Mated To My Ex's Ruthless Brother

The vibration of the phone against the hard wood of the desk sounded like a drill in the silence of the room.

Zoe Vance stared at the screen. 3:12 AM.

Outside the window of her dorm at Columbia, the wind was already howling, battering the glass with the first hard pellets of the predicted blizzard. But the cold that seized her chest had nothing to do with the weather.

Liam Sterling.

The name flashed on the screen, illuminating the dark room. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, uneven rhythm. Liam never called personally at this hour. Usually, it was his assistant, Marcus, handling the logistics or relaying changes in plans. He was supposed to be in London for a business trip, or at least that's what he had told her three days ago when he blew off their dinner plans. She pushed down the rising bile of suspicion. He had to be in London. He wouldn't lie about that. Maybe something was wrong with the time difference.

She swiped right, her fingers trembling slightly. "Liam?"

"Is this Ms. Vance?"

The voice was not Liam's. It was heavy, flat, and reeked of authority and exhaustion.

"Yes," Zoe whispered, sitting up straighter, clutching her cardigan around her pajamas. "Who is this?"

"Officer Miller, NYPD 19th Precinct. We have a Liam Sterling in custody. He's asking for you."

The air left Zoe's lungs. Custody. The word hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

"Is he hurt?" Her voice cracked. "What happened?"

"Altercation at a bar downtown. Look, Ms. Vance, he needs bail posted. He refused to call his family lawyer. He gave us your number."

Of course he did.

Zoe was already moving. She pinned the phone between her ear and shoulder, grabbing her purse, her ID, and the thick wool coat hanging by the door. "I'm coming. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

She hung up and moved with the frantic efficiency of a soldier drilled for this exact scenario. Liam needed her. That was the only thought allowed to exist in her brain. Not the fact that he had lied about being in London. Not the fact that she had a final paper due at 8 AM.

He needs me.

Getting a ride was a nightmare. The Uber app showed surge prices that would make a banker weep, and wait times that stretched into infinity. Zoe ran out to Broadway, the wind biting at her exposed face, stinging her eyes. She practically threw herself in front of a yellow cab.

The ride to the Upper East Side precinct was a blur of neon lights smearing against wet glass. Zoe sat in the back, her stomach twisting into tight, painful knots. She played out scenarios in her head. Maybe someone had insulted the Sterling name. Maybe he had been mugged. Liam was impulsive, yes, but he wasn't violent. Not without cause.

The precinct smelled of stale coffee, floor wax, and misery. The fluorescent lights hummed with a headache-inducing buzz.

Zoe