Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

S ophia

Zeus paces behind the bars, his massive body moving with the kind of grace that only comes with power. He’s restless today, more agitated than usual, and I can’t blame him. The entire circus is suffocating under the weight of whatever the hell is happening here. Every day, more animals disappear, and every day the whispers grow louder, the stares sharper.

And now those stares are on me.

I feel it—the way people look at me when I walk by. It’s as if they’re waiting for me to crack, waiting for me to slip up and reveal that I’m the monster stealing from them. It’s ironic, really. I’ve spent my whole life protecting these animals, and now the people I’ve fought alongside are the ones who think I could betray them. It makes me sick.

The worst part? Part of me is starting to wonder if they’re right.

I press my hands against the cold metal of Zeus’s cage, trying to ground myself. His golden eyes meet mine, calm and unwavering, but it doesn’t soothe the growing storm inside me. I can’t stop thinking about the disappearances, about the things I can’t explain. Could I have done something without knowing? Said something to the wrong person that set this string of thefts into motion? Could my obsession with protecting these animals have driven me to do something reckless, something I’ve blocked out?

I shake my head, trying to push the thoughts away. No. I would never hurt them. But doubt is a slippery thing, and once it sinks its claws into you, it’s almost impossible to shake. The weight of it presses down on me, suffocating, making it hard to think, hard to breathe.

A noise behind me pulls me out of my thoughts, and I turn to see Alex walking toward me. My chest tightens at the sight of him. He’s the last person I want to see right now, but also the one I can’t stop thinking about. I hate that he still has this effect on me, even after everything.

He stops a few feet away, his eyes scanning me with a mixture of concern and something else—guilt, maybe. “Sophia.”

I don’t respond, turning my attention back to Zeus. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll leave. But of course, he doesn’t.

“Everyone’s on edge,” Alex says, his voice low. “They’re scared.”

I scoff. “They’re not scared, Alex. They’re looking for someone to blame.”

He doesn’t argue, which only makes the knot in my chest tighten. I know I’m right. They’ve already made up their minds. I’m the lion tamer. The animals trust me. It’s too easy to point fingers in my direction.

“They’re wrong,” Alex says, stepping closer. “You know that, right?”

I close my eyes, trying to hold on to that truth, but the doubt is still there, gnawing at the edges of my mind. “Do I?”

Alex reaches out, his hand hovering near my arm as if he’s not sure whether I’ll pull away. I don’t move, but I don’t look at him either. “Sophia,” he says softly, “I know you. You would never do this.”

I want to believe him. God, do I want to believe him. But how can I trust anything he says? He’s been lying to me since the beginning, pretending to be someone he’s not. And now, when I need to be sure of who I am, I can’t even trust myself.

I take a step back, breaking the small, fragile connection between us. “You don’t know me as well as you think.”

Alex’s expression hardens, but there’s something softer in his eyes, something I don’t want to see right now. “I know you’re scared.”

I grit my teeth, refusing to let him in. “I don’t need you to save me.”

“I’m not trying to save you,” he says quietly. “I just don’t want you to go through this alone.”

The words hit me harder than I expect, but I push the feeling down, burying it deep. Alone is what I know. Alone is where I’m safe.

I stand outside Alex’s trailer, my fists clenched, my pulse a frantic beat in my chest. Every instinct screams at me to turn around, to forget this, to handle things on my own like I always have. But the circus is unraveling, the animals are disappearing, and the people I once called family are starting to turn on me.

I can’t do this alone. As much as I hate it, I need him.

The last place I want to be is here, pacing like a caged animal in front of Alex’s door. After everything—his lies, his betrayal—I never wanted to speak to him again. But now, my hands are tied. It’s not about me anymore. It’s about Zeus, the animals, and the circus that’s falling apart at the seams.

I bite my lip, staring at the trailer door. My stomach twists in knots. I’ve rebuilt my walls since our last encounter, bricked them back up as high and solid as ever. Now I’m about to crack them again, and I hate that it’s for him. But there’s no other option. I take a deep breath and force myself to knock.

The door opens faster than I expected. Alex stands there, shirtless, his eyes wide with surprise. His gaze locks onto mine, and the air between us thickens with tension. For a second, I can’t breathe, can’t think past the overwhelming urge to turn and run.

“Sophia.” His voice is low, cautious.

I don’t let myself linger on the way his skin gleams in the soft light of the trailer or how his eyes have that familiar heat that always made my pulse quicken. I cross my arms over my chest, my posture rigid, keeping as much distance between us as I can.

“We need to work together,” I say, my voice clipped, each word bitter on my tongue.

Alex’s expression shifts, something close to relief flickering across his face. But he stays quiet, waiting for me to continue. Smart. He knows he’s on thin ice, and one wrong word could send me storming away.

“I don’t trust you,” I add, forcing myself to keep the anger out of my voice, even though it’s bubbling just beneath the surface. “But I need help, and the animals need protection. So this isn’t about you and me. This is about them.”

Alex nods slowly, stepping back to give me space to enter the trailer, though I don’t move from the doorway. He’s careful, deliberate. He knows I could snap at any moment, and I can see the tension in his shoulders as he tries to figure out how to navigate this without pushing me too far.

“I understand,” he says, his tone measured. “I know I screwed up. But I want to help. I never stopped wanting to help.”

I swallow the retort that rises in my throat. This isn’t about us. I keep reminding myself of that. “This is business, Alex. Strictly business. Don’t make it more than that.”

I can see the way his jaw tightens, the way he presses his lips together as if to hold back whatever apology or explanation is burning on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he just nods again. “Okay.”

The word hangs between us, fragile but holding. It’s enough to keep me here, to let this shaky partnership begin.

I finally step inside, though I stay near the door, keeping my arms crossed tight against my chest like a shield. The small space of the trailer is charged with tension, and I can feel Alex’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet his gaze. I can’t.

“You’ve been working on the investigation,” I say, focusing on anything other than the heat between us. “What do we know so far?”

Alex leans against the counter, giving me space, though I can sense the pull between us—electric, undeniable, and completely unwelcome. His voice is calm, methodical as he outlines the details of what he’s uncovered. The thefts are part of a larger operation, more organized than any of us realized. Whoever’s behind it isn’t just targeting us—they’re hitting other places too. The stakes are higher than I thought.

“We’re running out of time,” he says, his tone softening. “Sophia, if we don’t figure this out soon, more animals will disappear. And Zeus…”

My heart clenches at the mention of Zeus. I grit my teeth, willing myself not to show any weakness. I have to stay strong, keep my emotions in check. But the thought of losing him, of letting this circus—my home—fall apart... it’s too much.

“I know,” I whisper, my voice strained. “That’s why I’m here.”

For a moment, the weight of everything—Zeus, the missing animals, the crumbling circus—presses down on me, and I feel myself faltering. But I can’t let him see that. I can’t let Alex think for a second that I need him for anything more than this. I straighten my shoulders, forcing the vulnerability back behind my walls.

“This isn’t about us,” I say again, more firmly this time. “I don’t want to talk about what happened. I don’t want to hear any more excuses. We work together to solve this, and when it’s done, we go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist.”

Alex’s expression darkens, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he steps closer, just enough that I can feel the heat of him, the pull I’ve been trying to ignore. “Sophia… I’m not asking for anything more. But you need to know that everything I’ve said—everything I’ve felt—it’s real. I never meant to hurt you.”

My throat tightens, but I refuse to let him in. Not again. I tilt my chin up, meeting his gaze with all the resolve I can muster. “It doesn’t matter.”

The silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken words, unresolved emotions, and the simmering tension that’s always there, no matter how much I try to push it away. But I won’t let myself fall into that trap again. Not with him.

“We need to focus,” I say, breaking the silence. “The animals. The investigation. That’s all this is about.”

He nods, though I can see the flicker of something—regret, longing—behind his eyes. But he doesn’t push, and for that, I’m grateful.

I turn away from him, taking a deep breath to steady myself. This is about survival. About saving the circus. About protecting Zeus. It’s not about Alex. And I won’t let myself forget that.