CHAPTER 234

**ZION**

“Okay, now you guys have seen what I didn’t want you to see. Can you please let us do our job?”

He barely finished when a sharp scream shattered the stillness.

I snapped my head toward the doorway.

She stood there—hand clamped over her mouth, eyes wide and glassy, locked on the corpse tied to the chair. Her breath hitched, and even from here, I could see the tremor in her shoulders.

Fuck.

Right behind her, Damien stepped forward, his gaze following hers.

The moment his eyes landed on Ethan’s blood-caked body, the sound he made was somewhere between a choke and a gag.

His face went grey, his lips parting as if to speak—

“Who the f—”

The rest of it cut off in a wet retch.

He doubled over, hands on his knees, vomiting hard onto the floor.

The stench of bile instantly mixed with the heavy rot in the air, making the whole room even harder to breathe in.
Winter didn’t even flinch at the sound.

She couldn’t look away.

Her stare was locked, like she was trapped in some silent nightmare and didn’t know how to wake up.

Martin let out a sharp, exasperated laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.

“For fuck’s sake—another one. What is this? A goddamn reunion at a crime scene?”

Muiz swore, dragging a hand down his face.

“No more likea, bring-your-friends-to-a-crime-scene day?”
His voice dripped with sarcasm, but the tightness in his jaw said he wasn’t amused.

I barely heard them.

My focus was all Winter.

The colour had drained from her face, her eyes huge and wet, and for a split second, she looked so small—too small for this scene, too fragile for the reality we’d just stumbled into.

“Snowflake,” I said, moving slowly towards her, my voice rough, desperate to get her out before the image burned into her head.

Her gaze tore from Ethan to me, and something in my chest twisted.

Fear.

Shock.

It was all there in her eyes—and now I had to be the one to drag her away from it.

Because if she kept looking at him, at that rotting, bloodstained body, the part of her that still believed in safety, in normalcy, would die right here with him.

Fuck.

I closed the distance in three strides, my hand locking gently but firmly around Winter’s arm. She didn’t flinch, didn’t move—her skin was ice, her body wound tight like it might shatter if I pushed too hard.

“Snowflake—”

Behind her, Damien let out another strangled gag.
He slapped a hand to the wall, his face draining white before he lurched toward the door.

“Nope—fuck this,” he choked, stumbling out into the open air, still coughing like the smell was stuck in his lungs.

My eyes dragged back to Winter. Her lips trembled, eyes fixed on the chair.

“Ethan?” she whispered, voice cracking like glass, as if saying it made it undeniable.

Martin swore, loud and sharp, raking a hand through his hair.

“Alright—enough. Out. All of you. Now. I’m done with you screwing up my crime scene. Move.”

His tone was all grit and fed-up authority, leaving no room for argument.

The boys didn’t hesitate—they filed out without a word, tension hanging thick in the air.

I kept my grip on Winter, steering her toward the door.

The stench of rot clung to us, worming into my throat with every breath.

Outside, the air hit colder, sharper, but it didn’t stop her from slowing to a halt on the lawn.

Her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold the pieces. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, lost somewhere far from here.

"Ethan is dead? He was murdered?”

Murdered.

How could this be fucking happening?

And why?

What had he possibly done that had driven someone to kill him?

“Who… why…”

Her voice broke as tears spilt down her cheeks, confusion tangled with grief.

“Why would someone do that to him?”

I had nothing to give her.

No comfort, no answer.

Only the ugly truth clawing in my chest—

I scanned the shadows around the house, senses taut. Every instinct screamed at me that the real threat wasn’t done yet.
Ro was pacing by the curb, jaw tight, like he needed to keep moving or he’d snap.

Clark stood with his arms folded, eyes fixed on the ground, not saying a damn thing.

Harry just kept rubbing the back of his neck, his face pale like he’d swallowed glass.

“Jesus Christ,” Ro muttered, glancing toward the house but quickly looking away.

“That’s not something you unsee.”

“Could’ve given us a warning,” Clark said flatly, though his voice didn’t have its usual bite.

“We walk in thinking it’s gonna be some heated argument and—” He cut himself off, shaking his head.

“Ethan. Dead. Tied to a chair,” Harry said, voice raw.

“What the actual fuck are we even dealing with?”

I didn’t answer.

My hand was still on Winter’s waist, feeling the tremor that wouldn’t stop running through her. Her eyes weren’t on them, weren’t on me—she was staring somewhere far past us, into a place only she could see.

“Snowflake,” I said low, but she didn’t respond.

The boys fell silent, all their restless movements slowing until it was just the distant hum of traffic, the sharp crackle of police radios, and Winter’s unsteady breaths as officers moved methodically around the house, calling out instructions and examining the scene.

Whatever this was… it wasn’t over.

Not even close.

Damien was a few feet away, hunched over with his hands braced on his knees, spitting into the grass like he was trying to purge the taste of what he’d just seen.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened, his skin ghost-pale, eyes wide and glassy. When his gaze found mine, he gave a single, hard shake of his head, his voice coming out raw and uneven.

“What the fuck is going on with you guys? First that cat in the goddamn box, now this? A corpse tied to a chair? What the hell are you all mixed up in—because this isn’t normal, man. This is—” He broke off, dragging a shaky breath like he couldn’t even finish the thought.

I stepped closer, pressing Winter slightly behind me, my jaw tight.

“None of your fucking business, Damien. But seriously—what the hell were you doing here? Were you following us?”

Suspicion coiled around me, thick and hard. I could feel it in the way my hands clenched at Winter’s jacket, in the way my eyes narrowed, studying him like I was trying to read every lie he might be hiding.

Damien’s eyes snapped toward me, burning with irritation. His chest heaved, but there was no panic—only raw anger.

“Following you? Yeah, so what?"

Damien threw up his hands, chest heaving, eyes flashing with anger.

“I wasn’t spying, I wasn’t following anyone for some… sick reason. I didn’t expect to walk into this… this nightmare!”
His voice cracked on the last word, eyes darting toward the house like he could still see it from here.

“So stop looking at me like I had something to do with what’s in there! I swear, Royal—I didn’t! I had no idea I’d see… that!”
He jerked a hand toward the house, chest heaving, breathing ragged, anger and disbelief tangled tight in every line of his face.

“I was just trying to make sure she wasn’t ditching me again… that she actually did the fucking assignment. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing else!”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his voice low but sharp, every word radiating frustration and barely contained anger.

I tightened my grip on Winter, feeling her tremble against me.

Her hands clutched at my jacket, and I could hear her shallow breaths, as I narrowed my eyes, jaw tight, the suspicion crawling up my spine like ice.

“You expect me to just believe that bullshit?” I hissed, fists clenching at my sides.

“You were there when Harry said they found Ethan… so, yeah, pretty obvious we weren’t going home. I even asked for Ethan’s location, Damien—so you knew exactly where we were headed. And yet somehow, genius, you still decide to follow us? Really?"

Winter pressed closer, her forehead brushing against my chest, and I felt the slight shake in her body. My jaw clenched tighter.

“Answer me, why did you follow us” I hissed, my voice low but deadly.

Damien’s jaw tightened, his voice low and dangerous.

“What the fuck are you accusing me of, Royal? Like I planned to show up to this nightmare? I was just making sure the assignment actually got done, that’s it! And now you’re acting like I had some hidden agenda. Look at me—do I look like I had any clue what the hell was going on in there? I just walked right into it… straight into hell!”

His eyes flicked to the house, then back to me, searing with frustration.

“So spare me your suspicion. I didn’t come here to lurk or spy—I followed because you said the work had to be done at your place. I didn’t expect to stumble into whatever the hell just happened. And now you’re acting like I’m some kind of suspect?”

I opened my mouth, ready to rip into him, but Winter’s hand pressed against my arm, stopping me.

“Don’t…” she whispered, her voice trembling, cracking as she pressed against my chest.

“Ethan… he’s gone… murdered! I can’t… I won’t listen to you two arguing right now!” Her hands shook as she pressed them to her temples, teeth clenched, eyes blazing with fury and grief.

“Do you even hear me? He’s dead, and here you are bickering like children!”

I opened my mouth, ready to argue, ready to say something that would… I didn’t even know what.

But Damien stepped forward first, and for a moment I froze, caught off guard. His usual edge was gone, replaced with something softer, almost tentative, like he didn’t want to make it worse.

“Winter… I… I don’t have a fucking clue exactly what’s going on here, but I can see you’re shaken. I just thought maybe you were avoiding the assignment, but it’s clear… you’re not in any state to deal with it. I get it. I’ll take care of it. I’ll finish it myself and send you the draft when it’s done.”
Without waiting for an answer, Damien stumbled toward his car, climbed in, and peeled out, leaving us with the cold, heavy silence.

I stayed close to Winter, her small frame trembling against me as she stared back at the house.

Police lights flickered against the walls, officers moving methodically, collecting evidence, but all I could hear was the silence of disbelief in her voice.

“Why… why would someone kill him like that… so brutally?” she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her hands clutched at my jacket, shaking.

I didn’t have an answer. And the real bastard? He was still out there.

Somewhere.

Watching.

Waiting.

And then the thought hit me, sharp and cold—I had a sinking fucking feeling that Winter’s stalker and Ethan’s murderer were the same. My stomach twisted as my eyes darted between her trembling figure and the distant house, where police were moving through the chaos.

My stomach turned, and suddenly everything felt ten times heavier.