Semua Bab Vows Written In Silence : Bab 31 - Bab 40

By the time the London roads swallowed them, the car felt different. Still alert. Still moving with purpose. But the air inside was… quieter. Not safe. Just quieter in the way you get when the immediate danger fades and the rest of it has room to breathe. Zoya’s hand was still in Raiyan’s. He’d taken it without asking. She’d let him. Maybe out of stubbornness. Maybe out of instinct. Maybe because she didn’t have the energy to fight him on the one thing that was keeping her anchored. His thumb brushed her knuckles once. Small. Checking. Like he needed confirmation she was still there. Zoya stared out the window, watching the city wake up like nothing had happened, and felt something sour twist under her ribs. Because she’d spent the last week telling herself he was fine. Telling herself he was ignoring her on purpose. Telling herself she was the only one bleeding. And now, sitting this close, she could see it. The exhaustion wasn’t subtle. It sat on him. Deep shad

He swiped the screen, expecting a routine update. Instead, he saw the first trace of the 2% shell company. The signal wasn’t coming from a bank in London or a server in Oxford.It was broadcasting from TransCom.The enemy wasn’t just watching his business.They were already sitting in his executive suite.Raiyan stared at the blinking red dot on the digital map. It wasn’t moving; it was pulsing from the very room where his board of directors was waiting for him. He had spent all morning securing the perimeter of his home, only to realize the real breach was already inside his own walls.His jaw locked. He didn’t just have a rival; he had a traitor. And if that person was sitting in his boardroom right now, it meant—The air in the TransCom executive suite didn’t just feel thin; it felt filtered.The room was a masterclass in architectural intimidation—all seamless glass and acoustic dampening. Raiyan Al Mansoor entered. He di

Zoya finally turned, her glare locked and loaded. But the retort died in her throat. He looked exhausted. There were shadows under his eyes that hadn’t been there before, and his frame looked leaner under his suit. But the way he was looking at the dinner—and then at her—was so raw it made her chest ache. “You’re late,” she snapped. Raiyan’s gaze drifted to the lamb, then back to her eyes. “I didn’t know you were waiting. And you made my favorites,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I wasn’t waiting. I was cooking,” Zoya corrected too quickly. She shoveled a portion of rice onto a plate with aggressive precision. “Aunt Mirrium said you were on a hunger strike.” Raiyan’s brow lifted, a small, tired trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “I was. That’s thoughtful of you.” Zoya’s cheeks burned. She went for sarcasm before her face could betray her again. “I felt kind today.” “Oh. Kindness,” Raiyan murmured. “I see.” He didn’t ask why she was cooking. He didn’t ask if she was sta

Zoya grabbed a pillow and shoved it at his chest. Raiyan caught it with one hand like it was nothing. The laugh that followed was quiet, warm, and it made the whole room feel different.Zoya froze, because she hadn’t heard that sound from him in too long, a small, involuntary smile tugging at the corner of her own mouth.Raiyan noticed her freeze.His gaze softened for a second—just a second, his eyes scanning her face with sudden intensity, his pulse visibly skipping a beat in his throat.Then he looked away like he didn’t want to ruin it. “Come here,” he said.Zoya blinked. “No.”Raiyan’s eyes slid to her brace again. “I’m not arguing with you.”Zoya’s cheeks warmed. “You never argue. You just… decide.”Raiyan’s voice dropped, the clinch line landing like a truth he wasn’t trying to hide: “I decide when it’s about you.”Zoya went still, her breathing shallow.Her sarcasm didn’t come fast enough this time. Raiyan patted the space beside him once, not dramatic, not pleading. Just… ce

Raiyan lifted his head slightly and pushed his wet hair back, water sliding down his face as he blinked it out of his lashes. His gaze went automatically to the upper floor. The window was open. Zoya stood there. Pastel pink lounge wear, soft and unfairly beautiful in the morning light, her hair in a loose bun that looked like it had given up halfway. She wasn’t dressed to impress. Which made it worse. She looked half-awake and too honest, like she’d walked to the window without remembering she was allowed to be seen. Raiyan went still in the water. Not tense. Just… caught. Because she wasn’t just there. She was watching him. And she didn’t realize her face was giving her away. Her eyes were fixed on him like she’d forgotten what to do with her expression. Like her body had decided before her pride did. Something in his chest eased—quiet, dangerous relief—like he’d been holding his breath for weeks and didn’t know it. He kept his hands on the edge for a second, water roll