VICTIM OF LOVE

Marcus

The night air was thick with the promise of rain, a tension hanging in the sky that mirrored the tightness in my chest. As I stood in front of Elena's townhouse, a cold unease gnawed at my insides. My mind raced—part of me was terrified, the other part resolute, desperate to find some way to repair the damage I had caused.

I had made the mistake of thinking she would come back. That somehow, after everything I had done, she would soften and understand. But Elena had shown me, with unflinching clarity, that she was no longer the woman I had once known. She was sharper, colder—and now, she was a force I couldn't control.

I knocked once, twice, the sound of my fist against her door reverberating in the quiet street. The seconds that passed felt like hours. No answer. My heartbeat quickened, frustration building like an unstoppable tide. I wasn't sure what I had expected, but I had to try.

Before I could knock again, the door swung open. Elena stood there, her posture straight and unyielding, the soft light from inside casting a warm glow on her figure. Her hair was swept up into a messy bun, her face devoid of makeup, but she was still stunning. In that moment, she looked every bit the woman I had once fallen hopelessly in love with.

But there was nothing in her eyes that mirrored the warmth I had known.

"What are you doing here, Marcus?" she asked, her voice laced with both weariness and something else. It could have been contempt, but I wasn't sure. Either way, it cut through me like a razor.

"I need to talk to you," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, my emotions in check.

She arched an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. "Talk? After everything you've done, now you want to talk?"

I flinched, but I refused to let her see how much her words hurt. "I deserve that," I said quietly, swallowing the lump in my throat. "But this isn't about what happened. It's about what's happening now."

She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing. "What's happening now? You want to act like the past doesn't matter? Like the lies, the betrayal, the way you left me don't count for anything?"

I took a step forward, but she didn't flinch. If anything, she stood even taller, her defiance almost palpable. "I can't change what I did, Elena. But I need you to listen to me. There's something bigger happening here, something that goes beyond us. Beyond the past."

She scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "And now you want to make it about business? That's rich, Marcus. You think you can just sweep everything under the rug and act like nothing happened?"

I could feel the storm swirling inside me, threatening to break free. "No. I don't. But I'm telling you—this isn't just about us anymore. Elena, you're in danger."

Her expression faltered for a fraction of a second, and I saw something shift in her eyes. Was it doubt? Fear?

"What do you mean, 'in danger'?" she asked, her tone a little less sharp but still guarded.

"There are people who want to use you. And not just for the information you've uncovered," I said, stepping even closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear. "They're willing to go to any lengths to get what they want. And you've already made yourself a target."

Elena's eyes locked onto mine, searching for sincerity. I saw the flicker of uncertainty there, the same uncertainty that had once made her trust me. But I couldn't tell if it was enough to break through her walls.

"You think I don't know that?" she said softly. "I've been playing this game longer than you, Marcus. I know exactly what I'm up against. But you don't get to come here, after everything, and pretend like you have the answers. You're the reason I'm in this mess in the first place."

The weight of her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I had always thought I could fix things with her—always thought I could make everything right. But in that moment, I realized how naive I had been.

"I never meant to hurt you," I whispered, my voice thick with regret. "You have to believe me, Elena."

For a long moment, she didn't speak. Her gaze was steady, unwavering, but I could see the conflict behind her eyes. She was torn, and I was running out of time to make her understand.

"You don't get to just show up, Marcus," she said finally, her voice quiet but resolute. "You don't get to pretend like this is all about some grand plan to save me. You left me. You left us. And now you're here, trying to rewrite the story, trying to make me believe that you care."

Her words stung, but I knew they were true.

"I'm sorry," I said again, my voice thick with emotion. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I'm not here for redemption. I'm here because I need you to trust me—for once, just once, trust me. We're both playing the same game now, and if you don't listen, if you don't work with me, you could lose everything. Including yourself."

She stared at me for what felt like an eternity, the silence between us heavy and suffocating. Then, finally, she stepped aside and gestured for me to come in.

I hesitated. "Elena…"

"Come in, Marcus," she said, her voice low but with a bite to it. "You've already done enough damage. The least you can do is finish what you started."

I walked past her, the air thick with unspoken words. The tension between us was unbearable, and every step I took felt like I was walking on a knife's edge. But I couldn't stop. I had no choice now.

As I sat down across from her at the small kitchen table, I felt the weight of everything pressing down on me. I had crossed a line I couldn't uncross, and now I had to live with the consequences.

"I know I'm not the man you want me to be," I said, my voice quiet, almost pleading. "But I'm asking you to trust me—just for this. Just for this one thing."

She sat down opposite me, folding her arms again as she studied me with suspicion. "And why would I trust you now, Marcus? After everything? What's changed?"

I leaned forward, my hands gripping the edge of the table. "You're right. Nothing's changed. But I have. I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm asking for your help."

"Help?" she scoffed. "You want my help now? After everything?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "I do. Because if you don't help me—if we don't work together—we're both going to lose. And I'm not willing to let that happen."

She stared at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine, looking for any sign of deception. For any trace of the man who had betrayed her. And I knew she'd find nothing. Nothing but the raw desperation I was trying so hard to hide.

"Fine," she said finally, her voice low but filled with a dangerous edge. "But if you think for one second that I'm doing this for you, Marcus, you're wrong. I'm doing this for me. For the people I care about. For the truth."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. It wasn't a victory, but it was a start. We weren't friends. We weren't even allies yet. But for the first time in years, Elena and I were standing on the same side of something. And that gave me a glimmer of hope.

But just as I began to feel a sense of relief, a phone buzzed on the table, breaking the fragile silence between us. Elena glanced down at it, her face instantly hardening.

She reached for it, glancing at the screen, and her expression darkened even further. I watched as her fingers tightened around the phone, her knuckles turning white.

"What is it?" I asked, already sensing the shift in the air.

"It's from my source," she said quietly. "It's happening sooner than we thought. They've set a meeting."

I felt the tension in the room spike, my pulse quickening. "A meeting?"

"Elena," I said, my voice rising with urgency, "what's going on? Who are you meeting?"

She didn't answer right away, her eyes scanning the message with a mixture of anger and resolve. Finally, she met my gaze, her expression grim.

"It's the one thing you never saw coming, Marcus," she said, her voice cold, with the kind of certainty that made my blood run cold. "It's not just about the business anymore. It's personal."