Page 178 of House of Cards

“I’m giving you a new life. Most people would kill for the chance to start over.”

She gives another sour chuckle. “Yeah. Lucky me. All it cost was Ricky’s life.”

She collapses in on herself and starts sobbing.

Christ, how I have to fight not to go over and soothe her. To wrap her in my arms and tell her everything’s going to be okay.

But it’s not.

I know how awful false hope feels when it finally shatters.

I’ve already hurt her so deeply. I refuse to drive that knife any deeper, twist it any harder.

Zoey

I wake to silence. Which, in my limited experience, is perfectly on-brand for this crypt-like villa I’m being held captive in. But it’s different this morning. Not just quiet, but empty.

My door’s unlocked. That’s a first.

I move soundlessly through the villa, searching for Smith. Yesterday I felt dead. Today I want to break shit.

No longer a ghost, but a fucking poltergeist.

How fucking dare he?

Every unlocked room I check is empty. Perfectly preserved, like a museum of luxury living. By the time I’m done with both upstairs wings, I am hungry, thirsty, and enraged.

Smith’s not here anymore.

I find Troy in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee as black as his clothes, and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. When he sees me, his expression shifts to something between pity and exasperation.

“He left,” I state.

Troy doesn’t meet my eyes. “Had business at the casino.”

“Business.” The word tastes bitter. “Right.”

God, it shouldn’t hurt this much. We barely know each other. He’s a literal killer who almost strangled me two nights ago. But somehow he made me feel...wanted.

Like I mattered.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

I never mattered.

Not to him, not to fucking anyone.

“Zoey—”

“Don’t.” I hold up a hand, surprised by how steady my voice sounds when everything inside me is screaming. “Just don’t.”

I pour myself coffee with hands that barely shake, proud of this small victory. The first sip burns my tongue, but the pain feels good. Real. It’s something I can control when everything else is spinning.

Smith’s gone. After showing me exactly what kind of monster he is, baring his soul about Michelle, and then handing me a new identity like a consolation prize—he just…left.

No goodbye.

No explanation.