1After they had had that conversation, Halle had insisted she wanted to go back to her own place. Zade, however, shut down the idea with a cold, finality that left no room for negotiation. Still, she wasn't entirely without a say—after pushing and bargaining, she was given a separate room in his luxury penthouse instead of being forced into his space.
Now, she sat on the edge of the impossibly soft bed, the thick mattress dipping under her weight, the silk sheets whispering against her palms. Her eyes were unfocused, her mind drifting—no, spiraling—back to the days she rarely allowed herself to revisit.
Her childhood.
She had never actually seen her father strike her mother, but she had heard it—those muffled, brutal sounds that haunted the walls at night. Those nights, her small hands would clutch her blanket so tight her fingers went numb. The bruises on her mom'sbody, when they appeared, were like silent proof of everything Halle wished she could unsee.
Her mother's eyes, always tired. Always apologizing for things that were never her fault.
Halle hated her father for it, hated him with a quiet, festering rage she never had the courage to show. She swallowed it instead, day after day, because she needed her education. Because she needed a roof over her head. Because she was a coward—at least, that's what she told herself now.
How had she let herself become so compliant? So easy to command? She hated herself for the weakness, for every time she had nodded in obedience just to survive.
Her head dropped back until it rested against the cool, smooth bedding, her back pressed to the mattress, feet planted on the floor. She stared up at the high, cream-painted ceiling, imagining what it would be like to finally challenge her father—to stand in the very domain he believed he owned and strip away his control in front of the people who had stolen what they never earned. Her step mother and sister.
They were living off a life paved by someone else's suffering, and her, watching from the shadows.
A slow, bitter smile curved her lips at the thought.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. For a fleeting moment, her heart jumped, expecting Zade, but when she opened it, the figure on the other side wasn't him.
A young woman stood there, dressed in a crisp uniform. Her eyes were soft, her hands occupied with a silver tray holding food and a tall bottle of water. Halle hadn't realized until now how hungry she was—the faint scent of warm bread and seasoned meat hit her like a wave, awakening a deep ache in her stomach.
"I was told to bring this to you, ma'am," the girl said politely.
Halle stepped aside, holding the door wider. "You can place it on the table over there."
The woman obeyed, setting the tray neatly on the polished wooden surface before offering a quick nod. Halle thanked her, and she quietly slipped out, leaving Halle alone with the smell of her dinner filling the air.
Hunger won instantly. She didn't hesitate, sliding into the chair and digging into the meal, each bite melting across her tongue, grounding her in the present for just a moment.
When she was finished, she decided to explore the space properly. The room was spacious and bathed in a warm glow from the golden sconces. A plush armchair stood in the corner beside floor-to-ceiling windows that revealed the glittering city skyline.
The bathroom was another world entirely—walls of veined marble, a wide vanity lined with expensive toiletries, and a shower that looked like it belonged in a luxury spa. Her eyes landed on a neatly folded bathrobe and a silky, pale champagne-colored nightdress placed at the edge of the counter.
Did they offer nightdresses here? She smirked slightly—maybe they did. Maybe it was just another one of Zade's ways of making sure she had no reason to leave.
She didn't linger on the thought. Instead, she decided to indulge in the comfort being handed to her.
She took a long bath, letting the warm water and steam loosen the knots in her body and wash away the heavy residue of her thoughts. When she stepped out, she dried herself and slipped into the nightdress, the silk clinging delicately to her skin.
The bed looked impossibly inviting when she returned. Sinking into it, she felt the mattress mold around her, the weight of exhaustion pulling her down. It didn't take long before her eyelids grew heavy, the room fading into darkness as sleep claimed her.
~~~
The endless buzzing of her phone tore through the quiet of the room, dragging Halle from the warm, cocooned comfort of sleep. With eyes barely open, she groaned and reached blindly toward the nightstand, fingers fumbling over the smooth surface until they closed around the cool glass of her phone.
The caller ID flashed Jessy's name in bold letters. Jessy—her partner-in-crime, the girl she'd met during their grueling college years, back when caffeine and late-night study sessions had been their lifeblood. Over the years, their friendship had solidified into something deeper, unshakable—a bond Halle could count on no matter how messy life became.
"Finally you've answered your phone.Jessy's voice came through the speaker, exasperated but warm. "Do you know how many times I've called?"
Halle pushed herself up against the pillows, her hair falling in messy waves over her face. It took her brain a moment to register the subtle, unfamiliar weight of the mattress beneath her and the scent lingering faintly in the air.
Her voice came out in a husky rasp. "Couldn't you have waited an hour or two? The sleep was—" she paused, letting out a tired sigh, "—the kind you don't want to crawl out of. You know how rare that is."
Jessy didn't even acknowledge the complaint. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't have called if it wasn't important."
That had Halle frowning, her fingers tightening around the phone. "Important as in 'I ran out of coffee' or important as in 'you'd better sit down for this'?"
"Important as in—you might want to check the news." Jessy's tone carried a sharp edge now, the kind that made Halle's stomach knot. "You're trending, Hal. And girl, you've got a lot of explaining to do."
The last remnants of sleep fell away instantly.