The morning light poured through the large windows of the penthouse, casting golden hues across the sleek, modern furnishings. But to Rossy, the sunlight felt like a cruel contrast to the storm brewing inside her. She sat at the kitchen counter, nursing a cup of coffee she couldn't bring herself to drink, her mind replaying everything she'd uncovered the night before.
Zeath entered the kitchen, his presence commanding as always. Dressed in a crisp suit, he looked every bit the successful businessman she had once admired. But now, every movement, every word seemed calculated—another layer of a façade she was desperate to peel away.
"Good morning," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. The warmth of his lips against her skin sent a chill through her.
"Morning," she replied, forcing a smile.
His dark eyes lingered on her, studying her as though trying to read her thoughts. "You didn't sleep well, did you?"
She shook her head, taking a small sip of her coffee to avoid his gaze. "No, just… restless, I guess."
Zeath frowned slightly, his expression unreadable. "You've seemed distracted lately. Is there something you want to talk about?"
The question hung in the air like a challenge. Her heart raced as she debated what to say. She couldn't confront him, not yet—not until she had more proof, more answers.
"No, I'm fine," she said quickly. "Probably just work stress."
His frown deepened, but he didn't press further. Instead, he reached for his phone, glancing at the screen before slipping it into his pocket.
"I have a meeting this morning," he said. "But I'll be back for dinner."
Rossy nodded, watching as he grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door. As soon as it clicked shut behind him, she let out a shaky breath.
This was her chance.
Digging Deeper
The apartment felt eerily quiet as Rossy moved through it, her nerves on edge. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she knew there had to be more.
She started in the study, carefully sifting through Zeath's desk drawers. Most of the files were mundane—contracts, financial reports—but tucked beneath a stack of papers, she found a black notebook.
Her hands trembled as she opened it, her breath catching at the contents.
Names. Dates. Locations.
Some names were crossed out, others circled. Beside them were cryptic notes like "Paid in full" or "Pending." One page listed shipments, with detailed descriptions of quantities and destinations. She didn't need to be an expert to know this wasn't legitimate business.
Her stomach churned as she flipped through the pages, each entry painting a clearer picture of Zeath's double life. He wasn't just involved in something illegal—he was orchestrating it.
She was about to close the notebook when a familiar name caught her eye: Luca. Beside it was a single line of text that made her blood run cold: "Meeting scheduled. Address: Blackwood Warehouse, 10 PM."
A Dangerous Decision
The rest of the day passed in a haze. Rossy couldn't focus, couldn't think of anything except the notebook and what it meant. By the time the clock struck nine, she had made up her mind.
She couldn't wait for Zeath to explain himself—she had to see the truth for herself.
Dressed in dark jeans and a hoodie, she slipped out of the apartment and into the night. Her heart pounded as she drove toward the address in the notebook, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
The Blackwood Warehouse loomed ahead, its massive structure casting long shadows under the dim streetlights. Isabella parked a safe distance away, her stomach twisting with anxiety.
As she crept closer, she heard voices—low, urgent, and unmistakably tense. Hiding behind a stack of crates, she peered around the corner.
Zeath stood near the entrance, his posture rigid, his expression hard. Opposite him was a man she recognized from the docks—Luca's associate.
"You're running out of time," the man growled. "Luca doesn't trust you anymore. If you don't deliver, he's going to act."
Zeath's voice was calm but cold. "I've handled bigger problems than Luca. Tell him to stay in line, or he'll regret it."
The man laughed, but it was a humorless sound. "You think you're untouchable, don't you? But everyone has a weakness, Zeath. Even you."
Rossy's heart sank as she realized the man's gaze had shifted, his eyes scanning the area. She ducked back behind the crates, praying he hadn't seen her.
"I suggest you watch your tone," Zeath said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "This conversation is over."
The man hesitated, then spat on the ground before walking away. Zeath stood there for a moment, his shoulders tense, before pulling out his phone and making a call.
"She's getting too close," he said, his words sending a chill down Isabella's spine. "We need to deal with it—tonight."
Her breath caught. Was he talking about her?
What are you secrets Zeath?
Rossy's POV
I hope there's no more bad feelings will come to my mind. This will be so hard to accept if you have some top secret behind my back.
Panic surged through her as she stumbled back toward her car, her mind racing. Zeath wasn't just dangerous—he was willing to eliminate anyone who threatened his world. And now, she was caught in the middle of it.
"I love you Zeath" Rossy whispers. But I have to confront you about this, it doesn't matter if we will argue or will not talk anymore.
Give me peace about this Zeath.
"Zeath" Rossy calls his name through the window as if he heard her. This is so hard to tell. I don't have courage to confront him as of now. I don't want him to think that I'm stalking him every night he goes out.
Rossy heading to the room when she hears footstep. "Rossy" Calm voice of Zeath. Why you're still awake? Putting his hand around her waist. Kiss her romancely.
Will Rossy confronts him? Or will she undergo her stalking plan over him?