/Madison's POV/
I know it's my fault for reaching for things I shouldn't have, but it's still disappointing to realise Zane blamed me too. I mean, I've always wondered if he would and how I'd have reacted. I even played the scene in my head a dozen times, but nothing could've prepared me for how the conversation went.
Even after realising he was awake for half the time, it still felt like I took advantage of him. Yeah, he probably didn't want to have sex with his fiancée's sister—it's only right. Fuck! I feel like crap.
Maybe if I'd considered that he wouldn't have wanted this, I would've stopped a lot earlier. But I guess I had a fraction of hope that he was attracted to me, even if it was just a little bit.
Now it's clear—Zane doesn't want me. He only wants my sister. He probably saw the sex through to the end because he enjoyed this face. I tried to bury the memories of that night, forgetting every single thing he did that set my body ablaze the moment he touched me, but my body operates on muscle memory. I might have tucked it away in my mind, but my body remembers—and it pisses me off even more every time I think about it.
The air in my room felt thick and unmoving, heavy with the scent of linen and ocean salt sneaking in from the open balcony. I sat still on the edge of the bed, trying not to think, but my chest kept tightening like my own heartbeat was mocking me.
Not long after I retreated to my room, I started hearing voices. At first, it was faint—muffled male tones carried up the stairs. One of them was familiar, a voice I'd heard once before at the hotel with Zane. He'd called the guy Noah, and I quickly figured out that was his assistant. It was through him I found out Zane could be quite bossy, though I'd yet to meet him in person.
Then another voice followed—soft, lilting, feminine, and unfamiliar. I frowned. It wasn't Aya, who was the only woman who knew this place, and it definitely wasn't Martha, who handled our meals. The voice was smooth, a little too sweet, echoing faintly through the hall like honey poured over glass.
Curiosity tugged me out of bed. The floor was cold beneath my bare feet as I padded to the door, pausing to press my ear against it. The voices grew sharper once I cracked it open. The woman's tone was syrupy, teasing, and utterly unpleasant. It pulled me toward the staircase railing before I even realised I was moving.
"Oh, come on… It's not like Allison's in any position to take those projects anyway. We can't afford to lose them all. I promise I can do better—please, just give me a chance."
Her whiny tone grated at me. From where I stood, I saw her tugging on Zane's shoulder like a spoiled child begging for candy.
Zane looked tired—his brows furrowed, jaw clenched, the faintest vein pulsing near his temple. He looked exasperated, like he'd been saying no for the hundredth time.
I wasn't expecting them to notice me, but the petite guy with nerdy glasses and long brown bangs—Noah, I guessed—glanced up. His eyes darted to me, and soon the other two followed his gaze.
I froze mid-step, every muscle going stiff. I should've gone back to my room, but the girl's hand clinging to Zane made something uncomfortable twist inside me.
"Allie, you… you're up."
Even I could hear the tension in Zane's voice. Great. I had to pretend to be his fiancée when I could barely stand to look at him.
"Alli…son." The guest's eyes widened like she'd seen a ghost, and she quickly stepped away from him. At least she had enough sense to do that.
I didn't answer. I simply descended the stairs, each step slow and deliberate, the sound of my heels tapping against marble echoing softly through the room.
"I… I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were in," the girl stuttered, voice trembling. Her fingers fidgeted with the strap of her purse, knuckles pale. I could almost taste the unease in the air, like the moment before a storm breaks.
Why was she so afraid of me? I hadn't even said anything yet. Maybe that's why. Silence makes people nervous.
I stopped by Zane's side and sat down close—too close. Any nearer, and I'd have been on his lap. His warmth radiated beside me, brushing against my arm.
I expected him to stiffen like he usually did, but instead, his muscles relaxed beneath my touch. When I leaned my head against his shoulder, his faint scent—amber and smoke—filled my lungs. When I looked up, that smug smile was waiting for me.
I'm only keeping my end of the agreement, my eyes said, but his gaze teased, like he was enjoying the show.
"Allison, I'm really sorry… I didn't know you'd recovered this much. I shouldn't have come," the girl said through clenched teeth.
Leaning in, I whispered, "Who's she?"
"That's Katherine Snow—your junior and colleague at the company," Zane whispered back, his breath brushing my ear. "She wants to take on your pending projects because of your health. I mean, I'd have agreed to it, but I'm not sure that's entirely my decision."
He smiled while he said it—one of those calm, calculating smiles that never gave anything away. He was looking at me like he saw Allison instead. The way his fingers idly played with a few strands of my hair made my chest tighten again. Was he always this good an actor?
"Do you think I can handle it?" I asked, snapping out of it.
"In time, but not yet… you still haven't recovered," he said. That probably translated to, You're not ready yet. "Maybe after a month, you'll have recovered enough to handle major projects again."
Noah adjusted his glasses, his voice polite but firm. "I strongly agree with Mr Antler's suggestion. You might have grown strong enough to walk on your own, but your wounds are probably still healing. Resuming your projects now isn't good for your body, no matter how much the managerial department pressures you."
"Okay, fine." I shrugged. "You handle it."
There was no script for this. Unlike my upcoming interview, the short five-minute video for Allison's fans, or my meeting with Vikram—this moment was raw, unplanned. And somehow, Zane and I moved in sync, as if we were reading the same script in silence. Maybe I was imagining it.
"I'm tired… I should head back," I murmured, pushing myself up. But before I could stand, Zane scooped me effortlessly into his arms.
A startled gasp slipped from me, my hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. His body was solid, warm, and his scent surrounded me again—amber, spice, and something faintly woodsy that clung to his skin. I hated how much I liked it.
"You might have acted strong walking downstairs on your own," he murmured, "but I know you still need some help back."
Right. I almost forgot—I wasn't supposed to walk fine. Playing the recovering patient meant remembering even the smallest details.
"Noah, take those things to my study. I'll discuss them with management," he said.
Katherine's face flickered between hope and shock.
"But you do realise I can't just hand everything over to you?" Zane added, tone calm but firm. "Allison had a lot of projects before the incident, which means I can't let you hoard the opportunities alone. This isn't just my decision—the other side needs to agree too. But I'll keep it in mind."
"Thanks, Mr Antler. I really appreciate the opportunity. I promise not to let you down."
Her words were respectful, but her eyes darted nervously to me. Just minutes ago, she'd been clinging to Zane. Now she could barely meet my gaze.
Zane carried me upstairs, his steps slow and measured. My arms stayed looped around his neck until we reached my room.
"I've got to admit," he said finally, "you're a little heavier than Allison."
Allison again. I guess I'll never escape her as long as I'm around Zane.
"Doesn't anyone ever tell you not to call a woman fat?" I shot back.
"Not really." He shrugged, completely unfazed.
I turned away, walking toward my bed to put distance between us.
"Maddy—"
"I meant it when I said I'm tired. I'm going to bed," I declared, slipping under the blankets. The sheets were cool against my skin, the scent of his cologne still lingering in the air. I could feel his gaze following me even after I turned away, but I ignored him.
Why exactly did I even go downstairs? I wondered as I drifted off to sleep.
When I finally woke later that night, hunger gnawed at my stomach. I was just about to go downstairs for dinner—until Zane walked in.
I frowned. "I asked, but there was no response. Zane," I called, but instead of replying, he walked straight toward my bed.
You've got to be kidding me.
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