TORN BETWEEN TWO WORLDS
987 Words
Eve barely remembered the drive home. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as her mind replayed the events of the previous night over and over. Xander’s touch, his voice, the way he had made her body come alive in ways she never thought possible—it all haunted her.
But so did the four missed calls from Jonathan.
By the time she pulled into the long driveway of their grand estate, her stomach was in knots. The house loomed before her, a cold and empty place that had never truly felt like home. She stepped out of the car, her heels clicking against the pavement, her pulse quickening as she approached the door.
The second she stepped inside, she was greeted by the chilling silence of the house.
Then—
“You’re late.”
Eve froze, her heart slamming against her ribs as Jonathan’s voice sliced through the air. She turned slowly to find him standing near the fireplace in their lavish living room, a glass of scotch in hand, his sharp eyes locked onto her.
He was still in the same suit he had worn the night before, but the loosened tie and the shadows under his eyes told her he had been waiting.
A slow dread curled in her stomach.
“I had a late meeting,” she lied, keeping her voice steady as she set her purse down on the table. “I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”
Jonathan let out a short, humorless laugh, taking a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down with a sharp clink. “A meeting? Really, Eve?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“Where?”
Eve hesitated, her throat tightening. Jonathan was a businessman, a strategist. He knew how to sniff out a lie before it even fully left her lips.
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “It was at a private estate. An investor’s house.”
Jonathan took a step closer, his expression unreadable. “Whose?”
Her palms grew clammy. “It doesn’t matter—”
Jonathan’s hand shot out, grabbing her chin firmly and tilting her face up to his. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was enough to send a chill down her spine.
“Don’t lie to me, Eve,” he said, his voice dangerously low.
Her pulse pounded, her body rigid beneath his hold. He had never been physically violent with her, but there was always an underlying tension, a sharp edge to him that made her wary.
She pulled away from his grasp, lifting her chin. “You don’t get to question me like this, Jonathan. Not when you spend nights away without so much as a phone call.”
His expression darkened. “I don’t question you, because I expect you to know your place.”
Her stomach twisted. Know your place. The words rattled inside her like a cruel reminder of the cage she had been living in.
Jonathan sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back. “You’re my wife, Eve. You shouldn’t be out all night like some reckless debutante. It’s not a good look—for either of us.”
Eve clenched her fists at her sides, the weight of his words suffocating her. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that she was more than just his wife, more than just a polished accessory in his perfect world.
But instead, she turned away.
“I’m tired,” she murmured, heading toward the staircase. “I’m going to bed.”
Jonathan didn’t stop her. But as she climbed the steps, she could still feel his gaze burning into her back, heavy with suspicion.
---
Hours Later
Eve barely slept. She tossed and turned, her body still aching from Xander’s touch, her mind a battlefield of emotions. When morning came, she forced herself to get up, throwing on a silk robe as she made her way downstairs.
She wasn’t surprised to find Jonathan already gone. He had left a note on the counter—Breakfast meeting. Be back late.
The relief she felt was almost instant.
She made herself a cup of coffee and settled at the kitchen island, trying to push last night’s memories out of her head. But as she took her first sip, her phone buzzed.
A message.
Xander Vale: Did you sleep well, beautiful?
Her breath caught in her throat. Just seeing his name on the screen sent a rush of heat through her.
Eve hesitated for only a moment before replying.
Eve: Not really. Too much on my mind.
His response was almost immediate.
Xander: Regret?
She stared at the message, her fingers tightening around the phone. Did she regret it? The logical part of her screamed yes, but the part of her that had been starving for something real, something alive, whispered no.
Eve: I don’t know.
Xander: Then let me help you decide.
A chill of anticipation rolled down her spine.
Eve: Xander, I—
Before she could finish, another call came through. Not from Xander.
From an unknown number.
She hesitated before answering. “Hello?”
A deep, raspy voice crackled through the speaker. “Mrs. Sinclair.”
She stiffened. “Who is this?”
There was a pause. Then—
“You should be careful where you go at night. Some places are dangerous. Some men… are dangerous.”
Eve’s breath hitched. A wave of cold fear washed over her. “Who are you?”
Silence.
Then the line went dead.
Her hand trembled as she slowly set the phone down.
Her affair with Xander had already awakened something inside of her. But now, it seemed it had also awakened something else—something dark and watching.
She wasn’t just caught between two men.
She was caught in a dangerous game.
And she had no idea who was playing it with her.
- Writer
