The bar smelled of old smoke and cheaper whiskey. Neon bled in from the street, painting the mirrors blue and red. Antonio sat hunched at the far end of the counter, glass in hand, staring at nothing. He muttered to himself between sips until the words blurred into the clink of ice.“You look worse than the pictures,” a voice said behind him.Antonio lifted his head slowly. Teacher filled the doorway first, as always: calm, precise, like a shadow that arrives wearing a suit. Celeste came after, light on her feet, beautiful and dangerous. For a moment Antonio thought the drink had finally betrayed him, he blinked hard and the two of them were still there, real as teeth.“Teacher,” he said. His voice cracked. “I thought you were...”“Dead?” Teacher finished for him, smiling thinly. “You’re very fond of distributing wishes, Antonio. How thoughtful.”Celeste slid onto the stool beside him and ordered a drink without looking at the menu. “You look pathetic,” she said. “Why are you still in

The front door opened before Lisa could get to it. Antonio stood there like a man who’d rehearsed a smile for weeks and finally found an audience. He smelled faintly of whiskey and rain. Emerald was at the table doing homework. She looked up, surprised.“Hey, baby girl,” Antonio said, voice soft, trying for warmth. “How was school?”Emerald blinked. She had not been prepared for this gentle tone. “Fine,” she said, cautious. “We had math and art.”“What’s your favorite part?” he asked, leaning on the doorframe like a man who belonged.Emerald hesitated. “I like art,” she said slowly. “I like drawing houses.”Antonio’s face lit, like a small sun coming through gray clouds. “Houses? That’s good. You draw the kind of house with a garden or one with a big door?”“A big door,” she said, gaining confidence. “A purple door.”“You draw me a purple door and I’ll hang it on my wall,” Antonio said, and he sounded sincere. Emerald’s smile was small but real.Lisa watched from the sink, hands wrapp

Antonio stopped a few feet away, hands in his pockets. He looked cleaner than the last time he was outside with his hair combed, jacket buttoned, but his eyes were raw. He gave a crooked, tired smile.“You called me a liar,” Antonio said without preamble. “So why did you ask to meet me?”Xavier’s voice was flat, low. “I don’t waste my time on liars. You either have something true to say, or you’re here to make trouble.”Antonio’s laugh was humorless. “You don’t get to judge me after everything. You called me liar in your office, remember? You said I was there to manipulate, to set up a scene. Fine. You were right then. But now... now it’s not a game. I’m not performing. I’m warning you.”“Why?” Xavier cut in. “Why warn me? You told me last time that whatever happens to me is not your problem. Now you play guardian? What changed?”Antonio looked past him, toward a corner where a delivery truck idled. “My little girl, Emerald” he said simply. “She thinks the world of you. She calls you

“Don’t stand there and talk like you’re the victim, Xavier,” Antonio said finally, his tone sharp but not raised. “You think you were the only one who bled? You think you were the only one betrayed?”Xavier turned to face him, his eyes blazing. “Don’t start that nonsense with me. Every move I took against you was justified. You ruined me, Antonio. I was dragged through the mud. The trolls, the public disgrace, the mockery, you think I forgot?”Antonio tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into something between pity and amusement. “You think I set out to ruin you? Lisa made her choice, that's not on me."“Her Choice?” Xavier laughed bitterly. “Cheating on me with you is what you call choice? Not having the decency to come online and clear my name when I was being ridiculed online is what you call choice? You stood by and watched me crumble. Watched me lose everything, my job, my home, my dignity. Do you have any idea what it feels like to have everything stripped from you and the

Celeste’s head throbbed like she’d been hit with a hammer. The sharp pain pulsed behind her eyes, spreading through her skull until it felt as if her brain was trying to claw its way out. Her tongue was dry and heavy, her throat raw like she’d swallowed sandpaper. When she tried to move, a cold shock ran through her spine, and her wrists and ankles refused to cooperate.Her eyelids fluttered open to the soft gleam of a chandelier above. The ceiling wasn’t familiar, neither were the silk sheets beneath her or the faint smell of vanilla and disinfectant in the air. This wasn’t the resort she’d been in earlier. This wasn’t her suite.Panic crawled up her chest. She jerked against the restraints, her breath quickening. Then she heard a deep, almost amused voice from across the room.“Need some water?”Her eyes darted toward the sound. The man leaned casually against the wall near the minibar, the same male stripper from the night before. Only now, he was dressed differently with no gliste