Chapter 3

A few days later, a thick, cream-colored envelope arrived at my office. It had Liam' s messy scrawl on it. I didn't need to open it to know what it was. It was an invitation.

I slit it open anyway. Inside, nestled in gold-embossed cardstock, was a smaller, handwritten note.

Ethan, I know things are weird right now, but you' re my oldest friend. It would mean the world to me if you' d be my best man. Let' s not let Chloe come between us. - L.

The sheer audacity of it was breathtaking. He wasn't just twisting the knife, he was putting it on display for everyone to see. He wanted me there, front and center, to witness his triumph. To stand beside him as he married the woman who had been my fiancée a week ago.

I dropped the invitation into the trash can next to my desk and went back to work.

My phone buzzed incessantly for the next two days. Chloe. Liam. Chloe again. I ignored them all. I poured all my energy into my company, finalizing a new software deal with the city's largest hospital network. It was a project I was passionate about, one that would streamline patient data and improve care.

On Thursday, I had a meeting at that same hospital. As I walked through the main lobby, discussing implementation timelines with my lead engineer, I saw them.

Chloe and Liam were standing near the oncology department reception desk. Liam looked pale, thinner than I remembered. Chloe had her arm wrapped around him, her face a mask of loving concern. She was whispering in his ear, her hand stroking his back in a soothing motion.

It was a painful echo of how she used to care for me when I got sick. A performance.

My colleague, Dr. Evans, a senior physician who was consulting on our project, followed my gaze.

"Terrible business," he said quietly, shaking his head.

"What is?" I asked, pulling my eyes away from them.

"That virus. The one that young man has," he said, nodding discreetly towards Liam. "K-Syndrome. Nasty stuff. No cure. It's not just fatal, it's aggressive. We're seeing more cases of infected individuals intentionally spreading it. Some kind of twisted revenge against the world. They feel like their life is over, so they want to take as many people down with them as they can."

I felt a chill run down my spine despite the warmth of the lobby. K-Syndrome. That was far worse than what the first lab report had suggested. That report was just a preliminary screening. This was the reality.

Dr. Evans continued, oblivious to the storm raging inside me. "There was a case last month. A patient from this very clinic. Went to a party and infected a dozen people before we caught on. Said he wanted to 'share his gift.' The police are investigating a whole underground network of them."

My blood ran cold. An underground network.

I had to handle this. I had to protect my family. The first step was to cut the last tie.

"Excuse me, Dr. Evans," I said, my voice tight. "I just remembered I have to deal with some personal property issues."

The penthouse. It was still in my name. I had bought it outright as a wedding gift. A wedding that was no longer happening.

I made the call right there in the lobby. I told the building management to change the locks and that I would be listing the property for sale, effective immediately. All personal belongings inside were to be packed up and put in storage.

As I hung up, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Ethan?"

It was Chloe. She had seen me. She walked towards me, leaving Liam by the reception desk. Her smile was gone, replaced by a tight, annoyed expression.

Dr. Evans looked from her to me, a curious glint in his eye. "A friend of yours, Ethan?"

"She's my ex-fiancée," I said, my voice completely neutral.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh. I'm... sorry to hear that."

Chloe stopped in front of me, ignoring the doctor entirely. Her eyes were hard.

"I've been calling you," she said, her voice a low hiss. "Why aren't you answering your phone?"

I looked at her, feeling nothing but a distant, cold pity. All her power, all her manipulative charm, it meant nothing to me now.

"I've been busy," I said, my tone dismissive. I turned to Dr. Evans. "Shall we continue our discussion in the conference room?"