The road stretched out before them, dark and quiet, the car's headlights slicing through the fog that had settled over the countryside. The hum of the engine filled the silence, and for the first time since they'd met, Lena noticed a different side to Antony—he looked preoccupied, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, his expression softened by a sadness that seemed almost out of place.
Lena hesitated for a moment, watching him, then gathered her courage. "You look… I don't know. Did something go wrong back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Antony's eyes didn't leave the road, but a faint, humorless smile curved his lips. "No, Mrs. Carter. I was right," he said, his voice tinged with bitterness, then let out a heavy sigh that seemed to come from a place much deeper than disappointment.
Lena shifted in her seat, unsure of how to respond. The car felt smaller now, the air thicker, as if something important hung unspoken between them. She wanted to reach out, to say something that might lift the mood, but words felt inadequate.
Antony broke the silence first. "Do you have a dream, Mrs. Carter?" he asked, his tone lighter but still carrying an undercurrent of melancholy.
"Of course," Lena replied, blinking in surprise. "Doesn't everyone?"
"Yes," he said, his eyes briefly meeting hers before turning back to the road. "But tell me, would you sacrifice your friends to make your dream come true?"
Lena's answer came without hesitation. "Of course not. Friends are—well, they're everything. No dream is worth losing the people you care about."
Antony's smile was gentle, almost sad. "Then your dreams are either trivial, or you haven't faced the harsh reality of the world yet."
Lena frowned, sitting up straighter. "What's that supposed to mean? Just because I wouldn't hurt someone for my goals doesn't mean my dreams aren't important."
Antony's gaze turned sharp, the warmth fading from his eyes. "Mrs. Carter, the world doesn't run on noble intentions. Look at history—wars fought over ambition, politics driven by power, fortunes built on ruins. Even love; for every love realized, there are others left in sadness, pretenders driven to jealousy. Do you think the rich and powerful got where they are by sparing everyone's feelings? Unfortunately, no—sacrifices are the currency of success in this world."
"But... that's not how it should be," Lena argued. "If you're willing to betray the people you care about for a dream, then what's the point of achieving it? Who's left to share it with?"
Antony's expression softened into something almost pitying. "You speak like someone who has yet to be tested, Mrs. Carter. What you see as betrayal, others see as survival. Sometimes, it's not about choosing between friends and dreams—it's about the harsh reality that both can't coexist. When faced with the choice between what you want most and who you care for, the decision isn't always as clear as you'd like it to be."
He hesitated, then looked away, his tone turning softer, touched with regret. "... I helped them... a lot," Antony said quietly, his eyes distant as if looking through memories. "They were more than allies to me. They were close friends—almost like family. We built something together, something I believed in with all my heart."
He looked down, his voice now a whisper. "And yet, when the moment came, they chose their dreams over everything we had. Over me. They reached for more, even if it meant letting go of what we once had."
Lena's breath hitched as she saw a flicker of raw pain cross his face. It wasn't just bitterness; it was the hurt of someone who had been deeply betrayed by those he trusted most.
He let out a slow breath, his expression hardening slightly. "And so, they paid the price."
Lena's breath caught. "Wait, so you already—"
Antony's smile turned wry. "No, not revenge, Mrs. Carter. Retribution. Cause and effect, the universe's simplest equation. I didn't seek to punish them out of anger; I merely completed the circle they began. They set events in motion, and I ensured they faced the consequences. Just as gravity pulls the apple to the earth, every action demands a reaction."
"But vengeance," Lena said softly, "I... I don't know..."
Antony's eyes met hers, a flicker of sorrow mixed with a strange serenity. "It wasn't vengeance fueled by rage or hatred. It was closure. It's about balance, Mrs. Carter. One must be prepared to accept the consequences of their actions, just as one must be prepared to defend their choices. Strike, and you should expect a response—that's the most natural thing in the world."
He paused, and his gaze seemed to pierce through her, as if seeing not just her face but the very core of her being. "In life, every ambition, every desire, has a cost. And sometimes that cost is paid in relationships, trust, or even lives. The only question is whether you're willing to pay it."
Lena didn't know what to say. She wanted to argue, to tell him that his view of the world was too cynical. But the way he spoke, with such calm and certainty, made her words falter. She realized that for Antony, this wasn't just a belief—it was a truth he had lived.
The car grew silent again, filled only with the hum of the engine and the distant sound of the wind outside. The sadness in Antony's expression was almost beautiful in its vulnerability. For a brief moment, Lena forgot about the strangeness of the night, about their odd alliance. She saw him not as the enigmatic figure who had risen from a casket but as a man who had lost something irreplaceable.
As they neared the cemetery, Antony pulled the car to a gentle stop. He turned to her, his eyes no longer guarded, but soft, almost kind. "You can leave me here," he said quietly. "I expect you to come back tomorrow, at the same time."
Lena nodded slowly, the weight of their conversation still heavy in her chest. She reached for the door handle but hesitated, glancing back at him. "Antony," she said, the name feeling more familiar on her tongue now. "I may not agree with you about the whole sacrifice thing, but… I get it. I get why it matters to you."
He gave her a small, almost grateful nod, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Goodnight, Lena," he said, his voice a low murmur, as if he were saying goodbye to something more than just her.
Lena stepped out of the car, the cool night air wrapping around her like a shroud. She watched Antony drive off into the darkness, his silhouette fading into the mist. With a sigh, she turned and headed home, her thoughts tangled in everything she'd heard tonight.
Back at her cramped apartment, she tossed her bag onto the chair and grabbed her phone from her pocket. The screen lit up with a string of messages from Alice—photos from a Halloween party, all smiles and silly poses. Lena couldn't help but smirk at the irony, her world feeling galaxies away from her friend's carefree night.
Then, another notification caught her eye—a bank alert. Her breath hitched as she stared at the message: a payment had just landed in her account. The amount was real, undeniable. It was more than enough to cover a month's rent and then some.
Lena let out a slow breath, a mix of disbelief and relief settling over her. Whatever this job was, it was paying off—literally.
She turned off the lights, crawling into bed, her phone still glowing on the nightstand. For now, she'd sleep. Tomorrow, she'd face whatever came next.