Zoey

The more timeI spend in Cooper’s world, the more I realize how much I never knew about him. He’s always been a force—confident, commanding, unshakable. But now, as the days pass, I see the cracks beneath his polished exterior.

I see it in the way his shoulders sag when he thinks no one is looking. In the moments he rubs at the scar on his left wrist, his fingers tracing it like it holds a memory he can’t shake. I see it in his eyes, sharp and calculating when he’s in control but shadowed with something I can’t quite place when he’s not.

And though I try to hold on to my anger, it’s harder to hate him when I see just how deeply he’s been hurt.

It’s mid-morning,and I’m sitting in Cooper’s study, helping one of his men, Liam, sort through stacks of files. The task feels mundane, almost normal, except for the content of the files. They’re filled with names, locations, and details of Cooper’soperations—evidence of the sprawling empire he’s built, brick by bloody brick.

“I don’t know how he keeps all this straight,” I mutter, flipping through another folder.

Liam chuckles. “The boss has a mind for it. He sees connections most of us wouldn’t even think to look for.”

“That’s one way to put it,” I reply, though my tone is dry. The more I see, the more complicated it all feels.

I reach for another file, and as I skim its contents, my breath catches. It’s not just logistics or financials—it’s a list of names marked with symbols I don’t understand. Beside some are checkmarks; others have a single X.

“What is this?” I ask, holding up the document.

Liam glances at it and immediately stiffens. “That’s above my pay grade,” he says, standing abruptly. “I should, uh, get back to the front.”

He leaves before I can press him further, and I stare at the file in my hands, my stomach twisting. The checkmarks. The Xs. I don’t know what they mean, but I have a sinking feeling it’s nothing good.

I stand and take the file with me, heading straight for Cooper’s office. He’s sitting behind his desk, the phone pressed to his ear. When he sees me, he quickly ends the call, his eyes narrowing as they flick to the folder in my hands.

“What’s this?” I demand, dropping it onto the desk.

He glances at the file but doesn’t pick it up. “Where did you get that?”

“Liam and I were organizing the study,” I reply, crossing my arms. “Why does it matter? What is this, Cooper?”

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Don’t,” I snap, my anger flaring. “Don’t shut me out. You promised no more secrets.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he’s going to refuse. But then he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a record,” he admits. “People we’ve dealt with—business partners, rivals, threats.”

“And the symbols?” I press, my voice trembling slightly.

“The checkmarks mean they’re neutralized,” he says bluntly. “The Xs mean they’re... no longer a problem.”

My stomach turns. “You mean they’re dead.”

“Yes.”

The single word hangs heavy in the air, and I take a step back, my mind racing. I knew Cooper’s world was dark, but seeing it laid out so plainly is something else entirely. It’s cold, calculated, and terrifying.

“Jesus, Cooper,” I whisper. “How many people have you?—?”

“Too many,” he interrupts, his voice low and even. “But not as many as you think. I don’t kill unless there’s no other option.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” I ask, my voice rising. “You keep files on people’s lives like they’re just... pieces on a chessboard.”

“That’s exactly what they are,” he says sharply, standing and leaning over the desk. “This isn’t a game, Zoey. It’s survival. And if I didn’t keep track of every move, every threat, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

I stare at him, my chest tightening with a mix of anger and something I can’t quite name. “Is that how you justify it? By telling yourself it’s for survival?”

“It’s not a justification,” he snaps. “It’s the truth. You think I want this? You think I enjoy any of it?”