The city lay subdued beneath the muted glow of streetlights, the empty streets silent save for the quiet tap of footsteps against pavement. Vivian barely felt the chill of the night, too caught up in the weight of the hoodie draped over her shoulders—unworn, yet heavier than it should have been. Her torn blouse brushed painfully against the raw skin beneath, a sharp, uncomfortable reminder of what had nearly happened—and what truly had. She clenched her jaw, determined not to dwell on it, on him, yet there she was, walking in silence beside Noah.

  Noah matched her pace effortlessly, his hands tucked casually into his pockets, his posture relaxed in a way she found deliberately provocative. Even half-hidden by shadows, his presence felt oppressive, his slightly tousled hair falling forward to partially conceal eyes sharp with calculating interest. The bruise along his jawline had faded into a shadow, a lingering reminder of the violence always simmering just beneath his polished exterior.

  She maintained a careful distance, a small but deliberate gap that silently reminded him—and herself—that she was not with him by choice. Noah noticed, of course. Occasionally, his gaze flickered sideways, assessing her carefully, trying to gauge her mood. She could sense his curiosity, his unspoken questions about where she stood after everything he'd done. She knew how much he enjoyed control, knew his silence was purposeful, testing her, pushing her to break first. Tonight, she chose silence as her weapon, holding back her anger and her accusations, drawing him deeper into her own calculated quiet.

  Her hatred toward Noah was stark and raw, intensified by his manipulations and betrayal, yet tempered by necessity. He had the phone—the killer’s phone, the only tangible clue left connecting her to Vince’s murderer and her missing cousin Serena. Without it, Vivian had nothing, and Noah wielded that knowledge cruelly, silently, savoring the leverage it gave him.

  The silence stretched until Noah, predictably, could no longer bear relinquishing control. “You’re quiet,” he remarked, voice deceptively casual, edged with amusement.

  Vivian felt a flicker of satisfaction at his impatience but kept her voice calm, neutral. “What do you want, Noah?”

  He hesitated a fraction too long, betraying a rare moment of uncertainty before his usual smug mask slid back into place. “That’s a loaded question, Viv.”

  She didn’t respond, and his grin faltered slightly. Good.

  They continued walking, their steps echoing softly against the pavement, until Vivian broke the silence again, her tone deliberately casual. “Lucas is out of the way now. You won. So what happens next?”

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  Noah’s ego visibly perked up, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he savored the small victory. “You tell me, Viv. What do you think happens next?”

  She paused, choosing her words carefully, aware that pushing too hard or too little could be equally dangerous. “Well,” she began, forcing a calm indifference into her voice, “you did say I could tag along.”

  His eyes gleamed at her apparent compliance, his satisfaction evident. “I did, didn’t I?”

  They reached the dorm entrance, and Vivian immediately reached for the handle, eager to escape, but Noah smoothly blocked her way, leaning close enough that she felt trapped between him and the door.

  “Aren’t you inviting me in?” His voice was low, taunting.

  Vivian’s eyes flashed, her voice sharp. “Move.”

  Instead, Noah leaned even closer, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Are you afraid I’d do something, Viv? Like press you against this door and touch you until you forget you hate me?”

  Her pulse quickened, but she held his gaze, anger controlled behind her careful composure. She redirected their focus deliberately. “What’s next, Noah?”

  He tilted his head slightly, feigning ignorance. “Next? Well, there’s the weekend. Then classes next week.” His smile turned smug. “Are you asking me out on a date, Viv?”

  Vivian’s patience thinned dangerously. “The killer’s phone. You have it. You said you knew what was on it.”

  Noah’s grin widened viciously, pleased by her directness. “Ah yes, I do.”

  Her voice hardened further. “I need to know what's on it. I need to find Serena.”

  Noah leaned in, voice deliberately intimate. “I suppose we really do need a date then.” He rocked back onto his heels, confident, infuriatingly self-assured. “Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up here at eleven. It’ll be fun, Viv.”

  Vivian stepped back abruptly and slammed the door shut between them, pressing her back against the cool interior wall, eyes tightly shut as a memory surged sharply into focus.

  Warmth and laughter filled the cramped apartment as steam curled from a bubbling hotpot. Serena sat cross-legged on their worn sofa, poking impatiently at the pot with her chopsticks.

  “Stop it,” Vince scolded, swatting Serena’s chopsticks away playfully. “It’s not ready yet!”

  Serena rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re paranoid.”

  “You can’t eat raw chicken, Serena!” Vince retorted in mock frustration. “Back me up, Viv.”

  Vivian smiled softly, savoring the gentle ease of the moment. “He’s right. Just wait a bit.”

  Serena groaned theatrically, flopping back onto the cushions. “You two are impossible. Vince, you're worse than an old woman.”

  Vince laughed, shaking his head fondly, eyes warm and full of quiet tenderness Vivian wished she had recognized then as rare and irreplaceable. Such a simple, mundane moment—now gone forever, replaced by stark loss and unanswered questions.

  Vivian opened her eyes slowly, her resolve solidifying into an unyielding determination. Serena was still out there, somewhere, alone. If playing Noah’s twisted game brought her cousin home, she would endure every mocking smile and every bitter word. She would let Noah think he held all the cards, just long enough for her to reclaim control.

  Outside, Noah lingered by the closed door, amusement fading into something darker and possessive. Vivian believed her hatred was a shield, but he knew better. She was more than leverage—she had become his obsession, undeniable and dangerously alluring. And if he played his cards carefully, soon she wouldn’t deny it either.