Treachery

Episode11

Harper'sPOV

The soft glow from London’s bedside lamp lit up half the room in amber warmth, casting long shadows across the floor scattered with shopping bags, crumpled receipts, and empty snack wrappers. We had spent the whole evening gushing over our purchases, swapping shoes, trying on dresses, and rating each other’s choices. It was the kind of evening that reminded me how much I missed this—just being a girl in her twenties with her best friend, no deadlines, no worries… and absolutely no idea how the world was about to shift around her.

But it already had, hadn’t it?

I was lying on my stomach, legs swinging lazily in the air, and my phone forgotten beside me. My mind had drifted more than once—okay, more like ten times—to the stranger from earlier. The one with the piercing stare, the irritated grunt, and that storm of quiet power around him like he didn’t belong in our colourful, carefree world.

London was next to me, polishing off the last of our sour candy, her dark curls tied into a pineapple puff, looking every bit like the goddess she was. She glanced at me, squinting. “You’ve been in space since we got back. What’s up?”

I shrugged too quickly. “Nothing. Just… tired.”

She raised a brow. “You’re never tired after shopping. That’s your cardio and therapy combined.”

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, heart doing that annoying flutter thing. “Okay, fine. Remember the guy I ran into earlier. Literally.”

“Ohhh?” Her voice stretched with interest as she dropped the candy bag and sat up, full focus now on me. “Do tell. Who? Where? And how cute are we talking?”

I covered my face with my hands and groaned. I knew she had forgotten, afterall she wasn't the one that was under his piercing gaze. He was just… intense. Like, he looked like he walked out of a mafia movie. Tall, sharp jawline, dark eyes that kind of made me feel like he could see through me, and a buddy with him that looked like he wrestled bears for a living.

“Outside the nail salon. I was talking to you, remember? Trying to pose for a picture, and then boom, bumped right into him. I apologized, but he looked so pissed.” I let out a breath. “But also… really good. And I don’t know why, but he was stuck in my head.”

London grinned like a cat who had just found a yarn of wool. “So… Harper Hardy is finally seeing a man as more than a plotline in her romance books. What’s the world coming to?”

“Oh, shut up.” I threw a pillow at her.

“No, seriously. That’s cute. You’ve been single all through college, turning down every decent guy that tried, and now—bam—you’re getting butterflies over a mafia-looking stranger.” She leaned in, wiggling her eyebrows trying to tease me.

I sighed, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I didn’t even get his name, and I'm here drooling over him. But he had this energy. Like he didn’t belong anywhere normal. It was… strange. And kind of exciting.”

London tilted her head. “Maybe he’s the one to pull you out of your safe little bubble. You’re graduating soon. Maybe it’s time to take a chance. Who knows? He could be your first love. Or your last.”

I looked at her, my smile softening. “You really think that?”

“I think you believe in love so much that it’s about time you let yourself feel it, too. If this guy”—she smirked—“makes your heart skip even a beat, maybe that’s worth exploring.”

"That's if our paths ever cross, but for now, he can live rent-free in my head." I grinned widely.

We talked for another hour about everything and nothing—boys, dreams, what outfits we’d wear to our graduation dinner. Eventually, we both drifted off, wrapped in blankets and sleep, the kind that only comes after a day filled with laughter and the whisper of something new.

—

When I got home the next morning, the house felt fuller again. My parents had returned from their weekend getaway, and the sound of jazz from the kitchen meant Mom was in her Sunday cleaning mood. Dad was on the porch, sipping his coffee, gazing out at the street like he always did when he needed to think.

“Morning,” I said, stepping out onto the porch barefoot, mug of my own in hand.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Dad looked over and smiled, patting the space beside him on the bench. “You sleep well at London’s?”

“Yeah. It was fun. We did girl stuff. Talked. Ate too much.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like a good time.”

I hesitated, then sat beside him. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“I met someone yesterday. Well, not met-met. I bumped into him. Literally. I don’t even know his name at all. He seemed… important. Serious. Like he was in a rush, but—” I chewed my bottom lip. “There was something about him. I can’t get him out of my head.”

Dad went quiet, nodding slowly. “What did he look like?”

I described him as best as I could, trying to downplay the way my stomach twisted when I thought about that brief glance we shared.

“And you don’t know anything else? No first or last name?”

“No. But I figured I’d tell you, because… I don’t know. You always said to trust my instincts, and part of me feels like I should be cautious, but another part of me…”

“Wants to know more,” he finished for me.

I nodded.

Dad leaned back, his fingers tapping his coffee cup. “You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders, Harp. If this guy is someone important—or dangerous—you did the right thing telling me. I’ll keep an eye out. Quietly. See if anything comes up.”

My chest lightened just hearing him say that. “Thanks, Dad.”

“But be careful,” he added, looking at me with those serious eyes I knew so well. “Curiosity is okay, even natural. But don’t get swept up in something you can’t step out of. Not everyone with a strong jaw and expensive shoes has good intentions.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder, grateful. “I know. I just… I’ve never felt anything from just a look before.”

“That’s how it starts,” he murmured. “Just keep me updated, okay?”

“Okay.”

As we sat there in silence, sipping our coffee

, I realized something that made my heart flutter and my stomach twist all at once.