Swamp Murder

Swamp Murder. 68

Zhan's Pov.

"What are you doing tonight?" Ziyi asked, her voice casual but her eyes sharp, testing.

"Nothing," Ezra said easily.

"Good." Her smile curled, red lips catching the light. "We can go to the club. See what happens from there."

Dre hissed so loudly I thought the whole restaurant heard. He shot to his feet, but Wang's hand darted out, gripping his wrist, pulling him back down.

"Relax, Dre," Wang whispered, his voice steady but low. "Ezra will take care of it."

Dre clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring. Then, with another hiss, he snatched his drink and downed half the glass in one gulp.

At Ziyi's table, the talk continued.

"I like you," she said suddenly, smiling in a way that might have looked sweet if I didn't know what lived under her skin.

"Any ex-boyfriend I should be scared of?" Ezra asked, his tone just teasing enough.

For the first time, her smile faltered. She reached for her glass, drained it halfway before answering. "No. I'm... unlucky when it comes to relationships. There was one, back in high school. I was in love with him, but he hated me me because I was a bit mean to him."

Ezra's expression didn't flicker. He just swirled his wine lazily, his voice calm, teasing. "His loss. If I'd been in your high school, you wouldn't have had to chase anyone."

She laughed, almost girlish, like the sound belonged to someone else entirely. "Flattery."

"Truth," Ezra countered smoothly. "But maybe I'm just lucky to be here with you."

At our table, I felt Wang's body stiffen. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on Ziyi as if he could burn a hole through her with sheer will. His hand twitched on the table, curling into a fist before flattening again.

I reached over and laced my fingers through his, grounding him. "Easy," I whispered.

"We should go," he muttered, his voice rougher than I'd ever heard it.

Dre caught the look on Wang's face and rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't get stuck. "Oh, for fuck sake, he's playing her, Wang. Don't tell me you're jealous of that snake in a dress."

Wang didn't answer. He just squeezed my hand tighter, his knuckles white.

Across the room, Ziyi tilted her head, studying Ezra with new interest. "I like you," she said again, this time slower, more deliberate.

Ezra leaned in, his smile sly. "Tell me more."

Her lips curved. "Since we got here, you haven't touched your phone once. That's rare. Everyone's glued to their screens, but you, you're present."

Ezra let out a soft laugh. "That's because I don't have anyone worth talking to. No one who matters." he lied smoothly.

Ziyi's eyes glittered as she sipped her wine. "Good." The word was sharp, possessive. And I knew then that Ezra had her.

"Okay, we should go. I'm feeling irritated," Dre hissed, shoving his chair back.

Wang lifted a hand, calm but sharp, and the server was at our table in seconds. He slid his card across with barely a glance, his eyes fixed elsewhere, on the table where Ezra and Ziyi leaned close, their laughter clinking sharper than the wineglasses.

The bill was settled, and Wang rose smoothly, but his movements were stiff, controlled. Dre followed, muttering curses under his breath, and I trailed behind, the urge to smash Ziyi's smirk into the wall burning hot in my chest.