CHAPTER 228: CHAPTER 228: SHATTERED BETWEEN GUILT AND LOVE

~Evric’s POV~

He stopped counting and held the phone up, right next to his face, ready to hit the final button. "Let’s pick up, darling. Let’s let him see how well you slept."

"NOOOOOOOO..." I screamed, the sound ripping from my throat. "Please, Nicki!" I begged, tears of sheer panic flooding my eyes, my voice raw with terror. "I’m begging you! Don’t do this!"

Nicki ignored my plea, his triumphant smile fixed on the screen. His finger descended, preparing to make contact with the ’Answer’ button...

And then, the phone stopped ringing.

The sudden silence was deafening, snapping the intense tension like a breaking wire. Nicki froze, his attention momentarily diverted by the unexpected end of the call.

It was the only chance I had.

I lunged forward—not at his face, but at his hand. With a desperate, frantic grab, I tore the phone from his grip before he could even react. I didn’t look at the screen; I just screamed, "Don’t you ever touch my phone!" and stumbled backward, clutching it like a shield against the poisonous triumph gleaming in Nicki’s eyes.

I didn’t utter another word to him. I finished dressing in a blur of frantic motion, grabbed my wallet and car keys, and didn’t wait a minute longer. I fled Nicki’s apartment, moving quickly and carefully through the building’s underground garage, terrified of being seen or recorded. I just needed to be out.

I drove straight home.

The moment I stepped inside my room, I dropped my phone on the bed. I rushed to the bathroom and stood under the hottest shower I could stand, scrubbing my skin until it was red, desperate to wash away the scent of that silk bed and the monster of Nicki’s touch. Only once I was clean, dressed in fresh clothes, and back in the sanctuary of the living room did I pick up my phone.

My hands were shaking as I tried to call Zayn back. He answered on the second ring.

Zayn’s face filled the screen, looking utterly exhausted and etched with worry, but his voice was immediately sweet and calm, the sound a devastating reminder of everything I had just risked.

"Baby," he breathed out, the word overflowing with relief. "Where have you been since yesterday?"

The guilt was a physical punch to my gut.

"I... I had to turn it off," I lied, keeping my voice level and romantic. "The calls were non-stop, and I just needed silence to process the Draeven news. I’m sorry, I should have texted you."

"Evans reached out to me," Zayn said, his eyes softening with relief. "He couldn’t reach you, and neither could your father. You had me worried sick, Evric. Where have you been since last night?"

I quickly diverted the attention back to him, focusing on the dark circles under his eyes. "I’m sorry, I’m home now. But you, my love, look completely spent. Have you even slept?"

"I’m fine, baby," he reassured me, his tired smile struggling to shine through. "I slept, just... not enough. They’re still running tests on my mom, but she’s stable. It’s just hard being here."

"I know," I whispered, the lie of my recent hours making the honesty of my care for him sting. "I wish I could be there to hold your hand. Just remember that you are the most loving, wonderful man, and you deserve every bit of peace you can get."

I had to keep him talking. I had to keep him from noticing the subtle tremor in my voice or the haunted look in my eyes. I had to maintain the illusion that I was the good, faithful lover he had left behind.

Zayn’s smile suddenly faded, and he tilted his head, his tired eyes narrowing as he started staring intently at me through the screen.

"Babe, what’s wrong?" I asked quickly, the question jumping out of me.

"Are you alright, Evric?" Zayn asked, his voice now laced with deep concern. "The news is everywhere. I saw the news that you’ve been removed from the major..."

I cut in instantly, forcing a reassuring smile. "I’m fine, really. I was prepared for it. It just meant I needed a silent night to process everything. I’ve handled the immediate fallout. Don’t worry about me. I’m strong."

Zayn didn’t look convinced. "Where were you last night, then? You weren’t answering your calls, and Evans said you weren’t at his place or at home. So where exactly is ’somewhere silent’?"

I softened my gaze, leaning into the camera. "Somewhere quiet, my love. Just me and the dark. I was thinking of you, actually. Thinking about how much I missed you."

He sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing only slightly. "I don’t like you being alone right now. I need you to be safe and distracted." Then, in a firm but gentle tone, he added, "I want you to hang up, get up, and get dressed. Go to Evans’ house. Don’t stay in that big house by yourself, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed instantly. "I’ll go to Evans’ place."

The simple act of being worried about, of being loved, felt like a fresh betrayal of Zayn’s trust.

"I love you, Evric. I’ll call you as soon as I get a chance," Zayn promised.

"I love you more, baby," I whispered, the words carrying the full, desperate weight of my ruined soul. The call ended.

The phone dropped onto the sofa. I walked straight to the kitchen entrance and called out to the staff.

"Serve lunch, please," I instructed the maid.

I moved toward the empty mahogany table, but as I stood there, the memory of the morning, the silk sheets, the sandalwood scent, Nicki’s chilling laughter, and the word "recorded"—slammed into me.

What if it’s true? What if I really had sex with Nicki?

I couldn’t breathe. The food, the plate settings, the opulent room, all of it felt suffocating. I gripped the back of a chair, my body trembling uncontrollably.

I rushed upstairs, bypassing the food, and collapsed onto the pristine white duvet in our bedroom. I pulled a pillow over my face and finally let go.

The screams were muffled, thick with tears. I cried for my career, for my father’s disappointment, but mostly for the imminent loss of Zayn. Losing my fortune was painful, but losing Zayn will literally make me run mad.

I threw the pillow off and shouted, "GOD, DON’T LET THIS

BE TRUE! PLEASE!"

I curled up, shaking, looking up at the ceiling. "I swear, I swear if Nicki is lying about this, I will keep every promise! I’ll grow up! I’ll never drink again, I’ll put my partner first, I’ll stop being selfish, and I will be the man Zayn deserves! Just don’t let this be true!"

The promise hung in the air, a desperate plea from a pitiful, broken lover hoping for a miracle he knew he didn’t deserve.

I couldn’t stay home. I couldn’t risk another moment of isolation. Before I could make another catastrophic mistake, I forced myself to get ready and went downstairs.

I asked my driver to take me directly to Evans’ house.

I walked into Evans’ spacious living room, finding my brother waiting for me with a tense, guarded expression. He had clearly been anxious.

I had barely sat down before Evans launched into a low, harsh interrogation. "Where were you last night, Evric? You better be telling me the truth. Zayn was worried, and I was getting calls all night. We’ve just navigated a catastrophe with the firm. If you bring another type of trouble to our door, I swear you will face it entirely on your own."

I didn’t answer right away. I just sat there, staring blankly at Evans, the shame and the terror rendering me mute.

Evans, still talking in a low, furious tone, suddenly faltered. He stopped mid-sentence. He knew me too well. He saw the genuine, utterly defeated look on my face, not the petulant anger he was used to, but the hollow gaze of a man who had lost everything.

His voice softened instantly. "Hey. Hey, Evric, is everything okay?"

I lost the battle right there. My composure crumbled, and a fresh wave of uncontrollable sobs tore through me.

Evans immediately felt bad, assuming my broken state was entirely due to the cruel things he’d said to me in our father’s office days ago, or the loss of the project.

"Hey, Evric, I didn’t mean any of those things, not really," he started, moving toward me.

Before he could finish the apology, I surged up and rushed forward, clinging to him in a desperate, bruising hug, burying my face against his shoulder.

Evans was stunned for a moment, then his brotherly instincts kicked in. He held me tight, stroking my back. "Hey, stop crying. We are going to support you no matter what, even if you bring more trouble. Okay?"

I could only manage one choked word into his jacket: "I’m sorry."

"Oh, it’s okay," Evans murmured, holding me tighter.