DREADING ON DANGEROUS PATHS

Chapter 0013

DREADING ON DANGEROUS PATHS.

RYAN,

After the disaster at my house, I hadn’t seen Elena. Days passed, but the rumors didn’t. The entire school was talking about us—about the way I had stood up for her, about the scandal that now clung to her name like a stain no one would let her wash away.

I didn’t care what people said about me. They could whisper in the hallways, point fingers, smirk when I walked past. It meant nothing. But Elena? That was different.

The school authorities had been oddly silent about the situation, which made me restless. I expected some sort of action—a meeting, a suspension, some kind of consequence—but there was nothing. The silence unnerved me because it felt like the calm before a storm.

And then there was Emily.

My fiancée. The woman I was supposed to love. The one my parents had chosen for me. She and her parents had made it clear that they wouldn’t stop until I fell in line. They wanted to force us together, to make things work, but I didn’t want her. Not the way they wanted me to.

Not the way I wanted Elena.

I hated Emily for what she had done—for throwing Elena into the fire, for exposing something that should have remained between us. But more than that, I hated myself for allowing it to happen.

Elena had risked everything.

And now, she might lose everything.

That thought sat like a weight on my chest, suffocating me with every passing day. I couldn’t shake her from my mind. The last time I was with her, everything had felt too intense, too raw. It was like I had been teetering on the edge of something dark and uncontrollable—something I knew I shouldn’t want but couldn’t resist.

And I still wanted it.

Even now, with everything spiraling out of control, I wanted her.

Maybe that was the worst part of it all.

My father summoned me home. Even though I didn't want to go, I had too. I had no choice.

The moment I stepped through the front door, I regretted it. The house felt suffocating, the walls pressing in on me as if they knew exactly what was coming.

The disappointment hit me first. It always did.

My father stood in the middle of the room, his broad shoulders stiff with barely contained fury. His face was red, his jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crack under the pressure. My mother stood beside him, ever the composed one, arms crossed over her chest, her expression cool but unreadable.

I didn’t get the chance to sit before it started.

"You know what’s at stake—the family business, you idiot!" My father’s voice boomed through the room, shaking the air with the weight of his anger. "Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve done?"

I stayed silent. There was no point in arguing.

"How dare you even think of hurting her?" His pacing was sharp, agitated, his shoes clicking against the marble floor with every step. "Emily is the future. She’s your future. Do you understand that?"

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

"Fix it. Whatever it is," he continued, his tone sharper than before. "Apologize. Take her out. Remind her why she agreed to this in the first place."

I could feel my mother’s gaze on me, watching, waiting for me to obey.

I wanted to scream. To tell them that none of this felt right. That I couldn’t force myself into a life I didn’t want.

Instead, I let out a deep, resigned sigh and ran a hand through my hair.

They had already made up their minds.

I was a Sinclair.

And Sinclairs didn’t choose their own fate.

I left home knowing exactly what they expected me to do. I was supposed to go to Emily’s place, say all the right words, pretend like she was the only thing that mattered.

But my body had other plans.

Somewhere between my father’s demands and my mother’s disapproving silence, I found myself gripping the wheel, my hands tightening as I drove in the opposite direction.

I didn’t even think about it.

One minute, I was on the road and the next, I was parked in front of Elena’s house.

The street was quiet. The sky above was a deep shade of blue, the moon barely visible behind a cluster of clouds. I turned off the engine, staring at her front door, my pulse thudding in my ears.

I had no plan.

No excuse.

No reason to be here except for the undeniable pull in my chest that refused to let me go.

But I hesitated.

What the hell was I doing?

What did I expect would happen if I knocked on that door?

Would she let me in? Would she even want to see me? Or had I already destroyed everything beyond repair?

Doubt clawed at my chest, my grip tightening on the wheel as I fought against the urge to leave.

Then, just as I was about to start the car, another vehicle pulled into the driveway.

My entire body went still.

The driver’s side door opened, and a man stepped out.

I frowned, my muscles tensing as I studied him.

He was tall, dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, his movements casual—too casual. He walked toward the house like he had been here a hundred times before, like he belonged.

Something twisted in my gut.

Was he a friend? A business associate?

Or something else entirely?

I told myself it didn’t matter.

I had no claim to her.

No right to feel anything about who came and went from her life.

And yet, as I sat there, watching from a distance, something dark curled in my chest.

Minutes passed before the front door opened.

But it wasn’t Elena who stepped outside.

It was her husband.

My breath caught in my throat, my fists clenching as I watched them interact.

They exchanged words, their conversation too quiet for me to hear. Then, to my surprise, Elena’s husband reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash, handing it over to the man.

A transaction.

My eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling at the back of my mind.

Something about the exchange didn’t sit right.

It was too practiced, too seamless.

The man didn’t even count the money before sliding it into his pocket and walking away, his strides slow, unrushed, as if he had no fear of being seen.

My jaw tightened.

What the hell was going on?

I leaned back in my seat, exhaling slowly as I tried to piece it together.

I knew I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but the uneasy feeling growing inside me wouldn’t go away.

Was Elena’s husband doing something illegal?

Or was it something worse?

I wanted to believe it was nothing. That it was just business, something normal. But deep down, I knew better.

And worse than that—I knew I wasn’t just concerned.

I was jealous.

That realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

I had no reason to be.

Elena was married. She wasn’t mine.

And yet, watching her husband interact with another man like that, seeing that exchange, it made my chest tighten with something I didn’t want to name.

I wasn’t supposed to care this much.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration simmering beneath my skin, making me restless.

I should leave.

That was the logical choice.

And yet, I stayed.

Even after the man got into his car and drove away.

Even after Elena’s husband went back inside.

I stayed.

I sat there in silence, staring at the house, my heart heavy with questions I wasn’t sure I wanted answers to.

But the biggest question of all—the one that had been haunting me since the moment I met her—was this:

What the hell was I doing?

And why couldn’t I stop?