Rossy's breath caught as Zeathan stepped closer, his presence suffocating and overwhelming. Her mind raced, searching for an excuse, a lie that would sound convincing enough to deflect his suspicion.
"I was just moving it," she said softly, gesturing toward the counter. "It was buzzing, and I didn't want it to fall."
Zeathan tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. He was studying her, reading every shift in her expression. For a man who always seemed composed, there was something unsettling in his intensity tonight.
"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice calm but laced with a warning.
Rossy nodded, hoping her face didn't betray the storm of emotions inside her. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she swore he could hear it.
Zeathan finally reached for the phone, his fingers brushing against it as his sharp eyes flicked back to her. His lips curled into a faint, unreadable smile.
"Good," he said, slipping the device into his pocket. "Because some things are better left untouched, Rossy."
His words sent a shiver down her spine. He lingered for a moment longer, as though daring her to challenge him, before turning and retreating into the study once again.
The moment the door closed, Rossy let out a shaky breath, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her. This wasn't the man she married. This was someone else—someone who had been hiding in plain sight all along.
But she wasn't ready to confront him yet. She needed to know more.
Later that night, after Zeathan had locked himself in the study and the penthouse had gone eerily quiet, Rossy found herself pacing the bedroom. Her mind replayed the message over and over, dissecting every word.
The shipment was intercepted. We have a leak. Meet me at the docks—midnight sharp. Alone.
Who was Luca? What shipment? And why did Zeath seem so… dangerous?
Her curiosity burned, but so did her fear. Part of her wanted to ignore it, to cling to the illusion of the perfect marriage she'd built. But the other part—the part that had always noticed the shadows around Zeath—refused to let it go.
Finally, she made a decision.
Sneaking into the closet, Rossy reached for her coat. She didn't know what she'd find at the docks, but she couldn't sit here and pretend nothing was wrong. Not anymore.
Scene Situation: The Docks
The cold night air bit at her skin as Rossy parked her car a few blocks away and approached the docks on foot. The area was deserted, save for the faint sound of water lapping against the wooden piers. Her heels clicked softly against the pavement as she ducked into the shadows, keeping her distance.
She spotted Zeath immediately. He stood near the edge of the dock, his tall frame silhouetted against the moonlight. He was no longer the polished businessman she knew. His tie was gone, his sleeves rolled up, and his posture radiated tension.
Opposite him stood another man, tall and broad-shouldered, with a scar running down the side of his face. His voice was low, but the anger in his tone carried across the still night.
"You said everything was secure," the man growled. "Now half the shipment's gone, and the cops are sniffing around."
Zeath's voice was calm but cold. "I'll handle it. The leak is already being dealt with."
Rossy's heart raced as she crouched behind a stack of crates, straining to hear. What shipment? What leak?
"Luca doesn't think you've got this under control," the man said. "He's already talking about taking matters into his own hands."
Zeath's expression darkened. "Luca answers to me. And you tell him that if he tries to undermine me again, he'll regret it."
The threat in his voice sent chills through Isabella. She covered her mouth with her hand, terrified she'd make a sound and give herself away.
The conversation continued, but Rossy couldn't process the words anymore. Her perfect world was crumbling around her, and she was beginning to realize that her husband wasn't just keeping secrets—he was living a double life.
The cold night air stung Rossy's face as she crouched behind a stack of crates, her breath shallow and her pulse hammering in her ears. From her hiding spot, she could see Zeath standing on the edge of the dock, his usual composed demeanor replaced by something far darker.
The man he was speaking to—a hulking figure with a scar running down his face—spoke in a low, menacing tone. "You said everything was secure, Zeath. Now half the shipment's missing, and the heat's getting too close. Luca's not happy."
Zeath's jaw tightened, his voice cold and steady. "I told you, I'll handle it. The leak has already been dealt with."
The man scoffed. "Dealt with? Luca thinks you're slipping. He's talking about stepping in himself."
Zeath's voice dropped, sharp as a blade. "Luca answers to me. If he oversteps again, I'll make sure it's the last mistake he ever makes."
Rossy's stomach twisted. This wasn't the man she thought she knew. The loving husband who kissed her goodnight, who made her laugh during lazy Sundays—this man was calculated, ruthless.
As the conversation continued, she felt the weight of the truth pressing down on her. Zeath wasn't just keeping secrets—he was living a life she couldn't begin to comprehend. The shipment, the docks, the threats—it all pointed to one terrifying possibility. Her husband was involved in something criminal, something dangerous.
A loud clatter nearby made her jump. She froze, her heart in her throat. Adrian's head snapped in her direction, his sharp eyes scanning the shadows. The other man reached for his waist, where a glint of metal hinted at a concealed weapon.
Rossy ducked lower, her body trembling. She held her breath, praying the darkness would keep her hidden. After a tense moment, Zeath turned back to the man, muttering something she couldn't make out. The conversation ended quickly, and the two men parted ways.
As Zeath walked back toward his car, Rossy remained frozen in place, fear and betrayal coursing through her veins. She knew she couldn't confront him now. Not yet. But one thing was clear—her perfect life had been a lie, and the man she loved might be more dangerous than she'd ever imagined.