Immediately after Zamian closed the door behind him, Mira let out a loud exhale, feeling the weight of the moment bearing down on her. She couldn't believe the surge of emotions she'd felt when he touched her earlier. The shock of his presence still lingered, unsettling her thoughts. She placed a hand over her chest, trying to steady her breathing. Why was he here, and why did his touch affect her so deeply? Her mind raced to make sense of the events that had unfolded since they'd last met, especially in the forest.
Before she could fully process her swirling emotions, there was a soft knock at the door. It was Nana, her personal maid. She gently called, "Ms. Mira, the Young Master requests your presence in the dining room. He would like you to join him for dinner."
Mira blinked, her thoughts momentarily interrupted. She nodded at Nana, though she still felt as if she was in a dream. Her mind, still tangled in confusion, couldn't focus. Yet, she had to keep her composure. "Just four months," she whispered to herself as she stood up. "Four months, and then I'll be free. I need to prepare, give him an heir, and then I can start my new life. I'll endure this now so I can enjoy my freedom later." With that resolve firm in her mind, Mira squared her shoulders and headed for the dining room.
Upon entering the room, Mira couldn't help but notice how impeccably set the table was. The atmosphere was formal, from the carefully arranged place settings to the elegant centerpiece. Zamian sat at the head of the long dining table, his posture perfect, his expression cold and unreadable as ever. He looked every bit the powerful CEO she knew him to be of course through her grandfather . The soft clinking of cutlery and hushed movements of the staff preparing the final touches were the only sounds breaking the silence.
Taking a seat across from him, Mira tried to appear composed, though inside, her thoughts were a tangled mess. Zamian glanced at her briefly before signaling for the staff to begin serving the meal. Each dish was presented with the precision and elegance one would expect in such a mansion, but Mira barely noticed. She was too lost in her thoughts, consumed with worry about the next four months and how she would navigate the difficult path ahead.
The tension in the room was palpable. Mira focused on the food before her, trying to ground herself in the present moment. Zamian , on the other hand, remained silent throughout the meal, his calm demeanor doing little to ease her nerves. His occasional glances only heightened her sense of unease. She couldn't decipher what was going through his mind, and the uncertainty gnawed at her.
The silence stretched on as they ate, but Mira couldn't stand it any longer. Her fingers clenched slightly around the fork as she spoke, her voice cutting through the quiet. "Mr. CEO," she began, pausing briefly to choose her words carefully. "You never told me your name."
Zamian's expression didn't change, but the air in the room grew heavier. The staff who had been serving their food seemed to stiffen, their eyes flicking nervously between the two. For a moment, it felt as though everyone in the room was holding their breath, waiting for Zamian's response.
When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth, deep, and steady. "Zamian," he replied, as though the single word was explanation enough.
Mira quickly averted her gaze, feeling the weight of his response settle over her. She resumed eating, focusing on the simple act of finishing her meal. The tension between them was thick, but she was determined to stay composed.
As the meal neared its end, Zamian broke the silence again, his tone as impassive as ever. "While you're here," he said, "your belongings will be moved to my room."
Mira froze for a second, her mind whirring at the implication of his words. Sharing a room with Zamian? She nodded mechanically, though internally, her thoughts were anything but calm. She barely tasted the last bites of her meal as she continued to think about what lay ahead.
After the meal, Zamian rose to his feet, prompting Mira to follow. Together, they moved toward the elevator, the soft hum of its mechanisms the only sound in the vast mansion. The silence between them felt heavier than before. Mira's eyes flickered to the grand surroundings of the mansion. The beauty and opulence of the place were overwhelming, but it only served to remind her of the difference in their worlds.
As the elevator ascended, Mira gathered her courage and spoke again. "I'll give you an heir in four months," she said quietly but firmly. "And after that, we'll get a divorce." The words hung in the air, filled with the finality of a decision already made.
Zamian, however, remained silent, his gaze fixed straight ahead. His lack of response made Mira's pulse quicken with a mix of frustration and uncertainty. She swallowed, steeling herself. "What about the contract?" she pressed, needing clarity.
At this, Zamian turned to face her. His sharp gaze pierced through her, making her heart skip a beat. The intensity of his stare was unnerving. Without warning, he stepped closer, his presence commanding as always. Gently but firmly, he lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. The sudden touch made her breath catch in her throat. "Why are you so eager for the divorce?" he asked in a low tone, his voice carrying an edge of curiosity that sent a shiver down her spine.
Mira was too stunned to reply. Her thoughts scattered, and before she could gather them, the elevator doors opened with a quiet ding. Seizing the moment, she quickly turned and stepped out, putting distance between herself and Zamian. Her heart was still racing as they walked down the long, grand corridor that led to her new room.
When they reached the door, Zamian opened it to reveal an expansive, luxurious bedroom. Mira's eyes widened at the sheer elegance of the space. Everything, from the silk drapes to the velvet sofas and ornate chandeliers, screamed wealth and power. She stepped inside, feeling dwarfed by the grandeur.
Her awe was short-lived, however, as Zamian's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Go shower," he instructed.
Mira's cheeks flushed at the coldness of his command. She turned toward the bathroom and stopped in her tracks. The bathroom was see-through, with sleek glass walls that left little to the imagination. It was a stark contrast to the traditional luxury of the rest of the room. Her heart quickened in embarrassment. "Why is the bathroom see-through?" she asked in a whisper, more to herself than to him.
Zamian , predictably, didn't offer an explanation. He simply turned and left the room without another word, leaving her to grapple with her thoughts.
Mira stood there for a moment, feeling overwhelmed by everything: the see-through bathroom, the enormity of her situation, and the cold, distant man she now had to deal with. She could barely believe how much her life had changed in such a short span of time. But she had to stay strong. "Just four months," she reminded herself, her voice a low whisper. "I can do this. I'll get through this, and then I'll be free."
With that, Mira took a quick shower, letting the cool water calm her nerves. When she emerged, she changed into a loose shirt and shorts, seeking comfort in the familiar clothing. She returned to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, her thoughts still racing. Exhaustion soon took over, though, and she lay down, pulling the soft covers over her. In minutes, she was fast asleep.
Hours later, the quiet of the room was disturbed by the sound of the door creaking open. A figure slipped inside, moving with practiced care to avoid waking Mira. The dim light from the hallway cast long shadows across the room as the figure approached the bed. Zamian moved closer, his gaze falling on Mira's sleeping form. Her hair, slightly damp from her shower, had fallen across her face.
Without a word, Zamian reached out, his fingers gently brushing the strands of hair away from her face. He tucked them carefully behind her ear, his touch soft and almost tender. For a moment, he stood there, watching her sleep, his expression unreadable.
As the quiet of the room settled back in, Zamian prepared to sleep beside her. But before he could lie down, a faint buzz interrupted the stillness. He turned toward the bedside table, where Mira's phone lay vibrating softly. The screen lit up, displaying a name that immediately caught his eye:
Zack.