Chapter 5: The Angel I Don't Know

“I agree this was a mistake. I’m sorry I made you lie. I’m sorry I—”

“Stop that,” he growls. “Stop apologizing for everything.”

My heart is hammering. The vibration from the elevator feels like it’s coming from my chest. The ride feels too long. I wonder when the doors will open. No one is getting in from any of the floors.

Zayn is too close. I can smell him—dark cologne, smoke. If he’s a killer, I have to act right. Not provoke him. But he can’t be a killer. Can he? He doesn’t look like one. Then again, neither did Daniel.

“I’ve never met you,” I say carefully. “Who are you? You’re not here to kill me, are you? Did Daniel hire you?”

He actually recoils like I’m the weird one, his brows pinched together. Then he laughs. He reaches out, not to grab me but to tuck a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. His fingers graze my cheek. I shiver from his touch. He steps away from me, standing across the elevator room.

“Six years ago. Callowell University. The library, third floor,” he says softly. “You tripped over a stack of law books. Your coffee spilled over a blazer.”

What the… how could I forget? The memory slams into me. I’d been in a rush. I’d tripped. I’d apologized to someone I never looked at. I remember the heat flooding my face, the way I muttered sorry ten times in a row before fleeing.

“That was you?” I whisper. He nods. My cheeks burn. I close my eyes, willing myself invisible. “But… that was just a second. How do you still remember that?”

Zayn doesn’t answer. The elevator dings. Doors slide open. My pulse spikes. We step into his suite. The door clicks shut behind me with the dramatic finality of my poor decision. I immediately realize I’m stupid and brave to be here with him. All alone. Still, I don't want to go out there. I know Daniel. He might be waiting for me in the lobby.

I glance around. The room is large and occupied with Zayn’s belongings. His laptop, with some papers neatly arranged on the table. This means he’s been here even before I entered the picture.

Am I an inconvenience? I wonder.

He pours two fingers of whiskey into a crystal tumbler and hands it to me. “Drink,” he says. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”

“What makes you think that?” I sound defensive.

His gaze drags slowly over me. Fuck! The damn dress. The smeared makeup. He sits, gesturing for me to take the seat beside him.

“I’m guessing your wedding didn't go as planned,” he continues. “Wanna talk about it?”

I sit on the chair opposite him and take a sip. The liquid burns my throat, but it grounds me. I look at him. He doesn't look like he’s suffering. Yet, he looks like he’s suffering. He’s strange. The way he carries himself. I rule out ‘killer’ from my suspicions. A high-end escort? Maybe a struggling model or actor?

What am I thinking? This is wrong. But why else would he be hanging around a luxury hotel lobby looking for a challenge?

“Why did you help me?”

Zayn shrugs. He takes a sip. “I told you. I like a challenge. And you looked like you were about to drown in that lobby.”

This is madness. I check the time. My heart is still erratic. “I have a room here. I should go. Thank you, Zayn. Really.”

He doesn't stop me. He doesn't even say a word. I set the glass down and walk toward the heavy oak door. I take a deep breath, pulling the door open. My heart stops.

“Daniel?”

The son of a bitch is sitting on the floor. He looks pathetic. His tie and buttons are undone. He looks up at me. And a slow, twisted smirk spread across his face.

“I knew it,” he rasps, standing up quickly. “I knew you were full of it, Jade.”

“You’re full of it,” I shoot back.

“That’s why I waited. I knew if I stayed here long enough, I’d catch the cracks in your little performance downstairs.”

He lunges forward, grabbing the edge of the door before I can slam it. “Where’s your fake husband? Did he kick you out already? Or did you realize you can't replace me with some random gigolo?”

“I was going to the bar to get us more ice!” I snap, my voice trembling with fake bravado. “Get away from me, Daniel!”

“The bar? When did you start telling lies? Very unnecessary, terrible lies at that. You're coming home with me. Right fucking now.”

He grabs my wrist. I panic. But not for long. Zayn materializes behind me and shoves Daniel with one hand, sending him stumbling back and falling flat on his butt. Then he slams the door shut. I’m still stunned, unable to move. My back is pressing against something—Zayn’s body. I can feel his warmth like a blanket.

THUD.

Daniel bangs his fist against the door from the outside. God! He’s sick.

“Jade? Baby? I’m not leaving! You’ve been kidnapped. I’ll wait here all night if I have to! You're my wife! You belong to me!”

“Well, it seems your Houdini ain’t going anywhere,” Zayn says.

I turn around, feeling trapped. His gaze lowers and catches mine. He looks completely unbothered by the madman screaming in the hallway. His lips twitch into a soft smile.

Zayn’s my only shield. If I walk out there Daniel will drag me back to that life I’m trying to escape. He’ll put me back to the poison, the surgery, the inevitable death sentence. I can’t let that happen.

“Zayn,” I mumble his name like a prayer. “Marry me.”

He stills. I swear the temperature in the room drops even lower. I can't believe I just said that to him. What am I doing? This is insane.

“Pardon?”

“A contract,” the words tumble out of my mouth. “One year. That’s all I need. If we’re legally married, Daniel can't touch me. He’ll have no claim. My family will have to back off. Just one year of pretending to be my husband.”

“And what’s in it for me? I’m a busy man, Jade.”

I look at him pityingly. He’s probably struggling to pay for this very room until he lands his next desperate sugar mama. “I know you’re... between jobs. Or whatever this is. If you do this for me—if you protect me for three hundred and sixty-five days—I’ll pay you. When the year is over and my... my inheritance kicks in... I’ll give you twelve million dollars. A million for every month you stay with me until I get my revenge.”

A strange shadow crosses Zayn's face.

“Revenge? I didn't know you wanted revenge.”

“Yes. I do,” I say, not holding back. “My fiancé and best friend betrayed me. My family betrayed me too. And for what? Money. They plan to…” I stop as the memories of my unfortunate future flick through my mind. “…they plan to kill me and claim my trust fund.”

I find it hard to believe I trust a complete stranger enough to tell him all these. But I don’t mention I had already been to the future and died. I don't tell him I was given a second chance to rewrite my fate. Or that I have a year to uncover the truth and make my family, Barbara, and Daniel pay for their cruelty.

For a second, I think Zayn’s going to laugh. But he doesn’t. His jaw clenches instead. He lowers himself to my height. Stares deep into my eyes. I’m uneasy and almost lose my footing.

His lips are inches from mine mirroring the kiss from the lobby—but this time, there is no audience. He doesn't say a word. Maybe he’s not convinced of my plan.

“Twelve million is a lot of money. You could buy a house, a car... you'd be set. You could even start a business if you want.”

He’s scanning my face as if searching for a punchline. Then, the corner of his lips curl.

“You want me to pretend to be your husband for just a year for twelve million?” He touches his chest, feigning to be hurt. “I swear I can go longer than that for more money.”

I almost roll my eyes. The money definitely caught his interest. Men are just so fucking greedy. I’m beginning to detest them. “A year is fine.”

“That works,” he replies calmly. “I’ll be the perfect husband. Besides, I also need a wife.”

My ears perk. “What do you mean?”

“I need to get someone off my back. She’s been hanging on for far too long. It’s getting pretty annoying and tiring.”

Typical! He’s a Playboy escort.

“I’m offering you a deal. We both help each other and deal with our problems until they’re solved. I won’t accept your money. You can keep it.”

My eyes widen in disbelief.

“But remember,” he proceeds. “Once you invite the devil into your home, you don't get to ask him to leave until the contract is up.” He stretches his hand forward. “Deal?”

I look at the countdown on my wrist. 365 days. I can’t do this alone. I’m a walking corpse according to Daniel. I’m literally a ticking time bomb. But with this man... I could be a ghost that haunts them. I reach out and place my hand in his.

“Deal.”

He pulls back. A chillingly beautiful smile graces his face. “Now, stay here. I’ll go handle the trash in the hallway.”

He walks toward the door. I turn to watch him go. For the first time, I notice the way he moves like he’s used to being obeyed. A strange mix of relief and terror settles in my gut.

I’ve saved myself from Daniel. But looking at Zayn’s back, I realize I might have just jumped from the frying pan into a much hotter fire. What if he’s not a poor man I can buy?

But as he opens the door and the hallway goes silent at the mere sight of him, I start to wonder... who did I just hire?