The words hung in the air like a challenge. Y/N's lawyer pressed his lips into a thin line, sliding the stack of documents across the polished mahogany table with practiced precision.

The click of the clock on the wall marked each passing second with cold indifference. Then- a sound from the hallway. Heavy footsteps. Unhurried. Almost leisurely.

Jason's green eyes—those eyes that had once made Y/N believe in impossible things—found hers and held them. He crossed the room with that casual swagger that had never quite faded, dropping into the chair across from her as if he owned the place.

The lawyer's pen stopped mid-scratch.

Jason tilted his head. His smile widened into something dangerous. Something that made the air in the room feel suddenly too thin.

The words landed like a grenade rolling across the table.