The morning Thalia moved like a shadow, deliberately avoiding Vicious at every turn. Her steps were measured, her gaze fixed on tasks, her heart heavy with yesterday's storm. She could feel his presence lingering—an invisible weight—but she refused to meet his eyes.
Vicious tried, as he always did. A half-smile here, a subtle glance there, even stepping close enough for her to sense his warmth. Each attempt was met with a deliberate shift from her, a stiffening shoulder, a quick look away. By late morning, his frustration was palpable.
With a low sigh, he pushed his chair back and left the office. "Enough," he muttered to himself, the quiet tension still trailing after him.
The silence was broken by the thunder of the door slamming open.
"VICIOUS!"
He spun, instantly alert, hand tightening at his side. Matt barged into the room, eyes blazing with anger and grief. Without a word, he grabbed Vicious by the collar, shaking him with controlled force.
"All your fault, you moron! How long are you going to mess up her life?!" Matt's voice was raw, every syllable punctuated by fury.
Vicious's eyes narrowed, a dangerous calm descending over him. His voice dropped low, controlled but icy. "How dare you come back and face me?" He pulled out his gun in one fluid motion, pressing it subtly against Matt's chest. "Nobody can save you. I'm giving you one chance—go now, and never show your face again."
Matt didn't flinch. His jaw was set, his hands trembling slightly but refusing to release the grip he had on Vicious. "You don't deserve Thalia!" he yelled. "You're bad luck, Vicious! Do you even know what she's been through?!"
Vicious's hand tightened on the gun, his breathing controlled, but his chest rose sharply under the tension. "Explain. Now," he hissed, voice dangerously low.
Matt took a deep breath, his eyes burning with grief. "Her baby… your baby… she lost it when her husband died. Two weeks pregnant, and you didn't even treat her properly. You made her feel small, humiliated… you—"
Vicious's expression hardened, his usual composure wavering only slightly. "Do you think you can lecture me?" he snarled. "Do you think you can stand there and tell me how to live my life?!"
"You've destroyed so much for her!" Matt shouted. "And you don't even know half of it! I hope… I hope you take a long, hard look at yourself and realize what you've done!"
The room felt electric, charged with the tension of two men ready to explode. Vicious's hand hovered near his gun, yet his eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty. Matt's fury was tempered with grief, and he refused to back down.
At the hospital, Jill paced in a frenzy. Every second felt like an eternity. "Where is he?!" she whispered, voice tight with panic. No trace of Matt anywhere. She grabbed her phone and called Leo, quickly checking the footage from the entrances and hallways, tracing every possible path he could have taken.
Then, the door swung open, and Matt stepped inside. Slightly bruised, a faint scratch on his cheek, but alive.
"Matt!" Jill yelled, rushing toward him. "You are not fully recovered! Where have you been?! I was worried sick!"
Matt lifted his hands in apology, a small, almost guilty smile tugging at his lips. "I'm sorry, Jill… I didn't mean to scare you. I just… I had to see him. I had to make him understand."
Jill stopped in her tracks, a mixture of relief and exasperation washing over her. "You are impossible," she snapped, though the tension in her voice softened. "You're supposed to be taking care of yourself, not chasing danger!"
"I know," Matt said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck, exhaustion and adrenaline evident in the slump of his shoulders. "But some things… I can't let slide. Not when it comes to her."
Jill shook her head, half-smiling despite herself, frustration giving way to worry. "Next time, you think about me before anyone else, got it?"
Matt nodded, the storm inside him finally easing slightly,