/Madison's POV/
Waking up and facing Zane again after being intimate with him has been strangely difficult.
Many times, I entertained the thought of what it would be like if he remembered all that happened.
Our night together—the raw, undiluted passion of that night as he carved himself inside me—I kept wondering how he'd be if memories of that time came back to him.
After switching rooms from Zane's, I tried to reach Kim to set up a meeting.
I told Zane what I could, but I left out the part that I struck a bargain with Kim. I couldn't remember his contact no matter how much I tried, so I reached out to Kim first to ask for a favour since I could never forget hers.
We were partners for many years, after all.
I'd been avoiding her request because it felt burdensome, and also, I feared helping Kim with one of her dangerous espionage missions could come back to bite me in the ass. But after she sent a car over to help me get to Zane's place with his contact information slipped to the driver, I knew I had to address the issue I'd been avoiding.
To finally deal with it, I had to sneak out of Zane's beach house—which was a lot more difficult than his mansion—but nothing I couldn't handle.
I had no idea the place was crawling with surveillance cameras until I walked into the hallway, which was where I decided to stick to the blind spots.
I had a habit of looking for cameras in the past, but Zane killed that habit because his mansion had none, only for me to find out his luxurious beach house was full of them.
I'm not sure Zane was aware I snuck out though. After all… he came to find me again.
How he could easily find his way to me when he's barely conscious was beyond me.
Though I was highly tempted to give it to him again since I couldn't get that hotel night out of my head, I still knocked him out before leaving.
I was confident being intimate with Zane was enough to get him out of my system, but I was wrong. It didn't help; if anything, it made things worse.
Every touch, every kiss etched into my head like a signature—the memory on torturous replay the moment silence fell or when my eyes caught his. My breath hitched, and my stomach twisted in both guilt and agonising longing.
"You look like shit!" Kim commented the moment she saw me. She'd sent me a car to pick me up right after telling her I was hiding away at Zane's beach house.
"Can you really not make comments on how I look right now? I've had a real shitty day," I groaned, slumping into her sofa while I stared blankly at her high ceiling and chandelier.
I was never the type to avoid problems; I confronted them even if they made me uncomfortable. But after what happened with Zane, it just felt like the perfect solution.
Still, I couldn't miss the tense look on his face when I did that—his eyes stalking me at every turn—yet I tried not to meet them, afraid he'd see through me immediately.
The secret that was mine alone to keep, even if it was slowly eating me alive. If I knew it was going to make me this uncomfortable, I should never have done it.
But Zane was no different from alcohol addiction—toxic, tempting, and intoxicating.
I tried so hard to steer clear, but it's always the same rodeo.
I'll convince myself to try to quit, give up, only to end up wanting him again. Nothing has ever been more tedious.
"You ghosted me," Kim sounded betrayed, irritation carved into her expression. She was definitely holding a grudge.
"I didn't have a choice, Kim. I'm kind of in a tight situation right now—"
"You mean the whole thing going on with you and Zane Antler." My eyes flipped up at her begrudgingly. "Don't look at me like that. I'm an information broker. Dealing with information is what I do. Also, it'd be weird not to notice when both of you are my clients." I sat up almost immediately.
"You sold information to Zane? What information?" I demanded, and she arched a brow.
"Yeah right. Client confidentiality." I muttered like it was some kind of curse.
"I can't tell you, but I can assure you it's similar to what you asked. Nothing dangerous," she assured me, and I sighed, then fell back onto her plush sofa. It was strangely comfortable.
"I don't get it though, why are you both going so far—"
"I know you deal with information, but I'm gonna tell you this as a friend, and if you tell anyone, I'm gonna kill you," I made clear, and she tensed. "My sister's dead, Kim." Her expression fell.
"What?"
"Zane and I are working to find out who," I simply replied.
"I guess that's why you're pretending to be her," she guessed, and my frown deepened.
"How the hell did you know that?" I was surprised she was able to find that out.
"It's just a guess, but I was right, huh?" She shrugged before settling on the sofa closest to me. "I'm a fan of your sister." Okay, that was surprising—now I see why she looked so pained. "And that recent video addressing her fans that she's recovering and doing fine had me doubting if that was really her. You both look terrifyingly alike." She wiggled her brows.
"Well, that's why I'm doing this."
"I have no doubt you can handle it, but something tells me you aren't handling it as well as you think you are. It's the only reason you came here looking half-dead." I groaned inwardly.
"Was it that obvious?" I asked, and she nodded. "It's not the plan that's the problem…it's me. I can't bring myself to concentrate properly. I'm really better off working alone, but—"
"You also can't seem to distance yourself from him, huh?" The guilt seeping into my chest seemed to have found its way to my face.
"I knew it." Kim slammed her hand on the sofa's armrest. I really hate how intuitive she is about things like this. "Please tell me you didn't fuck him—you didn't, right?" I wasn't even saying anything. How on earth was she sniffing that out?
"Unbelievable. How could you do that? He was your sister's fiancé! I get that he's hot and all, but what?" Kim asked, disbelief drawn into the lines of her face.
"You said was," I pointed out defensively.
"I know you're not exactly a stickler for the rules, but your moral compass seems to be broken as well."
"You're not helping right now," I groaned, and she sighed. "Besides, it was a one-time thing. It won't happen again. We just—" I stopped mid-sentence because I was sure this was on me. Zane had nothing to do with it—the dude wasn't even conscious of the whole thing.
"Well, as long as you intend to put an end to it. You're treading very dangerous waters there, Maddy. Anyone but Zane—you'll get burned," Kim warned.
"You think I don't know that? The dude is a public figure. He's everything I should avoid if I want a peaceful life. He shines so brightly like the sun, and I'm just a shadow, Kim, so you really don't have to remind me."
"Keep telling yourself that, and maybe you'll listen." Kim stood to pour herself a drink. "Now that I understand that you have your own situation, I don't intend to bother you, but my situation has also gotten quite complicated. Two of my guys died trying to get to that safe, and now the cops are sniffing." Frustrated, Kim emptied her glass in one gulp. "But what's worse is that the safe has been moved to Crystal Hotel. They're bringing over a Japanese locksmith to unlock it. You know I'm not the type to beg, Maddy—please help me…" she pleaded.
"Umm, humble looks good on you. Wear it more often," I smirked, and she threw me a haughty glance. I'd already made up my mind to listen to her anyway.
"Fine, I'll do it, but for something in return. I'll tell you once I get back. While I promise to help you with this, if by any chance it could compromise my identity, I'm giving it up," I made clear, and she nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Sure… as long as it's something I can help with. Just don't get greedy. I know how expensive your services are, but either way, I'm gonna be generous." I scoffed at her response.
"Narcissistic much?" I replied after she suddenly made it sound like I was the one receiving help.
"So, how was Zane in bed? Was he good?" Kim rushed back to her seat, her face beaming with excitement. This bitch, really. "Oh, c'mon. Don't gatekeep, I'm just curious. I've only ever gotten to see him on official occasions, and damn, I've always wanted to see him naked. Too bad he had a partner." My face flamed at the recollection. "So it was good, huh?" she smirked mischievously.
"Oh God, this is a nightmare," I muttered under my breath. "I have no intention of discussing Zane's sex skills with you, Kim. Instead, I'd like to hear more about this safe thingy. I have no intention of rushing in blindly."
I switched the conversation, although she did try steering it back her way, curious about Zane's bed habits, which I'd rather not share. But for the most part, it was fun talking to her—it helped clear my head.
Thinking about it, Zane was pretty good… his movements, his kisses… it felt so good it was hard to tell he wasn't in his right mind. I should have suspected he wasn't.
One of Kim's men drove me back to the beach house after our conversation. He didn't exactly drop me off at the entrance—just close enough for me to sneak back in myself through the backyard.
I thought everything would go smoothly from there, and even through my meal, all I could think about was that time at the hotel. Was Zane really unconscious that night? I wasn't sure—right until Zane challenged me at the table.
I should have known.
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