Maison du Verre—an exclusive, glass-walled restaurant nestled in the heart of downtown. Elegant. Discreet. Intimate. It was owned by the Montgomery family—specifically, by Alistair Montgomery, her older brother's long-time friend and business partner.
Alistair had always kept a respectful distance. Composed. Loyal. But behind those cool gray eyes, Zara had occasionally glimpsed something unspoken—something carefully buried. No one else noticed, but sometimes, when their eyes met, she wondered: Did he ever let himself imagine more?
Of all places…
"Why would Adrian take her there?" Zara murmured, her voice hollow.
"I don't know," Simone replied gently. "But I thought you should see it before it spreads. People are already talking."
Zara's mind reeled. She couldn't believe it was a romantic date. Adrian wouldn't. Not after everything.
Driven by disbelief, she headed straight to Maison du Verre. She parked hastily and made her way toward the restaurant. Near their table, just out of sight, she heard his voice.
"I'm not seeing anyone. I never make promises I don't intend to keep. Love's never been part of the equation. I don't let things get… complicated. Whoever I've spent time with—they knew what it was. Nothing more."
The words hit her like a slap.
Zara staggered back, unseen, her breath stolen.
Her world tilted. Her heart didn't just ache—it recoiled.
And just like that, whatever fragile hope she'd been clinging to slipped through her fingers.
Still, even after hearing those words, she couldn't leave. Not yet.
She waited in the parking lot, desperate for a chance to talk to him. Maybe there was an explanation. Maybe she misunderstood. Maybe those words weren't meant the way they sounded.
She gripped the steering wheel, eyes locked on the restaurant doors like they were the only thing holding her together. Her heart pounded, every beat clinging to the faintest thread of hope.
Minutes passed.
Then the glass doors swung open.
Adrian walked out—with Tanya beside him. He was laughing.
Zara froze.
She'd seen him laugh before, of course. But this? This laugh was different. Easy. Unburdened. Like nothing was weighing him down. Like there wasn't a woman who had waited hours just to see him— to ask why he kept avoiding her like she didn't matter.
She ducked low behind the tinted windows.Wait. Why am I hiding? she whispered, her voice barely audible—even to herself.
Her breath hitched.
Tanya reached up and brushed something from Adrian's collar, her hand lingering a second too long.
He didn't pull away.
Zara swallowed hard, her throat tightening.
She wouldn't cry. Not here. Not again.
Jaw clenched, she started the engine, blinking away the tears that burned behind her eyes.
She felt like a fool—like the punchline of a cruel joke.
Was her father right all along?
Had Adrian only used her? Played with her?
Who was she to him—a secret? A mistake? A convenience?
Humiliation scorched through her. Disgust followed close behind.
So she left.
Not because she was done—But because she refused to let him see her break.
***
She didn't know where she was going.
She just needed to get away—from him, from the truth, from everything.
Hands gripping the wheel, she drove with no destination in mind, the city blurring past in a haze of lights and memories. Street signs meant nothing. Time slipped by unnoticed.
She didn't even realize where she was heading… until the iron gates came into view.
Her foot eased off the gas.
The cemetery.
Of all places—her mother's grave.
Her heart twisted. Maybe it wasn't a mistake after all. Maybe this was where she was meant to be.
She stepped out of the car. The night air was cool against her skin, but she barely felt it. Her feet moved on their own, guiding her down the familiar path until she stood in front of the simple marble headstone.
Her mother's name was etched into the stone like a wound that never healed.
And that's when it broke.
All the hurt. All the confusion. All the betrayal.
It surged up and tore through her like a wave.
She dropped to her knees, fingers clawing at the cold earth as sobs wracked her body.
She cried until there was no air left in her lungs. Until her chest ached. Until she felt like she might suffocate on her own grief.
She didn't speak. There were no words—just the raw sound of her breaking, echoing in the silence of the dead.
Then—a hand landed gently on her shoulder, grounding her.
She flinched and turned, startled—only to find someone tall standing behind her.
Solid. Steady. Familiar.
"Alistair?" Her voice cracked. "What… what are you doing here?"
"I saw you at the restaurant earlier," Alistair said softly, his gaze steady. "I followed you here."
Zara blinked, still trying to process the weight of everything—the betrayal, the silence, the unbearable ache.
"I didn't want to intrude," he added. "But... are you done here?"
She didn't trust her voice, so she just nodded, brushing the last of the tears from her cheeks.
He hesitated, then offered gently, "Are you hungry? Come on. Let me take you somewhere. Just... get in the car. You don't have to say anything. Just let me drive."
Zara looked at him—really looked at him. Calm, collected Alistair. Always in control. Always watching.
And for the first time today, something in her chest eased.
Maybe she didn't need answers right now. Maybe she just needed not to be alone.
Silently, she got in.