Ethan pushed through the automatic doors of the Hills Estate supermarket, the plastic bags heavy in his hands—fresh vegetables, prime cuts of beef, and a bottle of red wine he'd grabbed on impulse. The evening air hit him like a cool slap, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside his skull. That kiss. Lena's lips, soft and desperate, had crashed into him without warning, right there between the cereal aisle and the frozen foods. His Money Deck System had flared up like a faulty neon sign:
LENA PARK – Affection 33% | Loyalty 50%
The holographic text had burned into his retinas before flickering out. Version 1.0 wasn't built for this. No clubs, no diamonds, no hearts or spades—just raw, unfiltered chaos. He mentally swatted the interface away, forcing the glowing panels to dissolve into nothing. Focus, Ethan. One crisis at a time.
Lena lingered a step behind, her designer sneakers scuffing the pavement. Her cheeks were still flushed, eyes darting everywhere but at him. He exhaled, steadying his voice. "Follow me."
She fell into step without a word, the silence between them thick enough to choke on.
The walk to the villa was short, but every second stretched. Hills Estate loomed ahead—manicured lawns, wrought-iron gates, security cameras that cost more than his old apartment's rent. Lena's gaze flicked up to the three-story facade, the floor-to-ceiling windows glowing amber against the dusk.
"This place…" Her voice was small, almost lost in the hum of cicadas. "Where did you get it, Ethan? Three years. We dated for three years back at St. Helens, and you were…" She trailed off, biting her lip.
"Poor?" He supplied, unlocking the gate with a thumbprint. The mechanism clicked open like a secret. "Yeah. I know."
She shook her head, blonde hair catching the porch light. "I never cared about that. You know I didn't. It was how you made me feel. Like I could breathe, even when everyone else was suffocating me with expectations." Her fingers twisted the hem of her jacket. "If I hadn't stepped in, Roland Halstrom would've had you expelled in a heartbeat. That school was a shark tank for rich kids. You were the only one who didn't belong—and the only one worth keeping."
Ethan paused at the threshold, keys dangling. "You blackmailed the vice principal. Twice."
"Once before we broke up. Once after." She met his eyes, unflinching. "Adam's been gunning for you because of me. I thought… if I left, you'd be safe. That was the lie I told myself every night." Her voice cracked. "I was wrong."
He wanted to reach for her, to bridge the chasm of years and bad decisions, but the weight of the grocery bags grounded him. "Come inside."
The door swung open into the foyer—polished marble, a chandelier that cost more than most cars, the faint scent of lemon polish. Ethan kicked off his shoes and headed for the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, "Make yourself comfortable. I'll cook."
Lena stepped in hesitantly, and that's when she saw her.
Faye stood by the staircase, arms crossed, a silk robe cinched tight around her waist. Her dark hair was damp from a shower, eyes sharp as broken glass. The air in the room shifted—like someone had flipped a switch from warm to arctic.
Ethan felt it too, a prickle at the back of his neck, but he chalked it up to tension. Two beautiful women, one roof, zero context. He forced a smile. "Faye, this is Lena. Lena, Faye. She's… staying here for a bit."
Faye's lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. "Charmed."
Lena's bag slipped from her shoulder, hitting the floor with a soft thud. "PX," she said, the syllable dripping venom.
Faye's eyebrow arched. "Well, well. The Park princess herself. Hacker extraordinaire. Didn't think you'd show your face outside the dark web."
Ethan blinked, halfway to the kitchen. "Uh. I'm just gonna—" He jerked a thumb toward the fridge. "Steaks. Garlic. You two… play nice."
He vanished behind the island counter, the clatter of pans drowning out the rising static. But even as he seasoned the meat, the voices filtered through.
"Faye now?" Lena's tone was ice. "Cute. How'd you crawl out of the Organization's cage, Lina? Or whatever alias you're burning through this week."
Faye stepped closer, bare feet silent on the marble. "Escape's a strong word. Let's say I renegotiated my contract. But you—last I heard, you were engaged to Adam Vale. Wedding bells and blood money. So why are you here, sniffing around my boyfriend?"
"Your boyfriend?" Lena laughed, sharp and brittle. "We broke up to protect him. You think I wanted to? Adam's unhinged. He'd have ruined Ethan just to hurt me. But you—" She jabbed a finger at Faye's chest. "You're a demon in a woman's skin. Whatever game you're running, it ends here. Ethan is under my protection."
Faye's smile turned feral. "Protection? That's rich coming from the girl who ghosted him for three years. Tell me, PX, did Daddy's merger money taste sweet when you sold your soul? Because Ethan's mine now. And demons don't share."
In the kitchen, Ethan flipped a steak, the sizzle masking his racing pulse. He couldn't hear every word, but the venom was unmistakable. PX? Lina? Organization? His system stayed mercifully silent—no cards, no missions, just the version 1.0 equivalent of a shrug. He plated the food, hands steady through sheer willpower.
When he returned, the women were statues—Lena by the couch, Faye at the foot of the stairs, the space between them crackling. He set the plates down like a peace offering.
"Dinner's ready," he said mildly. "Eat. Talk. Or kill each other quietly—I've got a restaurant to renovate tomorrow."
Lena's eyes flicked to him, softening for a fraction of a second. Faye's gaze lingered, calculating.
Neither moved toward the table.
Ethan sighed, spearing a piece of beef. "Or don't. But if anyone bleeds on the rug, you're both cleaning it."
The silence stretched, taut as a wire. Outside, the Hills Estate settled into night, oblivious to the storm brewing within its walls.