 

“You and I both know you don’t mean it. Why would you apologize to a liar like me?”

Zion’s throat bobbed, his entire body tense, like he was holding himself back from something. But then, in one swift move, his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. My breath hitched as his warmth surrounded me, his grip firm, desperate.

“I am… I’m so sorry, Snowflake,” he murmured, his voice rough, wrecked. His forehead dropped to mine, his fingers digging into my back as if letting go wasn’t an option. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

His breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling against mine, but I refused to give in. Refused to believe it.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head even as my traitorous body reacted to his closeness. 

“You don’t get to do this.”

I shoved at his chest, pushing him away with all the strength I had left. 

“No” I whispered, my voice shaking with fury.

Zion took a step forward, his hands reaching for me, desperation flickering across his face. 

“Snowflake, please… I swear, I’m sorry.” His voice was rough, almost broken. 

“I need you to believe me—I need you to understand.”

“Stop it!” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my entire body trembling. 

"Nothing you say will ever change what you are. Nothing will stop you from being the bastard you’ve always been," I spat, my voice shaking with rage. 

"You had the whole damn college doing your bidding, humiliating me, tearing me down—dragging my name through the dirt for your own sick amusement. And now you stand here, apologizing in private? What, too much of a coward to do it in front of the same crowd that watched you destroy me?"

I turned on my heel, ready to bolt, but the strap of my shoe slipped free. My ankle twisted beneath me, a sharp sting shooting up my leg, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t look back.

I didn’t go back for the shoe.

I just ran.

Away from Zion Royal. Away from whatever twisted game he was playing. Away before I made the mistake of believing him again.