Chapter 4

Zara blinked, her steps faltering as she entered the kitchen and caught sight of Regan—bare-chested, sweatpants hanging low on his waist, his muscular frame bent over the water dispenser as he filled a glass. The silver jug shimmered beneath the fluorescent light, but all she could focus on was the stranger in her house. Again.

He looked up briefly, their eyes locking for half a second before he turned away, cool and unbothered. Not a single word. Not even a nod. Just silence.

Zara’s brows furrowed in confusion and mild irritation as she backed away and turned down the corridor, storming toward her mother’s room.

“Mummy,” she called, pushing open the half-closed door. “Why is Regan in our kitchen?”

Mrs. Tunde looked up from where she was folding a wrapper. “Because he’s staying here, Zara.”

Zara blinked. “Staying? As in… sleeping over?”

Her mother sighed. “Yes. The Kareems are spending the weekend here. Both families agreed. We’re going to start planning the engagement, and this will give us all time to talk and bond properly.”

“You didn’t think it was important to tell me that the man you people are forcing me to marry is going to be under the same roof with me?” Zara’s voice rose in disbelief.

“Zara, it’s not that deep—”

“It is that deep, mummy! This house is supposed to be my only escape. Now I can’t even walk freely without bumping into him? Are you kidding me?”

Her mother’s face hardened. “Watch your tone, Zara.”

Zara’s lips quivered with pent-up frustration. “This is ridiculous. You’re all just going ahead with plans like I’m not even human.”

Turning on her heel, she stormed out and made her way back to her room, slamming the door shut. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest, but she was barely seated when she heard a soft knock.

She ignored it.

Another knock came, firmer this time.

“What?!” she barked.

The door creaked open and Regan stepped in, now wearing a T-shirt. He closed the door behind him with the same quiet confidence that always irritated her.

“What are you doing in my room?” she snapped.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned against the door and crossed his arms. “You’ve made it very clear you’re not happy about this marriage. Trust me, neither am I.”

Zara blinked, surprised. “So what’s your point?”

“I’m proposing a deal.”

She squinted at him, suspicious. “What kind of deal?”

“We pretend to cooperate—for our parents’ sake. They get their engagement, we play along until the wedding, and once we’re officially married, we do our thing quietly. No drama. No mess. Just… peace. You live your life, I live mine.”

Zara crossed her arms. “That’s funny. Because I already have my own plan in motion.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Let me guess… modeling?”

Her mouth parted slightly.

Regan smiled faintly. “You should learn to close your door when making top-secret calls, Zara.”

Her heart skipped. He heard…?

He turned, hand on the knob, but paused to glance over his shoulder. His eyes held that same unreadable calm, but this time, there was a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“Don’t forget your shoot with Kemi tonight,” he said smoothly. Then he winked.

Click.

He was gone.

And just like that, the air in the room shifted. Tension, secrets, and an unspoken war now brewed silently between them.