/Madison's POV/
All through our little interrogation, I could tell how much Zane trusted his friend — but I'm not sure the feeling was mutual.
Vikram didn't trust Zane. I could see it in his eyes. Maybe it's because they know each other too well; that kind of familiarity always makes people look twice.
"Hold me right now," I whispered, taking Zane by surprise, but he still managed to princess-carry me before Vikram pushed the door open.
"Sorry, I forgot something," Vikram said with that mischievous look I could see right through. "Did I interrupt something?" Suspicion flashed in his eyes.
"No. I was just taking Allison to the bathroom," Zane lied smoothly. My arms tightened around his neck, and I rested my head against his chest. His heartbeat thrummed steadily beneath my ear—strong and strangely comforting. Or maybe they were getting louder?
Vikram brushed past us to grab his recorder, while Zane moved me to the bathroom and gently placed me down, making sure my feet touched the ground before he withdrew his hands. Something about the gentleness in his actions made me smile — almost like I was really injured and he was being careful.
"I'm sorry he didn't buy it. It's really not because of you. You were impressive."
As much as I'd like to relish his compliment, that's not quite what I saw.
"He bought it — in fact, he ate it." He frowned. "It's you he doesn't trust."
"I'm not exactly sure what he was thinking the whole time, but his eyes kept darting to you… he was studying you, Zane. And beneath all that composed façade, I saw fear. Not that he's scared of you—it's more like he's scared for you. He was looking at me like a victim. I mean I was but—"
Zane scoffed. "He really thinks I hurt Allison."
"Have you done anything that would make him think that?" I found myself asking.
Our gazes stayed on each other. The silence stretched into uncomfortable awkwardness before he exhaled.
"Yeah, a few years ago." He finally confessed. "It actually started back when I was in high school, but the one Vik holds against me would be the one from three years ago — it changed our relationship. I just thought he was over it… guess not."
"You wanna talk about it?"
He paused, but his unyielding gaze stayed on me.
"Okay, got it. But you should really leave now. I need to use the bathroom." That earned a quiet chuckle from him.
Rising to his feet, his face curved into a smile. "Thanks for today, by the way."
I nodded, watching him leave — his footsteps fading down the hall, leaving behind a trail of restless thoughts.
I might not have pushed Zane to tell me why Vikram doubted him, but that didn't mean I wouldn't find out. Because who actually knows what led to my sister's death.
Once alone, I locked my door and pulled out the files on Zane again. I'd skipped a lot of things before, only gunning for the ones that benefited my investigation, but in doing that, I missed a juicy little detail about him.
Zane used to be a school delinquent. I chuckled while reading his history. I mean, I wasn't expecting him to be a model student, but he had quite a chaotic school life.
Despite always being ahead of his class, Zane had a nasty habit — he's vengeful and tends to get even.
"Wow," I muttered, reading about how he pushed a student down the stairs because they dumped his books and school bag in the toilet —typical bullying case—and I strangely relished how he handled the payback.
Then came another: he ran over a guy who'd assaulted Allison. Landed the bastard in hospital, then settled it quietly through his lawyer. But that wasn't even the juiciest one.
Three years ago, Vikram was involved — and the smile on my lips vanished as I read.
Allison was kidnapped two years ago. They demanded ransom, and Vikram handled the case. Vikram was shot during the rescue mission. Zane, although he managed to give the kidnappers what they wanted, also used the opportunity to set the hideout on fire.
One of the kidnappers died in the process, and the other two suffered second-degree burns. Zane wasn't charged because there was no evidence suggesting his involvement.
I'm almost jealous of his history with Allison—they've been through so much together, and suddenly all his actions made sense.
If Vik is judging Zane because of what happened two years ago, it can only mean he's certain Zane was behind roasting the kidnappers. Then he'd be sure Zane would stay true to his nature by pulling a similar stunt again.
He didn't trust him to stay idle after what happened to Allison, considering how much he'd cared and sacrificed for her. And if he is staying idle, it only means he wanted it to happen.
He probably thinks Zane let Allison's stabbing happen because of the whole cheating thing.
Vik was right about one thing, though—Zane isn't willing to let Allison's murder slide.
I guess this is what happens when you know too much about someone.
My eyes caught Vikram's name again in the files. He used to be bullied a lot in school because of his race, and Zane, being his friend, used to get back at his bullies — just not in the nicest ways.
They have quite the history… now I know why Vik doesn't trust Zane entirely about this case, and why Zane couldn't bring himself to tell Vik his plans despite that history.
Zane was a beautiful psycho wrapped in a business suit—and something about it thrilled me. Probably because I've spent a decade dealing with people like him.
I sighed, returned the files to the hidden compartment I'd made inside the mattress, then went to bed, plagued by thoughts of Zane.
I didn't see him again until dinner, and I was already done by the time he came out of his room to get started.
He looked like he hadn't recovered from Vik's visit. I wondered if our interaction dredged up bad memories he'd rather not revisit — but I guess that meant he'd head to bed early tonight, which meant I could slip out and meet Kim. Or so I thought.
I was drawing out a map with Allison in the middle, linking her to Zane, Elias, and the killer while stating their relationships.
"I seriously don't want to talk to Elias, but no matter how much I think about it, it's the only next action I can think of."
With Allison being a celebrity and Zane being quite the vengeful spirit, the range of my sister's killer has pretty much broadened rather than narrowed.
It could be someone after Allison herself, or someone wanting to get to Zane but targeting my sister, knowing how much she meant to him. After all, they were a public couple — almost everyone knew about their relationship.
I rubbed my eyes tiredly. This was getting me anywhere, and the next action to get my leads doesn't seem easy.
I need Kim to find the real identity of the murderer. His head might be blown off, but I can trust Kim to find clues about who he was.
I was dozing off when Zane walked into my room. I must have forgotten to lock my door.
He was already cuddling me when I opened my eyes. His hold tightened when I tried to get up, but I still managed to turn and face him.
He was asleep, but the pain in his dazed eyes remained raw. I reached for his face, and he winced slightly, like I'd touched an open wound—only to relax into it. Even with the air slightly chilly, he was sweating.
I wondered what type of nightmare he was trapped in this time.
Zane held my hand to his face, and I felt his unsteady breathing grow even. He pulled me closer.
"Y'know, any closer than this and I might just go inside you," I complained, not that he heard.
He laid his head on my chest, then exhaled softly as if thankful for my echoing heartbeat.
He seriously has no idea what he does to me.
The warmth radiating from him etched into my body, setting it ablaze with need. My hands moved into his hair, brushing the soft strands of his dark brown locks, enjoying the silky feeling against my skin.
Zane shifted in my arms. I could feel the loud drumming of my heartbeat as his face inched closer to mine until his lips hovered over mine.
His hand gently moved along my waist, leaving every point of contact tingling with anticipation. Then our lips met—at first gentle, until the last shred of control snapped and I pulled him closer, shutting my eyes as I gave in to his intoxicating touch. My back arched when his palm slipped under my top, groping the skin around my waist as his tongue met mine, his touch light but searing.
I hungrily drew him in—his touch felt like rain after a prolonged drought.
The sounds of the encroaching night slowly faded under the intensity of his overwhelming kiss, shrouding my senses until nothing but lust operated.
I moaned. My lips trembled against his as he drew back, only to crash into me again—and like waves crashing against the shore, my guilt over giving in to his enslaving touch slowly chipped away, piece by piece.
Zane's tongue battled mine until my lungs craved air. As usual, he tasted like coffee—strong, bitter, addictive. I pulled back, panting softly, my pulse thrumming in my throat.
Satisfaction spilled into his face with a smile, and I scoffed.
"You have no idea what you just unleashed, Zane." I told him, but he only snuggled me closer. His eyes finally closed.
Deep down, I knew there was no going back from this.
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