8. Full of Secret

After dinner, the guests began saying their goodbyes one by one. Some merely nodded at Helga, while the rest didn’t even glance at her. As if her presence was far less important than what had just been discussed at the table.

Helga stood beside Zean, politely nodding to each guest who passed. Her stomach wasn’t full, and her heart and mind were still in turmoil.

Once the main door closed, Helga turned to walk toward the stairs, but Zean’s voice stopped her.

“Wait in the room,” he said softly, yet it didn’t sound like a request.

Helga glanced briefly at him, meeting the eyes of the man who now looked much calmer than before. She nodded obediently, though her heart resisted. Then she walked upstairs, her steps light but her thoughts heavy.

Once Helga disappeared behind the stairs, Zean turned to one of his friends who hadn’t left yet.

The man, Ruben, leaned casually against the living room wall, arms crossed. “So, what exactly are you planning with that girl?”

Zean walked slowly to the minibar, poured a glass of bourbon, and drank it without speaking.

“Why? Do you want her? Didn’t you touch her earlier?” Zean asked sarcastically, his gaze sharp.

Ruben laughed and then gave a faint smile. “You’re too protective for a newlywed husband. Usually, you don’t meddle in personal matters like this, unless there’s a deeper reason.”

Zean placed his glass on the glass table, then looked at Ruben. “She’s the key. I can’t lose her like before.”

“Before?” Ruben raised an eyebrow, listening more intently.

Zean took a deep breath. His eyes darkened, his voice heavy. “She’s related by blood to someone who once sacrificed everything to save me.”

Ruben fell silent. This was the first time he’d seen a vulnerable side of Zean, the man known for being merciless.

“Helga knows nothing about that, and it must stay that way. For now.”

“And you think making her your wife is the best way?” Ruben mocked.

Zean stared blankly at the stairs. “It’s the only way I can protect her from those who want to use her because she holds a secret.”

“Including us?” Ruben asked, half-joking, half-serious.

Zean gave a crooked smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “If necessary, even from you.”

The night grew later. Upstairs, Helga stood behind the bedroom door, faintly hearing their conversation. She couldn’t catch every word, but enough to know Zean was keeping something far bigger than what appeared on the surface.

And she, it turned out, was not just the mafia’s wife.

She was part of an old story slowly coming back to life.

Helga was silent, wordless. Wondering why her life wasn’t getting better, only darker. Escaping her father’s abuse, she was now trapped in Zean’s dark world. A mafia figure whose danger she couldn’t yet measure. But one thing was certain, what lay ahead wouldn’t be easy.

“How am I supposed to get through this?” Helga thought, leaning against the tightly closed bedroom door. Her hand crept up to touch the pendant necklace she wore, then she closed her eyes as if it were a talisman.

After standing there for a long while and changing into her nightgown, Helga chose to sit on the edge of the bed, hugging her knees, wrapped in the thin fabric of her sleepwear. The lights were dimmed. Silence filled the room. Only the ticking clock on the wall could be heard soft yet piercing.

The bedroom door opened. Zean entered soundlessly, glancing briefly at Helga before placing his phone on the table.

Helga didn’t move.

“You’re not asleep?” Zean’s voice was quiet but flat, like speaking to the night breeze.

“I was waiting,” Helga answered softly.

Zean looked at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Waiting for what?”

“An explanation. Or at least, a little warmth,” Helga said, her eyes staring blankly at the floor. “You chose me to be your wife, but you’ve never given me the chance to feel like, someone who matters.”

Zean didn’t answer right away. He walked slowly to the window, pulled the curtains slightly open, and looked at the darkness outside.

“You don’t need to feel important. You just need to be safe,” Zean finally said, cold, but with a faint trace of bitterness in his tone.

Helga looked at his back. “Has this all been just about safety? Protecting me without letting me know why?”

Zean closed his eyes briefly. “If you knew everything, you wouldn’t sleep tonight. And I don’t want that to happen.”

Helga stood, approaching him. “I haven’t been able to sleep since the first day I came to this house, Zean.”

He turned to her. Their eyes met. There was a different fire in Helga’s gaze, not just fear, but also hurt and hope.

Zean sighed, stepping slowly toward her. His large hand lifted Helga’s face, gently touching her chin.

“I don’t know how to be gentle, Helga. My world didn’t teach me that.”

Helga held her breath. Zean’s voice was softer than before, almost a confession.

“But I can learn, if you stay.”

For the first time, Zean’s hands didn’t grip or push. He simply held Helga’s fingers, warm, hesitant.

Helga closed her eyes. “I just want to know am I here because you chose me, or because something forced you?”

Zean stared at her for a long time. “You’re here because I can’t bear to lose you a second time. Even though I don’t know how to treat you right.”

That one sentence hit Helga’s chest harder than any shout could. She knew, it was the most honest form of affection from a man like Zean.

“What do you mean?” Helga’s tone demanded, her eyes locking on his face. “Lose me a second time?” she repeated his earlier words.

Zean exhaled sharply, letting go of her face. “You don’t need to know,” he said, turning away.

But it was too late Helga moved in front of him, blocking his view.

“I don’t want to be the fool here who knows nothing, Young master,” she said sharply.

Zean scoffed at Helga’s sudden show of courage.

“So tell me, what are you hiding?” Helga asked, her gaze now fierce.

It seemed Zean had caged a girl skilled at acting. Moments ago, Helga had looked fragile, like a weak woman with no courage, who would simply obey her husband’s every word. But no, Helga was unpredictable.

“You think I’d just stay quiet after hearing that conversation at dinner earlier? Maybe to you all I’m stupid. But I’m smart enough to understand the flow,” Helga said honestly.

Zean finally looked at her. Her beautiful face was, in truth, a wound to him.

“So, you’re not stupid, huh?” Zean said coldly.

“No,” Helga replied, slightly challenging him. She even crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her chin. “I just need time to adjust. Besides, those friends of yours, damn them!” she said without fear.

There was anger in Helga, feeling as if she would become someone’s plaything, when in reality, to Zean, she was someone who needed protection.

“In that case, you’d better prepare yourself if you truly want to know. Be ready, because what you’ll receive is no small thing,” Zean said.

Helga stayed silent, letting Zean leave her to go into the bathroom and change clothes.

But Zean, Helga thought, was cold. Guarded. But not a liar.

“Full of secrets,” she added, exhaling harshly.

Choosing to ignore Zean, Helga walked to the bed and threw herself onto the large mattress, lying face down. But before Zean could come out of the bathroom and scold her, she changed her position properly and continued trying to sleep without wanting to be disturbed.

Zean came out of the bathroom shortly after and saw Helga already lying down, though he knew she wasn’t fully asleep yet. He walked to the other side of the bed, lifted the blanket, and lay down beside her.

That night, they didn’t touch beyond holding hands and exchanging glances. But that was the beginning of a bond slowly growing between fear, old wounds, and restrained desire.