CHAPTER 245

**ZION**

I paused at the edge of the bed, watching her sleep. Winter, finally at peace, completely passed out after the chaos of the day. 

Her chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths, hair splayed across the pillow like a halo. My chest tightened at the sight, every instinct screaming to hold her, to shield her from everything this cruel world could throw at her.

I crouched slightly, letting my fingers brush gently over her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw with a reverence I hadn’t meant to admit even to myself. 

“I love you,” I whispered, voice rough, hoarse from tension and sleepless hours, letting the words fall softly into the quiet room. 

My thumb brushed away a stray lock of hair from her face, lingering too long, as if memorising the curve of her lips, the softness of her skin.

Then, carefully, I tugged the blanket up over her, tucking it around her shoulders, making sure she was warm, safe, untouchable to the world outside.

The day’s anger and frustration pressed down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake, the helplessness from earlier still coiling in my chest like a living thing. 

I let out a rough, jagged exhale, the kind that vibrated with equal parts exhaustion and rage.

I stood slowly, every muscle still tense, every nerve wound tight. Before I turned to leave, I leaned down once more, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her temple, whispering again, 

“I love you, so fucking much ” letting her feel my presence, my promise, even if she was too asleep to notice.

With a final glance at her peaceful form, so small and fragile, my chest ached. 

My fingers curled into a tight fist at my side, knuckles white, a low, dangerous growl simmering in my throat, the rage at the world that had hurt her still burning hot.

For now, all I could do was drag myself toward the kitchen, let the quiet wrap around me like a fragile shield, and brace for whatever hell awaited… maybe grab a fucking drink before I completely lost it.

....

I stepped into the kitchen, shoulders tight, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a physical force. My fingers went to the fridge, yanking it open and snagging a cold beer. 

The metal felt slick and heavy in my hand. I twisted the cap off, the sharp hiss of carbonation cutting through the silence, and I didn’t hesitate—tilted the bottle back and drained it in one long swallow.

The liquid burned as it went down, sharp and numbing, but it did nothing to wash away the images replaying in my mind. Winter’s face. 

Her eyes—glimmering, terrified, on the verge of tears.

Ethan… dead.

I slammed the empty bottle onto the counter with a harsh clatter, the noise echoing through the kitchen, and it did nothing to quiet the storm in my chest. 

My jaw tightened as I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to scrub away the memory of the last time I’d seen him—me throwing punch after punch, letting every ounce of fury loose. 

Every strike had been for Winter, for the fear in Ethan’s eyes, the twisted satisfaction of making him feel what he’d put her through.

First in the woods, then in that abandoned warehouse. I could still feel the sting of knuckles on flesh, the way his confidence had faltered under my blows. 

No doubt that display alone would have put me high on the detective’s list—the guy who wanted to make Ethan pay for what he’d done to Winter. And now… he was dead.

But that didn’t even seem to matter. 

Their focus, their questions, their scrutiny, all remained locked entirely on Winter—as if she were the one at fault, as if she were the one under suspicion. The thought made my blood boil hotter than it already was.

I leaned against the counter, breathing hard, letting the quiet of the house press in around me, though it offered no peace. 

Every nerve was still wound tight, every muscle coiled, ready to protect her, to strike if anyone tried to harm her.

But for now, all I could do was brace myself for whatever came next—and make sure Winter was safe, no matter what.

My hands flexed against the counter as I sank into it for a moment, closing my eyes. I hated this—the helplessness, the anger, the fear that no matter what I did, I couldn’t make the world safe for her. 

And now detectives were sniffing around, looking for breadcrumbs, trying to make a case out of her life, and the thought of them pinning any of this on her made my stomach twist.

I took a long, slow breath, but it barely touched the tight knot in my chest. I wanted to take her somewhere far away, somewhere no one could ever reach her. 

But I couldn’t. 

Not yet. 

Not when he was still out there, the bastard who had done this… and still the world was trying to mistake her for guilty.

I ran a hand over my face again, teeth grinding behind my jaw. I’d protect her. I’d fix this. 

Somehow. 

I grabbed another beer from the fridge, cracking it open and downing it in one long, hard pull. 

The cold burned a little, but it did nothing to wash away the tension knotted in my chest. I slammed the empty can onto the counter, the metal ringing sharply in the quiet kitchen.

My head throbbed, muscles still wound tight from the day, but all I could think about was Winter—finally asleep, finally safe in her room, yet still a target in this fucked-up nightmare. 

William stepped in, calm, too calm, but I could see the edge in his posture, the way his gaze flicked from me to the hallway leading to her bedroom.

“How’s Winter?” he asked, voice casual but laced with that probing undertone I hated.

I let out a rough, bitter laugh. 

“How do you think she fucking is? She’s upstairs, safe. Unlike you, I don’t have to sit there questioning her about her honesty.”

“Calm down, boy. It’s just a question,” he said, eyes narrowing, a warning in his tone.

“Question?” I spat, the word tasting like venom. 

“Like the one about the email? That one? You actually thought she could’ve done something that might get herself—or anyone—hurt?”

William’s jaw tightened. 

“Careful, Zion. Don’t you dare twist my intentions. I’m just making sure we have all the facts. I need to know everything if we’re going to protect her.”

I slammed my hand onto the counter, making him flinch. 

“You shouldn’t need to fucking ask. You should know her. She didn’t write those emails. She didn’t reach out to Ethan. She didn’t lure him anywhere. She’s your daughter! You’re supposed to have her back—to protect her, not sit here acting like she’s some criminal under your roof!”

“Zion, calm down. I’m not accusing her,” he said, voice hard, eyes locked on mine. 

“But we can’t ignore anything. Every detail matters.”

“Every detail matters?” I growled, stepping closer, teeth clenched. 

“Detail matters when it points at the right person! She didn’t do anything, William. And you're questioning her like this? That’s not facts—that’s poison. You have no idea how that must have felt for her, to be doubted by her own father!”

His lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I’m doing what’s right, Zion! You dare lecture me about safety? You dare tell me how to handle my own daughter?
I know what she needs, and I will make sure nothing is hidden from me. You think you get to tell me how to keep her safe? Think again!”

“Safe?” I barked, laughter sharp and low, my hands balling into fists at my sides. 

“She’s safe because I’m here, because I’ll tear the world apart before anything touches her. Not because of your questions, not because of your so-called ‘facts.’ You’ve already planted doubt. You don’t get to do that—not with her.”

William’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tight, but his voice carried a sharp edge, almost mocking. 

“You think you can just muscle through this and protect her? You act like the world bends around your anger and frustration. You don’t get to decide how the law works, Zion. You kids only see red when things get hard. Someone has to be level-headed here.”

I slammed my fist against the counter, rattling the cans. 

“Level-headed? She’s my girl! She doesn’t need your lecture on law or facts—she needs a father who trusts her, not a lecture on procedure! You don’t even get it!”

William’s lips curled, a faint, bitter smirk that made my blood boil. 

“Maybe I do get it… Maybe I just see what you refuse to. Blind fury doesn’t keep anyone safe. Facts do. Reality does. You’re letting your anger run your life, and I won’t stand by and pretend that’s enough.”

My hands clenched tighter, my voice low and dangerous. 

“Enough! Don’t you dare lecture me about anything. You don’t know what Winters's been through, or what I’ve seen in her eyes—the fear, the terror, the helplessness. And yet here you are, questioning her… questioning my girl! 

I slammed my fist against the counter, making the metal ring, eyes blazing.

"Why don’t you just say it out loud? You’re pissed at us being together—you can’t stand the fact that she chose me over whatever fantasy you had for her life—that she trusts me, that she loves me—and now you’re taking it out on her, dragging her into your suspicion, like she’s some criminal, like she’s capable of this madness you’re imagining. That ends right now, stepdaddy! I will not let you poison her with your doubt. Not one second longer!”

William’s jaw tightened, eyes flashing with barely contained anger. His voice was cold, sharp, cutting straight to the bone.

“Yes. I’m pissed. I don’t think you’re good enough for my daughter,” he spat, each word loaded with venom. 

“Do you think I haven’t seen who you really are? The lies, the girls you’ve used and tossed aside, never caring about anyone’s feelings but your own. The drinking, the illegal street races, the underground fights—you’re reckless, unstable, a disaster waiting to happen.”

He stepped closer, voice rising, trembling with frustration.

“You’ve spent your life testing limits, breaking rules, living like consequences don’t exist. And now you want to waltz in, claiming you love her? Do you even understand what love means, or is this just another game for you?”

I took a slow, deliberate step toward him, letting the tension hang heavy between us. My jaw clenched, voice low, sharp, but every word laced with controlled fury.

“You think you know me? You’ve seen pieces, sure—but not the parts that matter. I’ve made my mistakes, yeah, but I’ve never, not once, put Winter in danger for my own thrills. You didn’t raise her, and you sure as hell don’t get to dictate who she can care about. I’ve made mistakes, yeah—but every choice I’ve made with her has been real, every damn second

Every rule I’ve broken, every fight I’ve taken—none of it touches her. You’re scared, you don’t trust me, and that’s fine. But don’t you dare stand there and lecture me about love when you’ve never felt it like I feel it for her.”

I let the words settle, my eyes burning into his, unwavering, impossible to argue with. 

“She's not a game, stepdaddy. She’s not a trophy, and I’m not here for your approval. I’m here to protect her, and anyone who thinks otherwise—well, they’ll learn exactly why they’re wrong.”

We stood frozen, eyes locked in a deadly stare, the tension between us so thick it pressed against my chest like a vice.

William’s finger lifted, as if he was about to speak, his lips parting, but before a word could leave, a shrill alarm shattered the silence, slicing through the mansion.

William flinched, eyes narrowing, calculating. 

“What the hell—”

My first thought—Snowflake.

No.

My muscles coiled instantly.

Fuck!!

Heart hammering, I didn’t wait for anything else. 

I bolted toward the stairs, every muscle coiling, every nerve screaming. Adrenaline surged as I raced up, two steps at a time, barely noticing William trailing behind, his voice lost in the panic clawing at my chest.