ZARIAH POV
"Dr. Lovelace, your fiancé is texting someone again."
I looked up from my microscope to find my lab assistant, Maya, staring at me with pity in her eyes. Through the glass window of the conference room, I could see Thorne hunched over his phone, smiling at the screen.
That smile used to be mine.
"I'm sure it's work," I lied, turning back to the blood sample in front of me.
Three months. Three months of pretending I didn't know. Three months of watching him text Seraphine during dinner. Three months of sleeping on the far edge of our bed while he whispered into his phone in the bathroom.
Three months of being pathetic.
"Zariah." Maya's voice dropped low. "Everyone knows. You don't have to—"
"The Crimson Fever samples need analysis by noon." I cut her off, my hands steady even though my heart was breaking. "Can you handle that?"
She left without another word.
I pressed my forehead against the cool metal of the microscope. The black spots in the blood sample swirled like tiny monsters. Patient 47's cure had worked perfectly three months ago. But now, new cases were showing different symptoms. Faster infection. Higher aggression.
The virus was mutating.
And I couldn't focus because my fiancé was probably telling my stepsister he loved her.
My phone buzzed. A text from Thorne: Company dinner tonight. 7pm. Wear something nice. Important clients.
I typed back: Okay.
What I wanted to type: Is she coming too?
But I already knew the answer.
The restaurant was too fancy, with crystal glasses and cloth napkins that probably cost more than my weekly groceries. I sat beside Thorne, watching him charm the investors with his golden smile and easy laugh.
He was good at this. At pretending.
"And this is my assistant, Seraphine." Thorne gestured to my stepsister, who appeared at his elbow like magic.
She looked beautiful in a black dress that hugged her perfectly. Her doe eyes sparkled as she shook hands with the investors.
"Seraphine handles all my... personal affairs," Thorne said, his voice doing something weird on the word "personal."
My stepsister's hand lingered on his arm. Their eyes met.
And everyone at this table could see it.
Everyone except me, apparently. Because I just sat there, smiling like a robot.
"Your fiancée is the scientist, right?" One of the investors turned to me. "The one working on the Crimson Fever cure?"
"Yes." I forced my voice to sound normal. "We're making progress."
"Fascinating work," he continued. "My daughter is—"
"Excuse me." I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. "I need to use the restroom."
I walked—didn't run, because I still had that much dignity—to the bathroom. Locked myself in a stall. And finally let myself cry.
Soft, quiet sobs that I muffled with my hand.
The bathroom door opened. Voices drifted in.
"Did you see the way Thorne looks at that girl? The assistant?"
"Everyone knows they're sleeping together. I don't know why his fiancée stays."
"She's pathetic. If my man cheated, I'd burn his stuff and move on."
"Some women have no self-respect."
Their laughter echoed off the tiles as they left.
I stared at my reflection in the stall door's metal surface. Blurry and distorted. Just like my life.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'd confront him. Tomorrow I'd demand the truth. Tomorrow I'd finally stop being pathetic.
I washed my face and went back to the table.
Seraphine was feeding Thorne a piece of cake. His mouth closed around her fork. She giggled.
And I sat down and finished my dinner.
The news alert woke me at 2 AM.
BREAKING: CRIMSON FEVER OUTBREAK REACHES CRISIS LEVEL. 47 NEW CASES IN 24 HOURS. VICTIMS SHOWING EXTREME AGGRESSION AND VIOLENCE.
My hands shook as I scrolled through the details. The new strain was spreading faster than anything we'd seen. Victims were attacking medical staff. Biting them.
My phone rang. Dr. Chen, my supervisor.
"Zariah, we need you at the lab. Now. Genesis BioTech is moving up the press conference. Tomorrow at noon. They want to announce the cure."
"But we're not ready! The new strain—"
"They don't care. The CEO wants his moment." Dr. Chen's voice was grim. "Get here. We're doing final tests on the treatment tonight."
I threw on clothes and grabbed my keys. Beside me, Thorne didn't even stir. His phone glowed with a text: Miss you already. —S
Tomorrow. I'd deal with him tomorrow.
Right now, people were dying.
I drove through empty streets toward the lab, my headlights cutting through the dark. The city felt wrong. Too quiet. Like it was holding its breath.
Another alert flashed across my car's screen.
PATIENT ZERO IDENTIFIED AT GENESIS BIOTECH TRIAL FACILITY. CONDITION: CRITICAL.
Patient Zero.
The first person infected with the new strain.
My blood turned to ice.
Patient Zero was at our facility. At our press conference tomorrow.
And if the treatment didn't work on the new strain...
Thunder cracked overhead. Rain started falling, hard and sudden, like the sky itself was crying.
I pressed harder on the gas.
Because tomorrow wasn't just about confronting Thorne anymore.
Tomorrow, everything was going to change.
And I had no idea that by tomorrow night, I'd be fighting for my life.
Or that the man I trusted would be the one who pushed me toward death.