My phone rings in the dead of night, the screen lighting up with a name I both expected and dreaded: Ethan.
I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the screen. Every instinct screams not to answer, but I swipe to accept the call.
His voice cuts through the silence, smooth but strained, like a man trying to stay in control while everything around him crumbles.
Ethan: “Alyssa, we need to talk. Now.”
I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What’s this about, Ethan? More lies? Another scheme?”
Ethan: (ignoring my sarcasm) “Xavier’s coming for me, and if he wins, we both lose. This is bigger than you think.”
“Bigger than my dead uncle? Spare me.” My voice is cold, but inside, I feel the familiar twist of uncertainty. Ethan lies like other people breathe-effortless, constant. But what if there’s a grain of truth buried in his words?
There’s a beat of silence on the line before he speaks again, his tone measured.
Ethan: “I know you don’t trust me, Alyssa. But I have a plan to take Xavier down. I can end this war.”
“Why do I get the feeling that ‘ending the war’ involves me risking everything while you walk away unscathed?”
Ethan: “Because you’re smart. But this time, I’m not lying to you. I need your help.”
I stare at the shadows creeping along the ceiling, the weight of his words pressing down on me. Ethan is desperate-more desperate than I’ve ever heard him.
“Why should I believe you?” I ask quietly, the edges of suspicion sharp in my voice. “For all I know, you’re the one who had my uncle killed. You benefit the most from his death.”
There’s a brief pause-too brief to be real guilt, too long to be a lie smoothly delivered.
Ethan: “I had nothing to do with your uncle. Xavier’s the one pulling those strings, Alyssa. He’s cutting down everyone in his way, one by one.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you? After everything?”
Ethan: (his voice softens) “I don’t expect you to believe me. But I know you want Xavier gone just as much as I do. Maybe more.”
He’s right, and we both know it. But knowing what I want doesn’t make this any easier. Ethan is poison. He destroys everything he touches, and yet… I can’t walk away. Not yet.
“What do you need from me?” I ask, my voice flat.
Ethan: “Your resources. Your contacts. If we move quickly, we can dismantle what’s left of Xavier’s power structure before he knows what hit him.”
I lean back against the headboard, the phone pressed to my ear. “And in return?”
Ethan: (his voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone) “In return, Xavier is gone-for good. You’ll have control of your family’s business, unchallenged.”
It’s the perfect offer-too perfect. My mind churns through the possibilities, the angles. If I play this wrong, I’ll end up as collateral damage in Ethan’s war. But if I play it right… I could come out on top.
“Fine,” I say at last, my voice measured. “I’ll help you. But if you screw me over, Ethan-”
Ethan: (cutting in smoothly) “I know. You’ll kill me yourself.”
His confidence grates on me, but I bite back the retort. I need him, just like he needs me. For now.
After the call ends, I sit in the dark, the silence pressing in from all sides. My fingers tap restlessly against the edge of the phone.
I should feel relieved-like I’m finally taking control of the situation. Instead, all I feel is suspicion coiling tighter in my chest. Something about Ethan’s desperation doesn’t sit right.
It’s too convenient that he called me right after my uncle’s death, too neat that he needs my help just as everything is falling apart.
What if he orchestrated this entire mess to force me to his side?
The thought sticks, cold and ugly in my mind. Ethan has always played the long game-and I might just be his next pawn.
I can’t let Ethan know that I’m onto him-not yet. If I confront him without proof, he’ll twist the truth until I doubt myself.
No. I’ll play along, feed him just enough to think I’m committed to his plan. And in the meantime, I’ll dig deeper-find out if he really had my uncle killed.
If he did… this ends with Ethan Sterling bleeding at my feet.
As I’m lost in thought, there’s a soft knock at my apartment door. I freeze, tension snapping through me like a wire pulled too tight.
No one knows I’m here. No one except-
I move quietly toward the door, my hand slipping into the drawer where I keep my gun. The weight of the weapon is familiar and reassuring.
Another knock, this one sharper.
“Who is it?” I call, my voice steady despite the tension in my chest.
A pause. Then a voice I don’t recognize.
Stranger: “I have something for you. From Ethan.”
My stomach twists. Ethan wouldn’t send anything without a warning.
I unlock the door but keep the chain in place as I crack it open. A man in a black hoodie stands on the other side, holding a small package wrapped in brown paper.
“Leave it by the door,” I say, my voice sharp.
He nods and places the package on the ground before walking away without another word.
I close the door and stare at the package for a long moment, my pulse thundering in my ears. This could be anything-a warning, a threat, a trap.
Carefully, I unwrap the package. Inside is a slim envelope. My name is scrawled on the front in neat, unfamiliar handwriting.
I open it, my breath catching in my throat as I pull out the contents.
It’s a photo-one I’ve never seen before.
In the photo, Ethan stands beside my uncle, both of them shaking hands.
On the back, there’s a single line written in black ink:
“He was always a part of the plan.”
The room tilts, and I grip the edge of the table to steady myself. The pieces are finally starting to fall into place-and the truth is worse than I imagined.
Ethan didn’t just benefit from my uncle’s death. He planned it.
And now… I’m trapped in his game.