All Chapters of MARRIED UNTIL MONDAY: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

ARIA'S POVI woke up groggy. Like I'd been dragged through a field of bricks and grief, with a dash of pharmaceutical aftertaste still coating my tongue.But weirdly... refreshed?Gross.After lying in bed for ten minutes debating whether or not to breathe today, I finally dragged myself to the bathroom. I showered, got dressed, brushed my hair until it stopped looking like a grieving bird’s nest.I even wore actual clothes...not a robe or hoodie or the soft guilt of my past, but something presentable.Because screw Rhea and Kane. And the devil’s circus this house had become.I can’t avoid them forever.I was descending the stairs, muttering mental insults for each step. Step one, Rhea can choke on a bag of burnt lavender potpourri. Step two, Kane can fall off one of his balconies. Step three—okay, maybe I’ll reserve that for Sibil and Zane.But then...I paused.Voices.No, a voice, it was both familiar and sweetly annoying.I leaned over the railing carefully, like a nosy ghost, and

ZANE'S POVI just wanted sleep,okay?, I've had a pretty long day, and definitely didn't need a conversation with anyone and definitely not with Sibil.The key clicked in, the lock gave way, and I stepped into silence. No jazz echoing from the speakers, no fake giggle bouncing off the walls, no Sibil draped across the living room in another overpriced lace as expected.God...fucking peace. For once.I shrugged off my suit jacket, draped it over the armchair, kicked off my shoes like they offended me. Maybe she wasn’t home and maybe the universe decided to do one damn thing right today.But then I heard it—the water running upstairs...the shower.Of course.She’s here and she’s bathing and rehearsing another performance in the mirror.I stared up at the ceiling like it held answers. It didn’t. It just sat there, like the rest of this cold, hollow house.I made my way up anyway, not because I wanted to see her. Just needed a shirt. And maybe to remember what it felt like to live in a spa

KANE'S POV (CONTINUATION)One step, two and now we’re both in it, caught in the beat. Locked into something light, something dumb, something so unlike everything else that defines me.I don’t even realize I’m smiling.For the first time in a long time, I’m not Kane Callahan.I’m…just here. Just a man in a bar, with a girl who laughs too loud and dances like she’s made of glass. And it’s enough.Until—Bang. Then crack..A sound cuts through the music.Then another. Louder. Pop-pop-POP.Bang!My brain doesn’t register it at first. Just a weird disruption in the rhythm. Until the glass behind the bar shatters and bottles explode...screams rise.. panicked, and that’s when it hits me—Gunfire.Bullets...someone’s opening fire."DOWN!" I bark, already reaching for her. My hand wraps around her arm, yanking her hard against me.Crack—CRACK.The windows go next, glass rains down, wood splinters. The front door is getting torn to pieces by whoever’s shooting from the outside in.Aria screams

ZANE'S POVI don’t even remember what I was watching before the news cut in. Some documentary maybe but it was all background noise. The kind I need to keep from thinking too much. But the moment I heard the words "Callahan" and "shooting" in the same sentence, the whole room went still.The screen flashed, showed Kane’s face with blood on his shirt. Aria beside him wrapped in a blanket like some fragile thing that needed protecting. The perfect goddamn picture.And suddenly, I could hear nothing but static."He’s really doing the most now" Sibil said somewhere behind me, her voice too calm. "Drama queen Kane. He should’ve gone into acting."I didn’t respond. Just sat there with my hands steepled in front of my mouth, trying not to let my jaw lock from how hard it was clenching.I know Kane. I know how far he’ll go to win. He doesn’t take chances—he creates them. And this? This screams staged. His gun, her in his arms. A perfect little shootout scene, tailor-made for sympathy. For hea

THIRD PERSON'S POV (NARRATOR'S POV)Kane pushed open the door to Aria’s suite quietly. The soft light from the bedside lamp cast a calm glow over the room. Aria lay under the covers, her hair a tousled mess on the pillow, her skin flushed and her eyes dull from the fever. She blinked up at him as he entered, a bowl of steaming soup in hand.He didn’t say anything at first, just walked to the side of the bed and placed the bowl on the nightstand. Then he picked up the spoon, sat on the edge beside her, and stirred the soup gently."You’re back.." she murmured, voice hoarse."You didn’t think I’d just leave you here, did you?" he said, softly. He lifted a spoonful of the soup, blew on it, and brought it to her lips. "Open up"She hesitated, her eyes flicking between him and the spoon. Then she took it. Her face scrunched slightly. "Who made this?""I did.." he said, leaning back slightly. "Why?"She shook her head faintly. "Not bad...could’ve used more salt, though."He gave her a mock