Zara stared out the car window as they returned from the gala, her body still tense from the way Ameer had touched her—so boldly, so publicly. She hated the way her skin had responded, how her heart had betrayed her by skipping, fluttering, aching.
She should despise him.
She had every reason to.
But the way he looked at her sometimes… like she was the only thing holding him together… it confused her more than she wanted to admit.
Ameer didn't speak the entire ride home. His jaw was tight, his hand tapping against his thigh, as if he was holding something back.
When they got to the mansion, she moved to go upstairs, but he stopped her with a single word:
"Zara."
She turned slowly, heart hammering in her chest.
His eyes met hers. "Don't ever question your place beside me again."
She frowned. "You think touching me like that in public proves something?"
"It proves you're mine."
"You say that like it's a threat."
Ameer took a step closer. "It's a warning."
Zara held his gaze. "I'm not a possession, Ameer. I'm your wife, yes—but I'm not your property."
His face was unreadable. "Then stop acting like you want to run every time I touch you."
Zara inhaled sharply. "Maybe I do… maybe I'm just afraid of what I'll do if I don't."
Ameer's gaze dropped briefly to her lips—then, without a word, he turned and walked away.
Leaving her once again drowning in the storm he'd created.
---
The next morning, Zara woke to the sound of voices downstairs.
She stepped out of her room and followed them to the private lounge, where Ameer stood with his father—and Layla.
Zara stiffened.
Layla looked too comfortable in the house. Too confident. And the way she looked at Ameer made Zara's skin crawl.
"Oh," Layla said sweetly when she saw her. "Good morning, Mrs. Alhassan."
Zara forced a smile. "Didn't know you were a houseguest now."
"I'm just here for business. But you know how families are."
Zara's gaze shifted to Ameer, who stood like a statue.
"Layla and I are handling a property deal," he said.
Zara folded her arms. "Interesting. You didn't mention that."
His father chuckled. "Not everything needs to go through you, dear."
Zara didn't respond, but fire burned in her chest. Was this what they meant by keeping her in her place?
---
That afternoon, Zara found herself wandering into the library again.
She needed to breathe. To think.
But instead, she found a letter tucked inside one of the books on the lowest shelf. It was old, the ink smudged slightly—but still legible.
Her blood ran cold as she read the name at the top.
Leena Bakare.
And the words underneath were worse:
> "If I disappear… tell Zara it wasn't an accident."
Zara stumbled back, heart pounding.
She wasn't just part of this family's game.
She was the target of a buried secret.
And someone had tried to warn her—before it was too late.
---