Chapter Eight: Unseen

The knock came again.

Sharp.

Impatient.

"Leila."

Zane.

Her heart tightened.

She immediately grabbed the phone.

Locked the screen.

Shoved it beneath the pillow.

Then took a deep breath.

Another.

And another.

By the time she reached the door, her expression was almost normal.

Almost.

She opened it.

Zane stood outside.

His arm was wrapped in bandages.

His face showed no sign of the chaos that had happened less than twenty-four hours ago.

For one second, Leila thought he knew.

That he knew about the message.

That he knew she was hiding something.

Then he walked inside.

The door closed behind him.

And suddenly, the room felt smaller.

---

Zane knew immediately something was wrong.

The moment she opened the door.

The moment their eyes met.

Something had changed.

Leila was angry most of the time.

Annoyed almost all the time.

But this wasn't either of those.

For a split second, her gaze moved toward the bed.

Toward the pillow.

Then back to him.

Too fast.

Too deliberate.

She was hiding something.

The realization irritated him.

Exactly what he didn't need.

Another unknown variable.

Another risk.

The attack at the mall had already complicated everything.

Someone knew his location.

Someone knew his schedule.

Someone had planned everything perfectly.

Now the woman involved in his mission stood before him, hiding something.

Coincidence?

Maybe.

But Zane Rogers had survived by never assuming the best.

Trust was expensive.

And mistakes were deadly.

His eyes moved toward the pillow again.

Whatever she was hiding, she clearly didn't want him to know.

The logical decision was simple.

Send her away.

End the arrangement.

Remove the risk.

But somehow, the thought bothered him more than it should.

She was still here.

Inside his mission.

Inside his house.

And somehow—

Inside his thoughts, more often than she had any right to be.

That was a problem.

A distraction.

And distractions got people killed.

A mistake.

One he intended to correct.

---

Leila folded her arms.

"You said I was leaving tomorrow."

Zane remained silent.

Her eyes narrowed.

"So why are you here?"

Still nothing.

"Or do billionaires enjoy delivering bad news twice?"

His jaw tightened.

There it was.

The attitude.

The complete lack of fear.

She never seemed to understand who she was speaking to.

And somehow that annoyed him almost as much as it fascinated him.

"You talk too much."

Leila laughed.

Wrong move.

A very wrong move.

Zane crossed the room.

Fast.

The laughter disappeared immediately.

He stopped directly in front of her.

Close.

Too close.

Close enough to hear her breathing change.

Close enough to see the uncertainty she tried so hard to hide.

His hand landed against the wall beside her head.

Not touching her.

But trapping her anyway.

The room went silent.

"You have no idea what kind of danger you're standing in."

For the first time since meeting him, Leila hesitated.

Only for a second.

Then she lifted her chin.

"Then tell me."

His expression hardened.

"What are you hiding?"

Her eyes widened slightly.

"No... nothing."

The answer came too quickly.

And Zane noticed.

Of course, he noticed.

His gaze stayed on her.

Studying.

Searching.

Leila hated how easily he could make her lose her confidence.

"You keep saying that."

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The tension stretched between them.

Leila tried looking away.

But his attention never left her.

She pushed against his space.

Forced distance between them.

For the first time, something close to amusement appeared on his face.

"Didn't know you couldn't handle pressure for long."

The comment annoyed her instantly.

Before she could respond, he reached into his jacket.

Pulled out a check.

Ten million dollars.

Her promised payment.

He held it out.

Leila stared.

She didn't move.

Didn't take it.

Several seconds passed.

Still nothing.

Something unreadable crossed his expression.

Fine.

If she refused to take it—

He walked to the table.

Placed the check down.

"Tomorrow."

His voice turned cold.

"You're leaving."

Leila's eyes widened.

Then narrowed.

"Fine."

The answer bothered him immediately.

She should have argued.

She should have demanded answers.

Instead, she accepted.

And somehow that made him more suspicious.

Maybe she was hiding something connected to the mission.

Maybe she was more involved than he realized.

"Goodnight, Leila."

Without another word, he left.

The door closed.

And only then did Leila realize she had been holding her breath.

---

She stared at the check.

Ten million dollars.

Freedom.

An escape.

Everything she wanted.

So why didn't it feel like a victory?

Her mind returned to the message.

WE KNOW WHERE YOU ARE.

THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING.

Her fingers tightened.

Who sent it?

The attackers?

Someone connected to Zane?

Or someone who knew about the mission before she did?

A cold feeling settled in her stomach.

For the first time, she wondered if the danger wasn't outside.

Maybe it was already inside.

Thirty minutes later, another knock interrupted her thoughts.

This time, it was a bodyguard.

"Miss Leila."

"What now?"

"Mr. Rogers requests your presence at breakfast tomorrow morning."

Leila blinked.

"What?"

"Breakfast. Eight o'clock."

Then he left.

She stared at the closed door.

Confused.

The man was throwing her out.

Yet, I invited her to breakfast.

Nothing about Zane Rogers made sense.

---

The next morning arrived too quickly.

Leila barely slept.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the message.

By eight o'clock, she was already questioning every decision that brought her here.

The dining room was enormous.

A long table.

Floor-to-ceiling windows.

More food than anyone needed.

And sitting at the center—

Zane Rogers.

Leila looked away immediately.

Unfortunately, someone noticed.

Carlos.

A grin appeared on his face.

"Good morning, Miss Leila."

Her memory immediately flashed back to last night.

The wrong door.

The embarrassment.

Carlos laughing.

Her stomach tightened.

She walked toward the table.

Carlos watched her with obvious amusement.

Like he knew exactly how uncomfortable she was.

She sat directly opposite Zane.

A mistake.

Because now she could feel his eyes on her.

Not staring.

Observing.

Like he was trying to figure her out.

A waiter poured coffee.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Carlos ruined the silence.

"So."

Leila looked up.

Carlos pointed his fork at her.

"How many times have you almost died since meeting Zane?"

"Carlos."

"Relax."

He ignored him.

"I'm collecting data."

Leila sighed.

"Twice."

Carlos blinked.

"Already?"

"Carlos."

"That might actually be a record."

Even one of the guards looked amused.

Zane did not.

Leila reached for her coffee.

Then Zane spoke.

"The mission is back on."

The cup nearly slipped from her hand.

"What?"

The room went quiet.

"The charity ball has been postponed."

Zane continued calmly.

"After the attack, security around the target changed."

He looked directly at her.

"The operation requires more time."

Leila stared.

"So yesterday you wanted me gone."

"And today I need you here."

The honesty surprised her.

Zane continued.

"Five million dollars will be added for the extension."

For a second, excitement crossed her face.

Then disappeared.

Because money wasn't the only thing on her mind anymore.

"Convenient."

A dangerous look crossed his face.

But he said nothing.

Carlos leaned back.

"This is wonderful."

Nobody asked why.

He answered anyway.

"I was getting bored."

Leila groaned.

Breakfast continued.

Mostly because Carlos refused to allow silence.

By the time it ended, she was exhausted.

Again.

She stood.

Ready to leave.

Almost free.

"Leila."

She stopped.

Zane.

She turned.

"Golf course."

She blinked.

"What?"

Carlos smiled.

"Oh, this should be interesting."

"I wasn't asking you."

"I know."

Zane looked at Leila.

"Be ready by two."

Another order.

Another command.

She fought the urge to argue.

Then walked away.

Halfway out of the dining room—

Her phone vibrated.

Once.

She froze.

Unknown number.

Slowly, she looked down.

The message appeared.

MAKE THE RIGHT DECISION, MISS LEILA.

Her blood ran cold.

Another message appeared immediately.

THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING.

Then an image loaded.

A photograph.

Taken moments ago.

The dining table.

Zane.

Carlos.

The guards.

And her.

Someone had been watching.

Someone inside the mansion.

Leila stopped breathing.

Because the danger she feared wasn't coming.

It was already there.