/Zane's POV/
"I guess you finally decided to give in, huh? The pressure's getting to you?" Vikram asked as I let him into the house.
"You seem to forget—if I still don't want this to happen, it wouldn't." I smirked and he pouted. "Don't get it twisted. I'm just doing you a favour because I didn't want to put you in a tight spot at work."
"Why exactly are you being so stubborn Zane? It's not like your fiancée is some national treasure that needs to be hidden from the public—she's an actress, for crying out loud." He rolled his eyes.
He probably thought all my actions regarding Allison were some childish obsession. He had no idea how important this was to me; it didn't happen to him.
"Can you blame me? After what happened last time, I sighed, heading toward the sitting room with Vik trailing behind. "There's something I haven't mentioned yet—because it wasn't time to make it public."
"Yeah? There's also something I've been meaning to tell you," he said, taking a seat, hands clasped, his gaze firm. "But you go first."
I wondered what was on his mind that had him fidgeting.
"She can't remember anything." I said, my tone rueful, brows creased.
"What?"
"Allison doesn't remember anything. She remembers me, to some extent—her family too—but everything else? Gone. Her friends, her job, the incident." I exhaled. "I've been trying, Vik, but there's been no progress."
Ifelt bad lying to him, especially when the anxious look on his face softened into sympathy. But Vikram would never approve of what I was doing—he's too righteous, too straight-laced to get his hands dirty. I didn't want to taint him with what I'd become.
"Why didn't you tell me?" His tone was tight with frustration.
"What was I supposed to say, Vik? 'My partner's too traumatised to remember anything'?"
"Exactly!" He said with a forced enthusiasm that did nothing to hide his anger. I scoffed.
"Would you have kept it to yourself? The press stalk the station, sniffing for anything juicy about her. You think you could've kept them from finding out? What do you think happens to an actress with memory loss?" I asked, watching his face fall. "I did what I had to do to protect her. It doesn't matter whether you or anyone else understands that."
I tried to sound composed, but part of my real feelings slipped through. I wasn't sure how this lie would affect my friendship with Vik once the truth came out—but right now, it didn't matter.
"Then who's protecting you?" His question hit harder than I expected. "You're too busy protecting her, you've forgotten to protect yourself. You really think you're safe from this?"
I frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Some of the security footage was recovered, but a chunk of it's been wiped clean. Sure, we've got you walking into the apartment, and another camera caught you running after the assailant—but we're still trying to figure out why you left your fiancée bleeding out."
My jaw tightened. I'd been too focused on covering Madison's tracks to consider how suspicious things might look for me.
"And," he continued, "we think there was a third person there. Someone made the 911 call. The medics confirmed she was already being tended to when they arrived—whoever it was, their first aid skills bought her time. We're still trying to identify them."
"You're right," I admitted quietly. "There was someone there, helping Allison. That's why I chased the attacker—I trusted whoever was with her."
"And you don't know who it was?" Vikram pressed.
"I didn't see their face," I lied, lowering my head, afraid my emotions would betray me.
"Well, that's not what's important. They might've been one of her neighbours—most people in that building are celebrities. Maybe they didn't want to get involved, afraid it'd draw attention. Still, if we can find them, it'll help clear your name."
My head snapped up. "You know I would never hurt Allison."
"I know," he said, his tone softening. "But they've dug through your records, Zane. And with Elias running his mouth, my partner's starting to believe you're involved somehow. But don't worry—once I talk to Allison today, we'll set the story straight."
"Sure," I said, forcing calm as I led Vikram toward Madison's room. My pulse picked up speed. It wasn't because I doubted Madison's performance, but because I knew the moment that door opened, I'd have to face her—not as Allison's sister, but as my lover.
That look on her face earlier still haunted me. Madison didn't show much emotion, but when she did, it was never easy to read. Not even Allison ever had that particular look.
"Babe, is your friend not here yet?" Her voice floated through the room as I opened the door, carrying the faint scent of antiseptic and medication.
Madison was propped against four pillows, legs tucked beneath the sheets. On her right bedside table were pill bottles and packages; a half-eaten bowl of porridge sat on the other. A waste bin nearby held used bandages and gauze.
Aya had outdone herself with the makeup—Madison looked perfectly sickly, pale enough to seem fragile but not overdone.
"Babe." The word felt strange coming from her. I blinked. I'd never get used to it.
"Hey… babe," I echoed, catching her gaze. Behind those affectionate eyes was a mocking glint for my poor acting. I might run an empire of actors, but it didn't make me one. "I brought Vikram," I said, leading him deeper into the room.
"Hello, Miss Reyes. It's been a while." Vikram hesitated, then reached for a notepad in his jacket.
"Mr.—I'm sorry, I didn't catch your last name. Zane never mentioned it; he's always referred to you by your first name."
"It's okay. I'm Vikram Kyst. Long-time friend of Zane's; I'm looking into your case. We've met a few times, but since you don't remember, I won't make a fuss." Vikram smiled, eyes studying her closely.
"Do you have any idea who might have done this to you? I heard you lost your memory; the incident must have been traumatising." He softened his voice. "If you can tell us even a little, it will help."
Madison's gaze flicked toward me as if asking for permission. I nodded and covered her hand with mine in a show of support.
"I don't really remember much—his face haunts me." Her voice quavered, breathing quickening. "Every night I see his face and those hateful, rage-filled brown eyes—" Her voice broke. I tightened my grip on her hand, unsure if she was truly acting.
"Can you describe him? The attacker's head was blown off and DNA returned no match, but any detail might help." Vikram adjusted his pen.
"Um… he had a mask, but his eyes were brown, and there was a cut in his brow. He wasn't very tall—about five foot six. slightly built." Madison supplied, and Vikram scribbled. "Oh, and the tips of his fingers were slightly discoloured."
"That's right," Vikram muttered, jotting fast. "You've got good detail. I'm sorry you had to relive that, Miss Reyes. Anything else—someone who might've wanted to hurt you, maybe?"
Madison shook her head, her eyes distant.
"Okay. What about Zane? Do you remember why he came to your apartment that day?" Vikram asked. Her brows furrowed, as if digging through fog.
"I'm not sure… something about the wedding. I can't say for certain." She rubbed her temple.
"Are you all right?" I reached for her shoulder; she winced, and I instantly pulled back.
"Sorry."
"It's okay. I'm fine." Her smile was strained, exhaustion showing. For a moment I almost believed her.
"I shouldn't trouble you further." Vikram rose. "Thank you for your time, Miss Reyes."
"I'll be right back… babe." I promised as we left the room.
At the door, Vik placed a hand on my shoulder, his expression heavy. "I'm sorry, man. I'll get to the bottom of this. She didn't deserve that."
"Thanks," I murmured, forcing a smile as guilt pricked my chest. I watched him leave before returning to Madison's room—only to find her standing by Vikram's chair.
"You didn't mention remembering what the attacker looked like," I started, but she pressed a finger to my lips, catching me by surprise.
"What are you—"
She walked to Vikram's chair, retrieved what looked like a recorder, her eyes going cold as she fixed her gaze on the doorway.
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