The floor seemed to drop out from under Luna. She slapped a palm against the elevator wall to keep herself upright, her breath catching hard in her chest.
"What?" she whispered. The word barely sounded like her own.
"Your apartment." Ethan's voice had changed—no warmth left in it now, just sharp focus. "There's a fire. We need to go. Now."
The elevator doors were already sliding shut.
"No—wait!" She slammed her fingers against the panel, jabbing the button again and again. The doors kept closing anyway.
"Please…" The word came out broken.
Ethan didn't panic. He didn't swear. He pulled out his phone and tapped twice, fast, like this wasn't new to him.
"Ground floor," he said into the phone. "Emergency override. Now."
The elevator jolted.
Then dropped.
Too fast.
Her stomach lurched violently. She grabbed the handrail, heart slamming into her throat. "Ethan—what are you doing?"
"I have access," he said shortly. "Emergency protocols."
She stared at him. "How do you have emergency access to a five-star hotel?"
He didn't answer.
The silence was heavy, suffocating—like smoke before the fire shows itself.
The numbers blurred past. Fifteen. Ten. Five.
The elevator shuddered and stopped before the doors were fully open.
Ethan was already pulling her forward. He didn't let go of her hand as they rushed through the lobby. Conversations cut off mid-sentence. A waiter froze, a tray clattering to the floor. Security moved aside instantly when they saw him—no questions, no hesitation.
Something cold settled in Luna's chest.
Outside, a black sedan waited, engine humming softly.
The driver stepped out. "Mr. Cole—"
"Drive," Ethan said, pushing Luna into the back seat and sliding in after her.
"How bad is it?" he asked.
"Third floor, sir. Apartment 3C. It spread quickly."
Luna's breath hitched. Her apartment was 3B. Right next door.
"Oh God…" Her voice cracked. "Mrs. Chen—she lives there. She can't move fast—"
"She's been evacuated," the driver said. "Firefighters got everyone out."
Luna pressed her forehead to the window as the city streaked past in red and white blurs. Sirens screamed. Radios crackled. Bangkok felt like it was tilting off its axis.
"Please," she said. "Go faster."
Ethan's hand closed over hers—firm, grounding. His face was different now, sharpened into something dangerous.
"This wasn't an accident," he said quietly.
Her blood went cold. "What?"
"The fire. Someone started it."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"Who would do that?"
His jaw tightened. "That's what I'm about to find out."
The street outside her building was chaos—fire engines, flashing lights, water pounding against glass. Thick smoke poured from the third floor.
Her floor.
She was out of the car before it stopped fully.
"Luna—wait!" Ethan shouted.
She didn't. A firefighter grabbed her arm.
"Ma'am, you can't go in—"
"I live there!" she cried. "Third floor!"
"Everyone's been evacuated—"
"Mrs. Chen—please—"
Ethan stepped in. He didn't raise his voice. He just looked at the firefighter.
Recognition flickered.
"Mr. Cole," the man said, releasing her. "Everyone's out. Mrs. Chen is stable."
Relief hit Luna so hard her knees nearly buckled. Then grief followed—sharp and helpless. Her books. Her scarves. Her father's watch.
"My dad's watch," she whispered. "It was on my dresser."
Ethan's expression tightened. He turned to the firefighter. "When can we go inside?"
"Hours," the man said. "At least."
"We'll wait," Ethan replied.
They sat across the street among stunned neighbors. Mrs. Chen lay on a stretcher, oxygen mask fogging softly.
"This is my fault," Luna said suddenly.
"No," Ethan said.
"You said someone did this on purpose."
"Yes."
"Then it was because of me."
He didn't deny it. "I'll handle it."
The calm certainty in his voice scared her more than the fire.
"I don't have a home anymore," she said, a brittle laugh escaping her.
Ethan stood and held out his hand. "You do."
The car took them somewhere unreal—quiet streets, glass towers, private gates. The building they stopped at looked like it belonged in a magazine.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"Home."
Security nodded. "Mr. Cole."
The elevator opened into a vast apartment, all glass and silence.
"This is where you live?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And the other place?"
"I stayed there to be close to you."
Her chest tightened. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I was protecting you."
"From what?"
"This world."
"And the fire?"
"Yes."
She wrapped her arms around herself. "Maybe I should leave."
"Where would you go?"
She had no answer.
His phone buzzed. He stepped aside, speaking low and sharp.
"Check again. Don't involve her… I said the Singapore deal stays buried."
Her pulse spiked.
"What does Singapore deal with?" she asked.
He hesitated. "I knew about your father's company before we met."
"You planned this," she said.
"I planned to investigate," he replied. "Not to fall in love."
The elevator chimed.
"Mr. Cole," a man said urgently, "Sienna Park is here."
Ethan stiffened.
"She says your wife deserves the truth."
"No," Ethan said.
"Yes," Luna said. "I do."
The doors opened.
Cliffhanger: Sienna Park stepped out effortlessly, placing an envelope on the table.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Cole," she said smoothly. "You wer
e bought."
Luna stared at the envelope.
Whatever was inside had the power to tear everything apart.