CHAPTER 2: Run

ZARIA POV

Who did I just sleep with?

I looked at the stranger's face, and suddenly all I could think was, this wasn't my husband. Not even close.

For one frozen second, my body refused to move. My heart slammed hard enough to hurt, each beat loud in my ears, drowning everything else out.

Then instinct took over.

Run

I slipped out from under his arm slowly, carefully, holding my breath as if even that might wake him. His grip loosened in his sleep, but not completely—like even unconscious, he didn’t want to let go.

My pulse spiked.

I forced myself away anyway. 

My legs threatened to give out, but I locked my knees and forced myself upright.

Clothes. Where were my clothes? 

I reached for my dress in the front seat, my fingers fumbling only once before I forced them steady. The zipper caught halfway up. I dragged it higher anyway, breathing tight, movements quick but controlled.

Move. Just move.

I eased the car door open. Cold morning air slapped my face. I stepped out onto the quiet street, heels in one hand, and closed the door with a soft click that sounded too loud.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Then I remembered six weeks ago. Father’s study, that smell of old books and cigars.

“You have one job, Zaria.” His voice had been calm, like he was carving out pieces of my life. He folded his hands on the desk like this was another business deal to him. “Produce a Voss heir. Do that and your mother’s inheritance is yours.”

My throat tightened.

“And if I don’t?”

His gaze lifted to mine, cold and absolute.

“I keep everything.”

I had sat there in that stiff chair, staring at the photograph of my mother I kept hidden in my phone case. Her smile. The one that used to make the whole room feel warmer.

One job.

The wedding flashed next—Ethan standing beside me like a statue, eyes on anything but me. His mother’s cool appraisal slid over my body like I was property being valued. Mirelle is in the third row, smiling wide enough to show every tooth, and Rowan is beside her, already watching everything.

I kept walking down the unfamiliar street, bare feet stinging on cold pavement, until I slipped my heels back on. Back straight. Face empty.

I had done everything right.

So how—

My chest tightened.

How was that not him?

I swallowed hard, forcing the thought down before it could take root.

It didn’t matter.

It couldn’t matter.

What was done was done.

I pulled out my phone and ordered a car. The ride back to the Voss estate felt longer than it should have.

I kept my gaze fixed on the window, watching the city wake up like nothing had happened. Like my entire life hadn’t just shifted sideways.

My hands stayed folded tightly in my lap.

Don’t think about it.

Don’t replay it.

Don’t—

His voice slipped in anyway.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for something like this.”

My stomach twisted.

I pressed my fingers harder together until the feeling dulled.

When we pulled up to the gates, the sky was just starting to lighten. I slipped through the side entrance before the staff began their rounds, shoes silent on the marble floors.

My room felt colder than usual. Just a bed, a wardrobe, and the weight of a marriage that had never been real. I sat on the edge of the mattress, dress still wrinkled from the night before, and let my shoulders drop for one second.

My phone buzzed.

Father.

Seven in the morning.

I stared at his name until the screen went dark. Then I dialed the only person who wouldn’t make me feel like I was drowning alone.

One ring.

“Zaria?” Nala’s voice came out bright and sleepy. “It’s seven in the morning. Someone better be dead.”

“Nala.”

Just her name. That was all it took.

A pause. She knew that tone. “Talk to me.”

I closed my eyes, words tumbling out messy and raw. “I did it. Last night. The car. The plan. But… it wasn’t him, Nala. It wasn’t Ethan.”

Silence on the other end. Rare for her.

I kept going, my voice low. “I woke up next to a man I’ve never seen before. His hands, his scent, the way he… everything was wrong. But I convinced myself it was the drug. I told myself it was fine. I had to. And now—”

“Okay,” she cut in softly, the cheer gone from her voice. “So you slept with a stranger. In your husband’s car.”

“Yes.”

“And you have no idea who he is.”

“No.”

Another long silence. Then, “Zaria, babes. Only you.”

A cracked sound escaped me. Almost a laugh. Almost. My throat burned. “I buried it. I have to. There’s no other way. The inheritance… my mother’s money. If I don’t produce a Voss heir, he keeps it all. And Ethan barely looks at me. This was supposed to fix everything.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “I know why you did it. Just… breathe for me, okay? You’re back at the house now?”

“Yeah. In my room. Pretending nothing happened.”

“Good. That’s what you do best. Pretend. Until you can’t anymore.” Her voice softened. “You’re not alone in this. Whatever comes next, we figure it out. But right now? Lock it down. You’ve survived worse.”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “I know.”

We stayed on the line a moment longer. Her breathing was steady on the other end. Mine is still shaky. Then I ended the call and set the phone down.

That was when I noticed it.

A small mark on the back of my hand. Faint. The shape of fingers. A grip that had held me like I mattered. My stomach dropped.

I stared at it, thumb brushing over the spot.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Movement downstairs. Voices.

I stood slowly and moved to the door, cracking it open just enough.

Mirelle stood in the entrance hall below, seven-thirty in the morning, uninvited. My mother-in-law was already smiling at her like an old friend, gesturing warmly.

Mirelle looked up, as if she could feel my eyes on her.

Our gazes locked across the landing.

She smiled, slow and knowing.

“Good morning, darling. You look tired.”

My fingers tightened on the door.

Something in her expression shifted—subtle, almost playful.

Then she added, softer this time—

“Rough night?”

My blood ran cold.