The clock struck midnight as Rossy lit the last candle on the dining table. The soft flicker of light cast shadows on the walls, giving the room a warm, intimate glow. Tonight was supposed to be special—a rare evening when her husband, Adrian, wasn't working late at the office. After weeks of distance, Rossy had finally convinced him to have a quiet dinner at home.

She adjusted her silk dress nervously and glanced at the wine bottle chilling on the counter. Everything was perfect—or so she thought.

The sound of a car engine rumbled outside. She rushed to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to see Zeathan step out of his black sedan. His sharp suit looked impeccable, as always, but something about his posture was different tonight. He moved with tension, his jaw set, and his eyes scanning the street as though he were being watched.

Rossy's heart skipped a beat. She had seen this side of Zeathan before—the guarded, almost predatory man who felt like a stranger to her. It reminded her of the strange phone calls he took at odd hours, the cryptic text messages he always hid from her, and the times he'd disappear for days without explanation.

The front door opened, and Zeathan stepped inside.

"Hey," Rossy greeted him with a smile that masked her unease. "I thought we could have dinner together tonight. Just the two of us."

Zeathan's dark eyes softened for a moment before his phone buzzed. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and frowned. Without a word, he silenced the call and slipped the phone into his pocket.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah," he replied curtly, walking past her toward the study.

Something was off. Zeathan's was a man of secrets, and tonight, Rossy couldn't ignore it any longer.

As he disappeared into the study, Rossy's gaze fell to his phone, which he had carelessly left on the counter. It was vibrating again, the screen lighting up with a name she didn't recognize: Luca.

Her stomach twisted.

Curiosity and fear battled within her, but curiosity won. With trembling fingers, she swiped the screen and opened the message.

"We need to talk. The shipment was compromised. Meet me at the docks—now. Don't bring anyone."

The words felt like a punch to her chest. Shipment? Docks? What was Zeathan involved in?

Before she could process the shock, Zeathan's voice cut through the silence.

"Rossy," he called from the study.

Her heart stopped. She quickly placed the phone back where she found it and turned to face him. Zeathan stood in the doorway, his piercing gaze fixed on her.

"What were you doing just now?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

For the first time in their marriage, Rossy felt truly afraid.

The clock struck midnight, and the soft hum of the city outside was the only sound filling the silence in their luxurious penthouse. Isabella adjusted the strap of her satin dress, her heart pounding as she surveyed the romantic setup she'd spent hours preparing. Candles flickered on the dining table, and the aroma of her homemade carbonara wafted through the air.

Zeathan was late. Again.

Her hands tightened around the stem of her wine glass as she stared at the empty chair across from her. He wasn't just late; he was distant. Lately, their life had begun to feel like a movie where the heroine never truly knew the man she married. And yet, she loved him. She wanted to believe he was just busy, that his long absences and secretive behavior had innocent explanations.

The growl of a car engine broke her thoughts. She darted to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to glimpse Zeathan stepping out of his sleek black sedan. Even in the dim streetlight, he exuded a magnetic confidence that drew her in and terrified her all at once.

But tonight, there was something different about him. His usual calm exterior was cracked; tension rippled through his every movement. His sharp jaw was clenched, and his eyes darted around the street like he was searching for something—or someone.

Rossy swallowed hard.

The front door opened, and Zeathan stepped inside, his presence filling the room.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft but strained. "I made us dinner. I thought we could finally—"

"Not now, Rossy," he interrupted, his tone clipped. He loosened his tie as he walked past her, heading straight for the study.

Her heart sank. "Zeathan, wait—"

The sharp buzz of his phone on the counter made them both pause. Zeathan's gaze flicked to the device, his expression hardening. Without a word, he grabbed it and silenced the call, but not before Isabella caught a glimpse of the name: Luca.

"Who's Luca?" she asked, her voice more pointed than she intended.

Adrian's dark eyes met hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw something flash in them—guilt? Anger? Fear?

"Work," he said flatly. "It's nothing for you to worry about."

But it was impossible not to worry. Rossy had spent years convincing herself that Zeathan's secrets were harmless, but tonight, her instincts screamed otherwise. As he disappeared into the study, she clenched her fists.

She wouldn't let this go. Not this time.

Minutes later, when the sound of Zeathan's voice drifted through the study door, Isabella took her chance. His phone buzzed again, abandoned this time on the kitchen counter. Her pulse raced as she picked it up, swiping the screen before her courage could fail her.

The message on the screen made her blood run cold:

"The shipment was intercepted. We have a leak. I'll handle it, but you need to meet me at the docks—midnight sharp. Alone."

Her breath hitched. Shipment? Leak? Docks? This wasn't work. This wasn't innocent.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Zeathan was coming back. Panic surged through her as she hurried to place the phone back, her fingers trembling.

When he entered, his piercing gaze locked on her immediately.

"Rossy," he said slowly, his tone calm but laced with an edge. "What are you doing?"

She froze.

"I-I was just…" she stammered, her voice failing her under the weight of his stare.

He moved closer, closing the space between them. "You touched my phone, didn't you?"

The accusation hung in the air, and for the first time in their marriage, Isabella realized she wasn't looking at the man she thought she knew. She was staring into the eyes of someone dangerous.