"Vivian Hale, if I could do it all over again, I would…"Daniel Cross never finished that sentence. A burning, ripping pain tore through his chest and swallowed every word he had left.He looked down. A blood-soaked fruit knife stuck out of his chest, and the handle was still gripped tight in his ex-wife's fist.In the last second before his vision went black, he searched Vivian's face for something. Guilt. Regret. Anything. But all he found was cruel mockery, like she was watching a cockroach twitch under her shoe."Daniel, have a safe trip."Gavin Rourke stood right behind her, one arm hooked around Vivian's waist, the other hand running shamelessly across her body. His grin was crooked and rotten."Thanks for taking care of us these past six months, buddy. Vivian and I were about to starve out here. Your only real purpose was to be our backup food supply."Backup food.Daniel finally understood. He had been set up from the beginning. He had treated Vivian like a goddess and Gavin l

Daniel pushed through the lobby doors of Summit Ridge Towers and stepped into the morning sun. It was warm, ordinary, and completely at odds with the storm raging inside his head.The neighborhood was alive with routine. Kids in school uniforms laughed and chased each other toward the bus stop. Old couples shuffled along the sidewalks pushing strollers. Women with grocery bags leaned against fences and argued about last night's reality show.None of them had the slightest clue that in thirty days, every one of their lives would be ripped apart. Daniel watched them and felt nothing.If he had not already lived through the apocalypse and died in it, he would be exactly like them right now. Heading to Halvorsen Group like a dog on a leash, running errands for Vivian Hale, completely oblivious to the blade waiting for his chest.He had tried to warn people in his previous life. Nobody listened. Worse, they called him crazy. He had learned the hardest lesson a human being could learn: with

"Sir, I'm being serious." Daniel tried one more time. "Better safe than sorry. There's no downside to stocking up."The old man shook his head, let out a long, disappointed sigh, and looked at Daniel the way a teacher looks at a student who just failed the easiest question on the test."Son, you look like a decent young man. Why are you out here talking crazy? What a waste."He clasped his hands behind his back and walked away without looking back, every step radiating the kind of righteous pity that only old men who think they know everything can produce.Daniel stood there, caught somewhere between laughing and wanting to punch the shelf next to him.He had offered a genuine warning, a real chance, and the man looked at him like he was a stray dog foaming at the mouth."See? This is exactly why I don't bother." He muttered it to himself, barely moving his lips. "Even if I gave them a detailed timeline of the apocalypse, they'd ship me off to a psych ward."The shoppers nearby had ov

The second Daniel disappeared down the hallway toward the restroom, the masks came off. Gavin grabbed Vivian's wrist under the table and pulled her close, his voice dropping to a hiss that barely carried past the edge of their plates."We're losing him. You saw his face. He didn't even react when you touched his hand. A month ago, that would have had him stuttering like a lovesick puppy. Something changed."Vivian yanked her wrist free and rubbed it, her lips pressed thin. "I know something changed. I'm not blind, Gavin. He barely looked at me the whole dinner. He used to stare at me like I was the only woman on the planet.""Then you need to give him more. A lot more." Gavin's eyes were hard and calculating, the kind of look a man gets when he is watching money walk out the door. "You need to make him think he has a real chance with you. Not someday. Not maybe. Now."Vivian stared at him, her jaw tightening. "You want me to lead him on? Like actually pretend to be a loving wife?""I

Gavin's face went through about six different colors in three seconds. His ears burned so hot they could have lit a match. The words "tall gentleman" echoed in his skull, because Gavin Rourke was five foot seven and had spent his entire adult life pretending he was five foot nine."I'm not paying this. This is a scam. Call your manager." Gavin slapped the receipt back on the counter, his voice loud enough to make two nearby tables turn around."Did you just call my restaurant a scam?"The voice came from behind the kitchen doors. It was deep and flat and carried the kind of quiet authority that made the air in the room get heavier.A man stepped out. He was built like a refrigerator. Bald head polished to a shine. Tattoos crawled up both arms from wrist to shoulder, a mix of skulls, snakes, and words in a language Gavin could not read and did not want to learn. His neck was thicker than Gavin's thigh, and his eyes had the calm, patient look of a man who had heard every excuse in the b