NIKO.
Jealousy was an ugly thing.
I had always prided myself on being controlled and rational—someone who thought before acting. But jealousy didn’t ask permission. It slipped under the skin, settled in the chest, and twisted logic until everything felt personal, even things that weren’t.
Alex had misunderstood me, or maybe I had misunderstood her. Either way, the result was the same: distance.
I stood by the window of my study, staring out into the quiet stretch of the compound, my hands buried deep in my pockets. The night was calm, too calm for the chaos in my head. I replayed the last conversation with Alex again and again, dissecting every word, every pause, every look on her face.
I should have talked to her. I knew that. But instead of confronting the confusion head-on, I chos
