The knock came just as Troy lit his third cigarette by the open balcony doors, the bitter wind of midnight brushing against his skin like a punishment. He didn’t turn right away.
He already knew who it was.
“Did you punch Xander?” Nathan’s voice carried a quiet fury as he leaned against the doorframe, a half–empty bottle of bourbon dangling from his hand.
Troy didn’t answer. He turned, plucked the bottle from Nathan, and took a swig. He hated the stuff. But tonight, he needed the burn–something sharp enough to slice through the numbness weighing down his chest.
“She was with him,” Troy muttered, jaw tightening.
Nathan arched a brow. “You mean your ex–wife and her fiancé?”
The words cut deeper than the alcohol. Troy didn’t flinch but something inside him cracked.
“I couldn’t watch,” he whispered. “I couldn’t bear it.”
There was a long silence. Then Nathan chuckled darkly, but his eyes were ice. “You never touched her for two years straight. You didn’t even look at Thalia at your own wedding anniversary. And now, suddenly, she’s your everything?”
Troy stared at the bottle in his hand. “I don’t know when it happened,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But I can’t breathe without her. When she left, it was like everything started collapsing inside me.”
“I thought it was Bianca you couldn’t live without.”
“I thought so too,” he admitted. “But when Bianca showed up again, and Thalia was already gone… I didn’t feel anything. I kept chasing a ghost.”
He met Nathan’s gaze, eyes bloodshot. “I think I loved Thalia all along. I just realized too late.”
Nathan snorted, pushing off the doorframe. “Too late is putting it lightly.”
“I want to make things right,” Troy said, desperate now. “Help me. Please.”
Nathan stared at him for a moment that stretched too long. Then, finally: “We’ll see. After all, the decision will always be from my sister.”
He left without another word,/and Troy was left alone with the weight of his regret. He lay back on the bed, but rest wouldn’t come. The ceiling warped and twisted with the alcohol- until it no longer looked like plaster at all, but the blurred outline of Thalia and Xander’s silhouettes, her head resting on his shoulder.
He bolted upright, breath ragged–and then the smell hit him.
Smoke. Thick. Acrid. Real.
Shouts rang out from the hallway. “Fire! Everyone out!”
Troy staggered to his feet, dizzy and heavy. The bourbon… there was something wrong
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with it. His limbs didn’t move the way they should. Panic rose in his throat.
Nathan. That bastard–he’d drugged him.
Why? Was this revenge because he actually hurt his sister?
There was no time to think. Only one name tore through his haze: Thalia.
He shoved open the door. Smoke billowed in, scorching his lungs and stinging his eyes. The hallway was already in flames. The carpet curled and blackened under the heat. He coughed violently, vision spinning.
Through the flickering wall of fire, he saw her.
Thalia. Carrying Xander’s arm over her shoulder as they made their way toward the stairwell. Xander looked injured–barely conscious.
Troy’s heart slammed against his ribs. “Thalia!”
She turned. Just for a second.
Their eyes met. But there was nothing in her gaze.
No panic. No anger. No love. Just cold indifference, as if he were a stranger on the street.
She turned away.
“Thalia, wait!” He tried to run, but his knees buckled.
She didn’t look back.
The hem of her dress caught a lick of flame. Still, she kept moving–dragging Xander forward, step by agonizing step, toward safety.
Troy forced himself forward, crawling on all fours, lungs screaming. “Please…”
But the fire roared louder than his voice.
A sickening crack echoed above. He looked up. The wooden beam over his head groaned,
and then it fell.
Everything turned white–hot. As the world collapsed into smoke and flame, a memory slammed into him–the night of the kidnapping. When Thalia and Bianca had both been trapped, and the bomb was about to explode, he didn’t even hesitate to choose Bianca.
Was that how Thalia felt that day? Left behind. Forgotten. Expendable.
He opened his mouth to say her name again. But no sound came.
Only a single word made it past his lips as the darkness pulled him under: “Sorry…”
And the fire swallowed it whole.
Chapter 19
