Chapter 2
After hanging up the phone, I trudged back to the apartment I shared with Ezra Lopez, feeling like a zombie. Mechanically, I began packing, discarding all the gifts Ezra had given me over the past three years—a bullet-shaped pendant, medals, stuffed animals, lipsticks—one by one into the trash bin. Just as I tossed the last medal, the door lock clicked open. It was not Ezra, but his brother Jireh Lopez who walked in.
In a voice mimicking Ezra's, he asked, "Keira, what are you throwing away?"
My voice was hoarse and dripping with sarcasm. "Don't these things look familiar to you?”
Jireh’s smile faltered for a moment, then he quickly changed the subject. “Why are your eyes so swollen? Is it because of the photo incident? Don’t be upset. I've already had the tech department take down all the photos. The person who posted them is in jail now, and no one will dare talk about you again. So, the selection spot is gone. These things happen.”
My heart felt like it was being stabbed with needles, my nails digging deep into my palm. Those brothers—each a better actor than the other.
Later that night, after Jireh showered and lay down beside me, he wrapped his arms around me, gently kissing my earlobe. I stiffened, enduring it. In a drowsy moment, I heard him whisper in his sleep, “Gemma…”
Those two words plunged an icy dagger into my heart. Suddenly, I was wide awake, my blood running cold. It wasn't just Ezra; even Jireh, while with me, thought of Gemma Johnston!
I pushed him away, my voice trembling. “I’m on my period today…”
Jireh paused at my sudden reaction, eventually sighing in agreement. “Alright, I won’t touch you, just sleep while holding you.”
Rigidly nestled in his arms, I fought back nausea and pain, drifting off into a fitful sleep only in the latter half of the night.
The next morning, I rose in a haze, washed up, and went to the office to start processing my resignation. Upon learning it would take five days to complete the paperwork, I immediately booked a flight for five days later on my phone. Just as I was about to leave the office, a colleague hurried over, calling my name, “Keira Castro, Van Nichols wants you in his office immediately, says it’s urgent!”
My heart sank, a bad feeling brewing. I pushed open Van Nichols' office door, and just as I feared, Gemma Johnston was inside.
Gemma cast a smug glance my way before feigning a pitiful look. Van Nichols’ face was dark as he saw me enter, slamming two project analysis reports onto the desk. “Keira Castro, Gemma Johnston! Explain why your reports are so similar; even the errors are identical. Who copied whom? If you admit it, the punishment will be lighter!”
Gemma immediately spoke up, her tone both aggrieved and firm. “Commander Nichols, my report is entirely my own work! I don’t understand why it’s similar to Keira’s, but I didn’t copy!”
I looked at the reports, my heart sinking, yet I bit my lip and said, “Mine is independently done as well, no copying involved.”
Gemma quickly added, “Commander Nichols, I have a witness!”
The office door swung open again, and Ezra Lopez strode in with long steps. Without even glancing at me, he directly addressed Van Nichols. “I stayed up late with Gemma to help her revise her report. She couldn’t have copied. As for why they’re alike…”
He turned his gaze to me, his eyes cold. “Ask the other person.”
I stared at him in disbelief. Once, I might not have understood why he acted this way. But now, knowing the whole truth, what is there not to grasp? For Gemma, he pretended to date me, exposed my private photos, and now pinned plagiarism on me. What’s surprising anymore?
Van Nichols let Ezra and Gemma leave, then severely reprimanded me, declaring my report void and marking it in my records.
Exhausted, I returned to the apartment, collapsing on the bed early. Not long after, the door lock clicked, and Jireh was back. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, offering soothing yet hollow justifications for the report incident. I listened numbly, finding only cold laughter in my heart. One brother muddies the waters, the other tries to clean up the mess; they’re experts at their duet.
I shut my eyes, unwilling to exchange another word with him. Jireh, noticing my silence, pulled me up without a word. “Didn’t you say you wanted to check off everything on the ‘couples must-do list’? Today, I’ll do it all with you!”
He gave me no chance to refuse, dragging me out to watch romantic movies, visit cultural shops, eat trendy desserts—doing all those seemingly sweet things. Until nightfall, he took me to a high-end karaoke bar.
Jireh pressed me onto the sofa in a private room, saying, “I’m going to the restroom, I’ll be right back.”
He’d just left when the private room door was suddenly slammed open. Several men reeking of alcohol staggered in. Seeing me, their eyes lit up. “Whoa, there's a girl hiding here, and she’s a real looker!”
The drunken men laughed lecherously, surrounding me, locking the door behind them. I struggled desperately, but as a woman, I was no match for several drunken men. Just when I thought I was doomed, there was a loud bang as the private room door was kicked open from outside.
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