Rumored Fiancee

When we got to the company, I followed him into the office.

The building itself was intimidating—glass walls stretching high into the sky, polished marble floors reflecting the sharp heels of people who walked with purpose. Power lived here. You could feel it in the air, heavy and suffocating, like a silent reminder that this was not a place for weakness or mistakes. As Zyane strode ahead of me, every employee we passed straightened instantly, bowing slightly, murmuring greetings filled with reverence and fear.

I stayed two steps behind him. Always alert. Always watching.

The office doors opened, and that was when I saw her.

A lady with blonde hair sat inside.

Not just sat—she owned the space. Her posture was relaxed yet confident, legs crossed elegantly, manicured fingers resting lightly on the armrest of the chair. The sunlight streaming through the large windows kissed her golden hair, making it shimmer like something out of a magazine cover.

She was beautiful.

I wouldn’t deny that.

The kind of beauty that didn’t need effort. The kind that turned heads without trying. My steps slowed slightly, not because I was intimidated, but because something about her presence felt… deliberate. As if she belonged there more than anyone else.

Immediately she turned and saw Zane.

Her face lit up instantly.

She stood so fast her chair scraped against the floor, heels clicking as she rushed toward him without hesitation. Before I could even process what was happening, she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

I froze.

I was like, wow .

Zyane didn’t push her away.

He didn’t stiffen.

He didn’t react the way I had seen him react to other women.

Instead, he returned the hug.

My brows furrowed slightly. I thought he didn’t like touching women or anything about women. I thought he was a misogynist. I had watched him flinch when female staff came too close, seen the cold disdain in his eyes whenever a woman spoke longer than necessary.

Yet here he was.

Holding her.

“Long time no see, Cecilia,” he said, his voice noticeably softer than usual as he parted her hair gently.

She laughed lightly, her voice melodic and warm. “Oh, I really miss you, brother Zyane. Studying in a foreign country really took a toll on me. All I was thinking about there was you.”

Zyane chuckled.

Actually chuckled.

It was brief, subtle—but real.

He led her back to the chair, his hand resting on her shoulder protectively as she sat. The familiarity between them was undeniable. Whatever they shared wasn’t new. It was deep, rooted, and comfortable.

She turned to me then.

Her eyes swept over me slowly, critically, like she was assessing an object she hadn’t ordered but found in her space anyway. Her lips curved slightly, but there was no friendliness there. It felt more like irritation.

Like I had stolen her favorite toy or something.

She tilted her head. “Who are you?” she asked, her tone sharp.

I opened my mouth to speak.

But before a single word could leave my lips, she turned her face away from me and looked at Zyane instead—expectant, dismissive, as if my voice didn’t matter enough to hear.

I scoffed internally.

“She’s my bodyguard,” he said.

He didn’t look at me.

Not even once.

“Oh,” she said slowly, her expression twisting with open disgust. “Bodyguard.”

She let the word linger like it tasted bitter.

“Then you should see yourself outside,” she added mockingly, eyes flicking back to me. “Not like I’m going to kidnap my best friend or something.”

I looked at her.

Really looked at her.

And something inside me hardened.

“You’re not my boss,” I said calmly.

Her eyes widened instantly.

She nearly gasped.

“What did you say?”

Before I could respond, Zyane turned his head toward me. His gaze was sharp, warning. “You should leave.”

I didn’t say anything.

I wouldn’t say anything.

He was my boss.

So I turned and walked out.

My heels echoed against the floor as I exited the office, every step measured, controlled. I didn’t look back. I didn’t let my emotions show. I had learned long ago that reactions were weaknesses people used against you.

You have to follow the rules.

You have to be obedient.

That was the unspoken law of this place.

When I got to the lobby, I sat down there, my posture straight, my expression neutral. I picked up the coffee I had bought earlier, wrapping my fingers around the cup. The warmth grounded me, helped steady the faint irritation swirling inside my chest.

That was when I heard other people chattering.

“Miss Cecilia is back.”

“Wow, she’s more beautiful.”

“I heard she was supposed to engage to the CEO, but she left for her study in that foreign country.”

“Maybe they might continue with the engagement now.”

“Wow, they look the perfect couple.”

“I thought our CEO hates women.”

“I think Miss Cecilia is different. He has a special spot for her.”

“Don’t you see the way he normally looks at her pictures sometimes?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

I didn’t say anything else.

I kept sipping my coffee.

Each word I overheard sank deeper, settling into my thoughts like dust I couldn’t quite brush away. Engagement. Perfect couple. Special spot.

I felt… nothing.

Or at least, that was what I told myself.

Thank God if he was getting engaged. I won’t want someone like him as a dad for my daughter.

That thought came easily. Naturally.

His world was too mysterious and dangerous. Even in just these past few weeks of being his bodyguard, I had seen too much—suspicious cars or vans following us, unfamiliar faces lingering too long, shadows moving where they shouldn’t.

Once, I had caught a glimpse of them clearly.

They looked dangerous.

Hardened.

The kind of men who didn’t hesitate.

That wasn’t the world I pictured for my daughter at all.

Jasmine deserved warmth. Safety. A life untouched by secrets and threats and power plays. Not this. Never this.

I took another sip of my coffee, exhaling slowly.

Whatever Zyane Harrison’s life was… it wasn’t ours.

And it never would be.