The bar was dim, warm, and loud enough to drown out thoughts — just the way Alexander needed it.
He sat in the private booth at the back, head tipped against the wall, a half-empty glass in front of him. He didn't drink often. He didn't allow himself to. Control was his armor.
But tonight, control was slipping.
Across from him sat Evan, one of the very few people who knew the truth about his past — and the only one who still dared to call himself Alexander's friend.
"You're drinking fast," Evan muttered, watching him refill his glass. "That's not a good sign."
Alexander ignored him and took another slow swallow.
Evan leaned forward. "Talk. You didn't drag me here for the atmosphere."
Alexander let out a hollow laugh. "I messed up."
"That's new," Evan joked. But one look at Alexander's face made the smile fade. "What happened?"
Alexander pressed his fingers to his temples. "The past caught up. The gang— they're closer than I thought."
Evan stiffened. "How close?"
"They contacted me directly. And worse…" He swallowed hard. "Someone in the company overheard me explaining things to Cynthia."
Evan blinked. "Cynthia? The assistant you keep pretending you don't care about?"
Alexander glared. "I don't—"
"Alex," Evan cut in, "you showed up to a bar before 9 p.m. That tells me you care."
Alexander didn't respond.
Instead, he stared down at the amber liquid in his glass, the way it trembled slightly in his hand.
"I told her too much," he whispered. "And now she's in danger because of me."
Evan leaned back, exhaling. "You always said you'd never let anyone get pulled into your past. Yet here we are."
Alexander's jaw tightened. "This wasn't supposed to happen. Cynthia was just—she was just supposed to be an employee. Someone far away from this madness."
"But she isn't far anymore, is she?" Evan said gently.
Alexander closed his eyes.
Images flashed through his mind — Cynthia's wide, stubborn eyes… her fear that she tried to hide… the way she'd stood in his office even when he warned her to leave.
He slammed the drink down, frustrated.
Evan raised an eyebrow. "And Cynthia matters?"
Alexander opened his mouth — but the truth was already written all over him. In the tension in his shoulders. In the guilty fear in his eyes.
Evan sighed. "Alex… you can't protect her alone."
"I have to," Alexander said sharply.
"Why? Why risk everything for one girl?"
Alexander stared at the table, voice dropping to a quiet confession — the kind only a drunk man would allow to slip out.
Evan's expression softened.
"And because of that I should let her go right?"
"Yes!" Evan said
The booth fell silent.
Outside, the bar buzzed with laughter and music — but inside, it felt like the world had narrowed into a tight, suffocating space.
Evan finally spoke. "Then you'd better figure out who overheard you. And fast."
Alexander nodded slowly.
Because if the wrong person had heard…
Cynthia wasn't the only one in danger.
Everyone was.