Chapter 41: Not Another Second

“Sir, Ms. Elena is here.” Raiyan was still registering the butler’s voice when Elena’s own cut in from the foyer—clear, familiar, and confident enough to sound like permission. “Don’t worry, I know the way. The kitchen is still in the same place, right?” Aunt Mirrium paused mid-motion. Not dramatic. Just a small, immediate stillness, the kind that comes from knowing exactly who has entered your space. The butler stepped aside with the practiced courtesy of someone who had learned which fights weren’t his to fight. Elena appeared in the kitchen doorway like she had never once been slowed down by rules. She was immaculate—tailored silk blouse, sharp trousers, hair perfect, makeup untouched by the morning. The bakery bag in her hand was branded from the place Raiyan used to stop at downtown, back when his schedule still had pockets in it for habits. “Good morning, Ms. Elena,” the butler said quietly, expression neutral, voice careful. Elena gave him a polite nod that also managed

Chapter 42: Desperate

Raiyan didn’t give Elena another opening. “I have to go,” he said, already reaching for his coat. Then, to Elena—cold, final, polite enough to pass: “I’ll drop you off before I go to the office.” And the second it left his mouth, he knew he’d just made it worse. Elena’s smile widened like she’d won something. “Perfect,” she said softly, glancing toward the stairs like she wanted Zoya to hear it. “I needed a ride anyway.” She stood quickly and reached for his arm again, already reclaiming her place beside him as they moved toward the foyer. The silence in the car was heavy, broken only by the hum of the city outside. Elena leaned back in the passenger seat and watched the streets for a long moment, letting the quiet stretch until it started to itch. “You seem tense,” she said eventually, voice smooth, conversational. “You’ve changed, Raiyan. This marriage changed you.” Raiyan didn’t turn his head. His hands stayed on the steering wheel, controlled, eyes locked on the road. “E

Chapter 43: Cold Metal And Cherry Gloss

Zoya shut her dressing-room door and kept her palm on it for a second, grounding herself.The villa was quiet again. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that followed after someone walked through the house like it was theirs, then left everyone pretending nothing happened.Because the problem wasn’t Elena showing up.The problem was how easily Raiyan made room for her.He had rules for Zoya. Questions. Boundaries. Timelines. Expectations. He could turn control into a full-time job when it was her. He could interrogate her silence like it was evidence.But Elena could glide in, touch his arm, say his name with that familiar entitlement—and Raiyan didn’t shut it down the way he shut Zoya down. He didn’t even look surprised.He looked comfortable.And the watch.He was still wearing the watch Elena gave him. Like it was nothing. Like it didn’t mean anything. Like Zoya was supposed to swallow it the same way she swallowed everything else.Zoya stared at her reflection and felt that familiar, ugl

Chapter 44: Still Within Reach

The meeting had run past its end time.TransCom sat in the middle of the table like a live wire.Raiyan was listening, the heavy air thick with the tension of the merger negotiations.A lawyer cleared his throat. “If they file today, the response window—”“Today,” Raiyan said, calm and final. “We respond today.”The lawyer blinked. “Sir, we—”Raiyan’s gaze held. The room corrected itself.Someone from finance tried to sound confident. “The two percent is still the only unpredictable piece. If she delays—”“She won’t,” Raiyan said, and didn’t elaborate. “Send her the updated clause. Narrow. Clean. No extra language.”Evan stood near the screen, arms folded, watching the table more than the slides. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence was already a warning.A comms guy started, “We can soften the angle so the public doesn’t—”Raiyan looked at him.The comms guy swallowed the rest of the sentence.“We don’t do soft,” Raiyan said. “We do accurate.”Chairs shifted. Pens stopped

Chapter 45: Accountability Before Dessert

Faiyaz reached Canary Wharf early and slowed before the main walkway, letting the crowd do what crowds did—blur faces, swallow intent, make everyone look harmless.He moved anyway.Not toward the meeting point. Not straight to the water. He took the long way, cutting past a coffee cart, then doubling back through a line of tourists, letting his reflection flash in a glass wall.Same coat behind him twice.Same pace.Same space kept—close enough to remind him, far enough to deny it.His phone vibrated.UNKNOWN NUMBER: You should have cooperated with us, Mr Malik. She could be yours.Faiyaz didn’t stop. His fingers tightened once around the phone.Another vibration, immediate.UNKNOWN NUMBER: Now you’re just being reckless.His jaw shifted slowly. Not fear. Not surprise.Understanding.His stomach dipped—cold and fast.They weren’t helping him find her. They were using him to reach her.He slid his phone into his pocket like nothing had happened, then glanced across the walkway—just a f

Chapter 46: At least We Are Keeping Score

Zoya finally looked at him properly. Her expression stayed calm, but the corner of her mouth sharpened.“So,” she said pleasantly, “was Elena done with breakfast, or did you escape while she was still checking your pulse with her fingers?”Raiyan didn’t defend. Didn’t explain. He just met her eyes.“I should’ve handled it better,” he said.Zoya smirked.Then she recovered instantly, like she refused to let that land too deep.“Wow,” she murmured. “Accountability before dessert. Who are you.”Mei whispered, “This is hot,” like she couldn’t help herself.“Mei,” Zoya warned.Mei sat back. “Sorry. Sorry. Continue emotionally damaging each other.”Raiyan’s gaze dropped to Zoya’s glass. Then her hand.“You didn’t take the driver,” he said.Zoya’s tone stayed light. “I didn’t feel like bringing your rules with me.”“And you didn’t take security,” Raiyan added, softer than before.Zoya smiled. Enigmatic. Dangerous. “And yet. Still alive.”Something moved in Raiyan’s face—small and fast—like r