Page 50 of Double Standards
‘MAFIA MURDERER: How Much Is Your Freedom Worth?’
The words scream at me in bold print, and suddenly the room feels smaller, colder. My hands tremble as I scan the first few lines, my heart thudding in my ears. A sick feeling coils in my stomach, a silent panic clawing its way up my spine. This has to be a joke—a twisted, horrible joke.
I glance up at him, my voice barely above a whisper. “You wrote this?”
Cooper doesn’t even flinch. His eyes stay fixed on the screen for a moment before he finally answers, flat and emotionless. “It’s a story I’ve been working on.”
His tone is calm, detached—like this isn’t a gut punch. Likehe hasn’t just blindsided me with something that could destroy everything.
“This is about Axel, Coop!” I slam the paper down on the table, the sound echoing through the apartment like a gunshot. My voice cracks with fury, volcanic and raw. “I can’t believe you!”
He doesn’t even flinch. “Yeah? And?”
“You can’t publish this!” I all but scream. My hands are trembling, my breath coming in shallow bursts. The rage is hot and blistering, bubbling just beneath my skin—and still, Cooper stares at me like I’m the one who’s crossed a line.
His face hardens, his mouth curling with disdain. “Okay, first of all, you don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t publish. I’m a journalist, Cass. It’s my job now. Second—you ignored me when I told you who you were working for, so forgive me if I don’t feel particularly sympathetic right now.”
“So, this is payback?” I spit the words like venom. “Coop, this will ruin him. It will ruinme! And it’s all lies!”
His laugh is humorless, sharp as broken glass. “Lies? You sure about that?” He pushes back from the table and stands, towering over me with narrowed eyes and clenched fists. “You’d know, wouldn’t you?”
The heat inside me spikes, flames licking up my spine and burning through my throat. I’m shaking, seething, barely holding back the storm of everything I’ve swallowed for weeks—months. His words feel like betrayal with a knife’s edge, and I don’t know if I’m more furious or heartbroken.
My voice is low, almost guttural. “You crossed a line, Cooper.”
He steps closer, his jaw clenched tight. “No, Cass.Youdid. The second you started defending a murderer.”
“You know what?” I hiss, my voice shaking.
Cooper doesn’t flinch. He just stands there, eyes wide for a second before a bitter laugh escapes his lips. He brings a hand tohis cheek, but there’s no wince, no real reaction—only the cold satisfaction of someone who’s been expecting this.
“He was right. You are a fucking pig.”
His smile falters.
I see it—the flicker of pain in his eyes, the wounded pride, the sharp twist of disbelief. But just as quickly as it appears, he shoves it down, straightening his shoulders like he’s preparing for another blow.
I don’t wait around to hear what he says next. The shame, the rage, the sheer weight of it all crashes over me like a tidal wave. I snatch my bag off the table with trembling fingers, barely able to breathe as I storm toward the door.
The second the cold city air hits my face, it steals the heat from my skin—but not from my chest. I pause on the sidewalk, my breath visible in short, shaky puffs. For a moment, I consider turning back, facing him and telling him what happened tonight between Axel and I. But my pride is louder than my guilt. My heart is pounding, furious, and fractured.
There’s no way I can stay there tonight. Not after what I did. Not after whathedid.
Not after everything that was said.
I’m wracked with disbelief, my thoughts spiraling in every direction as I storm down the street. Theaudacityof Cooper—writing that article in the first place, sitting there so calmly while it sat on our kitchen table like a ticking time bomb. My body burns with white-hot fury, the kind that crackles beneath the skin like wildfire, searing everything in its path. I can’t calm the inferno raging inside me, and I don’t want to. The only thing I can do is walk away.
I want to scream. I want to cry. But no tears come—only this dull, aching throb in my chest, like something inside is caving in. And beneath all the fury, there’s a hollow yearning I can’t ignore. I don’t just want comfort. I want something else.Someone else.
It hits me then—me and Cooper? We’re not on the same page. Hell, maybe we never were. Maybe we’ve been pretendingthis whole time, clinging to something that stopped fitting a long time ago. Still, there's a voice whispering in the back of my mind, one I try to silence:Maybe this is your fault too. Maybe you’ve been slipping away and didn’t even notice.
But I shove the thought aside. I won’t play the victim. I can’t. Cooper’s the one who crossed the line. Publishing that article—not even giving me the courtesy of a warning—he’s compromised everything. My position, my reputation, maybe even my entire career. I didn’t read the whole thing, but I saw enough. I saw the headline. I saw the intent. And if Axel ever lays eyes on it…
God help us all.
My heels slap against the pavement as I pace, my phone gripped tight in my hand like a lifeline. I don’t even have to think about who to call. My thumb moves on instinct, and it doesn’t take long before she answers.
“Hey, bitch!” Lexie chirps, her voice a bright light in the darkness clinging to me.
