Cold air rushed in first, sharp and brutal, followed immediately by Carrie and two men flanking her. I straightened in surprise and the sandwiches slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with dull thuds.

"My, Henrik," she said pleasantly as she stepped inside, brushing snow off her long coat like this was a casual visit. "You were hard to follow in this weather, I won't lie."

"Carrie," I said, my jaw tightening. "What are you doing here?"

"I know you went to Anotta," she replied, her tone light. "Come on. Let's talk somewhere more private."

Before I could finish whatever I was about to say, one of the men grabbed my arm hard and hauled me toward the door. They didn't give me time to react. We were outside in seconds.

They were all dressed for the cold, coats zipped, gloves on. I wasn't. The wind cut into me immediately, the storm still raging hard enough to make my skin burn.

"F-fuck," I muttered through chattering teeth. "What are you doing?"

"Drop whatever you're planning," Carrie said as she stepped in front of me. The two men positioned themselves behind me, blocking the door back inside. "And this ends quickly. I was supposed to leave today with Kim, but the pilot said the jet couldn't take off in this weather."

"Leave?" I asked.

"Miami," she said casually. "Or Dubai. Somewhere warm. Not this disgusting country. This disgusting city."

"You won't take Kim with you," I said, my voice shaking from the cold.

She smiled. "I won't?" Then her expression sharpened. "Take off your sweater, Henrik."

"What?"

"One phone call," she said quietly. "And I let ALL of my men have their turn with Kim."

She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear, her voice full of contempt.

"One FUCKING call."

I stared at her, my hands trembling, then shut my eyes and pulled the sweater over my head. The cold slammed into me instantly, vicious and unforgiving.

"Do you understand who's in control now?" she asked. "Do you really think you're in a position to threaten me?"

"I'll—"

"Your boots," she interrupted. "Now. And the socks. Or my men will… excuse my language, Henrik, or my men will rape the absloute shit out of Kim."

I looked at her, fury burning through me, but I bent down and removed them anyway. My feet hit the snow and the pain was immediate, sharp enough to make my vision blur. The storm hadn't stopped, only slowed, and every second felt worse than the last.

The sky shifted color, a strange pink hue spreading overhead, and suddenly everything froze. The wind stopped, the snow hung motionless in the air, Carrie locked mid-step.

Dierella appeared behind her, wings moving lazily, her face twisted with anger as she pointed straight at Carrie.

"Use Time Stop," she said harshly. "Kill her. Fuck her. Break her."

"No," I said, my voice hoarse, my body still shaking. "Not yet. I need to know Kim is safe first. Then comes whatever comes next."

"She threatened you," Dierella screamed. "She threatened everything you care about."

"No," I said again.

"You can always find a girl like Kim to fill her place!" Dierella screamed. "She is just a fucking meat hole!"

"NO!"

The world snapped back into motion. Carrie stepped away from me, laughing softly. She grabbed my sweater, boots, and socks from my hands and threw them into the street.

"Go get them," she said. "Dog."

She turned, crossed the street, and got into her car. Before it pulled away, she looked back at me with something close to pity and waved once.

I rushed into the street, grabbed my clothes with numb hands, and pulled them back on as fast as I could outside, not caring how I looked. I stumbled back inside, the door slamming shut behind me. My foot caught on something and I went down hard on the floor.

Carrie. Carrie. Carrie.

What she did to me didn't matter. I didn't care about the cold, the humiliation, any of it. But threatening Kim crossed a line she was going to regret crossing.

Nala came down the stairs at a near run. The moment she saw me on the floor, pale and shaking, she yelped and hurried over, the clerk woman rushing out from behind the desk at the same time.

"Oh my god, what happened?" Nala said, dropping to her knees in front of me. Her hands were already on my arms, rubbing warmth into them. "You're freezing. I—I saw you outside through the window and…"

"I'm… I'm good," I said, though my teeth chattered hard enough to make it a lie.

"EVAN, WHAT THE FUCK," she snapped, panic breaking through her composure.

"We'll talk at the car," I said, forcing myself to focus. "Can you help me up?"

"O-okay," she replied, nodding quickly.

She hooked an arm under my shoulder and helped me to my feet while the clerk hovered nearby, asking if she should call someone. I shook my head, coughing once as the air scraped my throat. It was clear she couldn't wait until we got to the car.

I leaned closer to Nala, keeping my voice low since the clerk was right there. "Carrie was here," I whispered. "They were supposed to leave today, but the weather grounded her. If the forecasters are right, we have a few more days to get Kim back."

Nala froze for a second, her jaw tightening. "She… made you do this?"

"Yeah," I muttered, anger buzzing under my skin. "Had me strip outside. Don't worry. I'm fine."

Her eyes darkened. "She's worse than Guy."

"Go upstairs," I said quietly. "Grab my jacket. And… you drive."

"Alright," she said immediately. "I'll do that. Stay here, okay?"

I let out a weak huff. "Not like I'm going anywhere."

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎❤︎

As Nala knocked on the door, I leaned my forehead against the cold, cracked wall, letting my shoulders slump under the weight of everything that had happened. I could feel my muscles trembling beneath my jacket, the strain from the climb, the stress from the confrontation, and the overwhelming fatigue that had settled in my bones.

This place was a dump, no elevator, and Mark had to live on the tenth floor. We'd climbed every single step, and after what Carrie had pulled earlier, my legs felt like jelly. I had to stop twice on the way up, my chest tightening, like someone was slowly wrapping their hands around my ribs. The black spots in my vision were starting to fade, but I still felt light-headed.

Footsteps echoed from the other side of the door, sharp and heavy. Then I heard the soft slide of something metal—probably the peephole cover—before a man's voice, wary and irritated, filtered through the wood.

"Who is it at this hour?" His voice was rough, like he'd just woken up. "It's nearly midnight."

"We're here about something important," Nala said, her voice steady, almost disinterested. "It concerns your wife."

"My wife?" Mark's voice shifted from confusion to flatness. "She's been dead for three years. God bless her soul. What do you want?"

"Just to talk about the accident," Nala said, the words clear and precise, like she was briefing a witness. "Please open the door."

"No." Mark's response was firm, almost robotic. "Go away. It's over. She's dead. I've moved on."

I lifted my head, feeling the pulse in my throat. Anger flared up inside me, sharp and immediate. I turned toward the door, my voice tight as I stepped closer. "Did you take the hush money?" I asked, the words full of contempt. "Did you take Carrie's money so you wouldn't push the case, Mark?"

There was a long pause. The silence stretched out, thick and uncomfortable. Finally, he spoke, his voice edged with disbelief. "What?"

"Did you take it?" I pressed, my pulse quickening. "Did you sell the truth for a check? Did you let them bury your wife's murder for a few extra bucks?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Mark's voice cracked with rising frustration.

I was done holding back. I planted my feet in front of the door, leaning into the tension. "Have some guts, Mark," I said, my voice rough but steady. "Don't let your wife's death mean nothing. Don't take the easy way out."

"Ms. Beldenwary and I settled the case," Mark said, his voice flat, almost rehearsed. "The traffic light malfunctioned. The city was at fault. The driver hit her. That's what happened."

"Bullshit." My words cut through the air, direct and cold. I straightened up and stared at the peephole like I could burn a hole through it with my gaze. "You and I both know that isn't true."

"It is the truth," Mark snapped, his tone growing more defensive. "I don't want to continue this conversation. You can both go to hell."

"Do the right thing, Mark," I said, my voice rising with the anger that had been simmering under the surface. "For your wife. Let us help you. Help us reopen the case and—"

"No," he interrupted, the finality in his words like a door slamming shut. "I said no. And now I get why she came here earlier to warn me."

Nala's head snapped toward the door, her eyes narrowing. "She?"

"Yes," Mark said, his voice cold. "Ms. Beldenwary. She reminded me of our agreement. I didn't understand why she showed up tonight, but now I do. It's because of you two. Stop meddling in other people's business."

"Open the door," Nala said, her voice still even, though there was a new edge to it. "Let's talk face to face. We can find a solution."

"Leave me alone." Mark shot back.

"Listen to me," I said, my heart pounding harder now, the anger turning into something darker. "Carrie is dangerous. You know it. I know it. So why hide? Why keep lying for her instead of standing up and—"

"That's exactly why," he cut in, his voice rising with irritation. "Ms. Beldenw—"

"Oh, fuck off. Say her name," I snapped, the words like a whip. "Say Carrie. Stop kissing her ass. Her son killed your wife. Do you really sleep at night knowing you took her money?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.