Swamp Murder

Swamp Murder. 22

Wang's Pov.

I leaned back in my seat, staring at the empty glasses on the table. The club was nearly silent now, the bass from the speakers nothing more than a faint hum in the background.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. Why did I apologize?

The way Zhan had looked at me, hurt but pretending not to be, made my chest tighten. I wanted to take the words back, to tell him I didn't mean it, that I wanted him. But instead, I watched him walk away.

And now, he was gone. With them.

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening around the glass in my hand. I had no right to stop him. No claim over him.

But damn it, I wanted to.

I clenched my fists, watching him disappear through the club doors.

I had no right to stop him. No right to pull him back after pushing him away.

But the thought of him with them, with Dre and his ex-boyfriend made my stomach twist in a way I didn't want to acknowledge.

The VIP section was silent now, the air thick with smoke and the lingering scent of spilled liquor. I leaned back, running a hand over my face.

I should leave. Go home. Forget about him.

But I already knew—I wouldn't.

I couldn't take it anymore.

The thought of Zhan with them burned in my chest like a fire I couldn't put out. I didn't know what I would do, what I would say—but before I could stop myself, I was already in the car, telling my driver where to go.

When I arrived at his house, the night was completely still. The soft glow of a streetlamp cast long shadows across the pavement. I hesitated for a moment, staring at the door, then slowly let myself in.

The house was dark and quiet. Everyone was asleep.

I didn't want to wake anyone, so I moved carefully, stepping into the living room. The familiar scent of home-cooked food still lingered in the air. I found the couch and sank onto it, resting my elbows on my knees, and exhaling a shaky breath.

What am I doing here?

I didn't know.

All I knew was that I needed to see him.

I leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts a mess. The house was quiet, the kind of silence that made my heartbeat sound too loud in my ears.

I didn't know how long I sat there before I heard soft footsteps.

"Wang?"

I turned my head and saw Ji Li standing in the dim light, his hair slightly messy like he had just woken up. He looked at me, confused, his voice groggy.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, crossing his arms.

I opened my mouth, but the truth felt too heavy, too complicated. Instead, I forced a small smirk.

"I lost my keys," I lied. "Didn't know where else to go."

Ji Li frowned, clearly not believing me, but he didn't push. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "You could've just gone to a hotel."

"Yeah," I muttered, looking away. "Didn't feel like it."

For a moment, he just stood there, watching me. I could tell he was debating whether to say something, to question me further. But then he just exhaled and shook his head.