Behind The Mask

Zara's POV

Beep. Straight to voicemail again.

I stared at my screen, my thumb hovering, heart heavy. For weeks now, I’d been trying to reach Cassian, my boyfriend. My everything... or so I thought.

If he were hurt, I’d understand. If he were dead, I’d know. But he was alive and active, liking photos, posting cryptic quotes, showing off those cars and expensive wristwatches on social media. So he ghosted me?

A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it down and tossed the phone into my bag. The subway ride to work blurred by, the usual screeching rails and stale air doing nothing to shake the growing unease clawing at my chest.

As I stepped into daylight, my feet fell into their routine rhythm, the ten-minute walk to my restaurant. The only place I own, and I'm determined to grow it into an empire.

Ahead, a blur of yellow vests and dust clouds choked the morning air, my footsteps slowed, and my breath hitched. The street smelled of cement and ruin, they were demolishing my restaurant. My legs suddenly moved on their own, sprinting toward the scene.

“Stop! What the hell are you doing?! STOP!” I shouted, coughing on the dust as I fought my way through the chaos.

A man in a hard hat, the site supervisor maybe, stepped in front of me. His grip was firm as he caught my arm mid-lunge.

“Who the hell are you?” he snapped.

“I should be asking you that!” I spat, yanking my arm free. “I’m Zara. This is my restaurant!”

“Was,” he said coldly.

That single word knocked the breath out of me. He turned, reached into the front seat of a dusty pickup, and shoved a manila folder into my hands.

My fingers trembled as I fumbled it open. Legal print blurred behind my stinging eyes. I flipped through pages until my gaze landed on a name: Transfer of Ownership to Cassian Blackwell.

My signature stared back at me, undeniably mine, but I never signed this. A chill ran through me, my heart pounded against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

Cassian hadn’t just ghosted me, he’d stolen everything. With trembling fingers, I yanked my phone from my bag and dialed Cassian. The man I trusted. The man whose name was now stamped across a document that gutted my world. I held my breath, praying he’d answer this time.

Beep. Voicemail. Each ring pierced deeper than the last until all that echoed in my ear was that robotic voice: “Please leave a message…”

I turned to the man, my voice cracking like glass. “Please, sir. There has to be some kind of mistake. Just… just give me a minute to fix this.”

He didn’t even look at me. His attention had already shifted to a clipboard, as if I were invisible.

I stumbled away, heart pounding, and flagged down an Uber. The moment I slid into the backseat, my nails tapped relentlessly against my thigh, matching the erratic beat of my pulse. The city blurred past the windows. I barely saw it, my mind was screaming.

Cassian had better have a damn good explanation. He was my boyfriend for six months, he’d whispered promises and poured wine. He’d offered to invest in the restaurant, my dream. Never once did he mention owning it or destroying it.

The car pulled up to the gates of his high-rise in Hudson Yards, a sleek monument of glass and steel. I marched up to the iron gate, banging hard, peering through the bars like a desperate woman looking for her child.

Finally, a security guard emerged. “Can I help you?”

“I need to see Cassian. It’s urgent,” I said, nearly breathless.

He shook his head slowly. “Mr. Cassian hasn’t been around for a while. Maybe try calling him.”

“I have!” The words tore from my throat. I caught myself, inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry… I just… Please. Do you know where he is?”

The guard didn’t flinch. “No, ma’am. Have a nice day.”

The gate clanged shut, final as a coffin lid. I stood there, frozen. I slowly began pacing the sidewalk, gripping my head, my breaths shallow and quick.

What the hell was going on? My boyfriend has disappeared, my restaurant and all my savings are gone. My phone rang. I scrambled for it inside my bag, heart skipping, Cassian?

But no, it was Raina, my best friend. Still, I reached to answer, hope flickering. Just as I was about to swipe the screen, the phone slipped from my fingers and clattered to the pavement. I was dizzy, everything tilted, the world around me spun in sickening circles.

I crouched, trying to find my phone, my hands sweeping blindly over the concrete. My vision dimmed, the edges of my world going soft and dark. My knees buckled and I was about to collapse, when strong arms grabbed me.

“Miss, are you okay?” A deep voice asked.

I tried to speak, but my tongue felt heavy. The only thing I registered before everything went dark was the scent, rich, expensive, and devastatingly masculine. Then blackness.

***

I blinked awake, the sterile white of a hospital ceiling staring back at me, a soft beeping echoed from machines nearby. This room isn’t public healthcare, the floors gleamed, the sheets were crisp. My pulse spiked, and I bolted upright. How can I afford this?

A nurse entered, a gentle smile on her face. “You’re awake,” she said brightly.

I didn’t bother asking what was wrong with me, that wasn’t the priority for me.

“How much is the bill?” I blurted out.

Her smile softened. “Don’t worry about that. The man who brought you in covered everything.”

I blinked, stunned. “He… what?”

Something in me stilled, grateful, suspicious and curious. “Please where is he? I want to thank him,” I said.

“He left as soon as the doctors said you were stable,” the nurse replied, already checking my vitals. “Didn’t say much, and didn't leave a name either.”

My brows furrowed. No name? In this world, where people only give to get, what kind of man saves a stranger and disappears without a trace? The nurse smiled gently, as if she were offering good news.

“He just wanted you and the baby to be safe,” she said.

Baby? The words echoed in my head, bouncing around like static in a storm.

“What?” I breathed.

She tilted her head, brows lifting in surprise. “You didn’t know you’re pregnant?”

“This… this has to be a mistake,” I stammered. “Nurse, this is a joke, right? Some… bizarre way to cheer me up?”

Her expression softened with sympathy. “No. You’re three months along. I thought you knew.”

Three months? My heart stopped, then thundered back to life in my ears. I couldn’t move or think. I sat there frozen, the weight of those two words pressing on my chest like a boulder. My phone buzzed violently on the bedside table, shattering the silence.

“Oh, and your phone’s been ringing nonstop since this morning,” the nurse said, glancing at it.

I looked up at the clock, past 4pm. I’d lost an entire day. With shaking hands, I grabbed the phone and answered, before I could say a word, Raina’s voice came through, frantic and cracking with emotion.

“Zara… have you seen the news?”