Chapter 5

“Oh, Zara? One last thing.” Diana lingered in the elevator doorway, her smile sweet as poisoned honey. “Do be careful who you trust. Some people marry for love… some for money… and some? They’re just pawns in a game they don’t even know they’re playing yet.”

The doors slid shut. Ding. Gone. But her words hung there, sharp and cold, pricking my skin like needles.

I turned to Caelum, my heart hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears. “She knew my name. She said ‘finally’ — like she’s been waiting for me to show up.” My voice cracked. “Caelum… what if none of this was an accident? What if she arranged for me to crash into you that morning?”

His face hardened — jaw tight, eyes blazing with something fierce. He stepped closer, hands coming up like he wanted to reach for me but stopped himself, afraid I’d pull away.

“Zara — look at me.” His voice was low, steady, burning with conviction. “If Diana had anything to do with you walking into that lobby… if she so much as breathed a word to put you in my path… I will burn every single thing she’s built to the ground. I don’t care what it costs. I don’t care who sees. No one uses you. Not her. Not anyone.”

Oh. Oh wow. My throat tightened so much I could barely breathe. This wasn’t just protecting an investment. This was him. And it hit me — hard and warm and terrifying — that I was starting to matter to him. And that he was starting to matter to me.

“Okay,” I whispered, my eyes stinging. “Okay. I believe you.”

He exhaled, ragged and relieved, and for a heartbeat his hand brushed mine — light, tentative, like he was asking permission. Then he pulled back, clearing his throat. “We… we need to keep going. The review. We can’t let her throw us off.”

 

The rest of the morning was equal parts funny and heartbreaking. We sat at the kitchen table, covered in scribbled notes, trying to memorize a fake relationship while feeling things that were way too real.

“Okay,” I said, tapping the paper. “First date. Where?”

“La Rosa,” he said without looking up. “Italian place downtown. Tuesday night. I wore a navy suit. You laughed at my wine order.”

I blinked. “I did?”

“You said — and I quote — ‘You’re ordering the cheapest bottle on the menu? And here I thought billionaires were supposed to be flashy.’” He glanced at me, a tiny, reluctant smile tugging at his mouth. “I remember.”

My face went hot. “I would never — okay, actually, yeah. That sounds exactly like something I’d say.” I grinned despite myself. “Did you tell me I had terrible taste?”

“I told you I was being practical. And then you ordered sparkling water and said ‘Fine. I’ll drink something that doesn’t cost more than my rent.’” He actually chuckled — a low, warm sound that made my chest feel light and bright. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

Oh no. I looked away fast, blinking back sudden tears. Why did that hit so hard? Why did his remembering a fake conversation feel more real than anything Soren ever said to me in eighteen months?

“Zara?”

“Nothing,” I said, swiping at my eyes like I was just brushing away dust. “Just… you remember all that?”

He was quiet a moment. “I’ve replayed that morning in the lobby a hundred times. Every word. Every look. The way you held your head up even though your eyes were red.” His voice softened. “I remember everything about you, Zara. Even the things I shouldn’t.”

Gahhhh why does he do this to me?! I swallowed hard, fighting a completely ridiculous lump in my throat. “We… we should keep going. What about —”

My phone buzzed. Unknown number. Again.

Ask him about the messages. He’s hiding it. He received one four weeks ago — same warning. And he didn’t tell you.

I stared at the screen. Four weeks ago. Before we met. Before anything.

“Zara?” Caelum leaned forward, concerned. “What is it?”

I looked up at him — really looked. Those grey eyes that held so much, the watch on his wrist, the man who’d knelt down for my papers. The man who remembered every word I’d said.

And I thought: If he’s lying… if he’s been in on this from the start… I don’t think I could bear it.

“Zara?”

I took a breath that shook all the way down. “Caelum. Have you received any… strange messages lately? From unknown numbers?”

Silence.

His expression shifted — not guilt, exactly. Something deeper. Sadness, maybe. Resignation.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “Three weeks ago. Right after my fiancée left.”

My heart dropped. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t know what to make of it. It said… it said someone was going to send someone to me. Someone real. And I should watch carefully.” He met my gaze, raw and honest. “I thought it was a cruel prank. Or Diana, messing with my head. I didn’t believe it. Until you walked in.”

The air left the room.

“You thought I was the warning?” My voice cracked. “You thought I was… sent to you?”

“At first.” He stood, pacing, agitated. “But then I talked to you. And I realized — whoever sent that message… they didn’t just send anyone. They sent you. And I don’t know if that’s a gift or a trap.”

I stood up too, trembling, tears spilling over now and I didn’t even try to stop them. “So you thought I was… planted. Used. And you married me anyway?”

“Because I wanted you!” It burst out of him, loud and desperate, like he couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Because even if it was a trap… even if you were sent to ruin me… I looked at you and I thought — I don’t care. I’d rather be destroyed by you than spend another day alone with nothing but work and silence and people who want something from me.”

Oh God. I was crying now — properly, shoulders shaking, hot tears running down. Not from sadness. From something so big it felt like it might burst out of my chest.

“Caelum…”

“I know it’s insane.” He ran a hand through his hair, breathless. “I know I should have stayed away. But you looked at me like I was a person. Not a title. Not a fortune. And I couldn’t…” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I couldn’t walk away.”

I stepped toward him before I even decided to — closing the space between us, reaching out to touch his arm. His skin was warm, trembling.

“I walked into that lobby because I was desperate,” I whispered. “I had nothing. And you offered me everything. And I was so scared it was too good to be true.” I looked up into his eyes. “But you remembered my jokes. And you made sure I was safe. And you gave me a home when I had nowhere to go.”

“Zara…”

“I don’t know who sent that message.” My voice steadied, fierce and sure. “But I know who I am. And I didn’t come here to trap you. I came here because my life fell apart and you were the first person who didn’t make me feel small.”

He stared at me, and slowly — so slowly — his hands came up to cup my face. His thumbs brushed away my tears, gentle as anything.

“You are the bravest person I’ve ever met,” he said, thick and quiet. “And I’m so afraid I’m going to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” I said, leaning into his hands. “Just… don’t keep things from me. Promise?”

“Promise.” He rested his forehead against mine, and for a moment we just breathed the same air, close enough to feel each other’s warmth. “No more secrets.”

Then — buzz buzz — my phone went off again. Same number.

How sweet. But tell him this: Diana isn’t the only one playing. And the truth you’re looking for? It’s buried in his past. Ask him why his father really died.

I pulled back, gasping. Caelum saw my face and grabbed the phone, reading over my shoulder. The color drained from his face. He stepped away like he’d been burned.

“Caelum?” My stomach twisted. “What does that mean?”

He turned away, staring out the window at the city, his shoulders tight with tension I hadn’t seen before.

“My father’s death was an accident,” he said. But his voice didn’t sound sure. “That’s what everyone said.”

“Caelum…”

He looked back at me, and his eyes were haunted. “But I never believed it.”