/Madison's POV/
"Maddy."
I think something's got Zane's pants in a bunch this morning. Probably something to do with that friend he's meeting, but something about his attitude didn't sit well with the leftover fluttering feelings from the night before—pushing me off my high and snapping me right back to reality.
Face straight, tone cold… a total contrast to how he was in bed last night. It was confusing—troubling too.
Even as I lay in bed this morning, he was all I could think about—his addictive touch I'd tried so hard to resist, his intoxicating kiss that left me feeling heady. I can't even remember the last time I gave in to someone like that.
This would've been impossible if Allison were here. It made me feel guilty and sympathetic at the same time.
I'm still getting to know the kind of person Zane is. Every day I learn something new about him—like the cold look he had on his face this morning. Even when we first met, Zane maintained a business smile: polite but not too friendly. This was the first time he'd ever shown me that cold side of him I'd read about.
His walls, high and guarded as if afraid someone would break through, had begun to shrink as time moved on, and the closer I got, the clearer I could see through his stoic mask.
Things probably wouldn't change between me and Zane — and I'm counting on it, since I don't want to date anyone. Even with Allison gone, it still feels wrong. Though I hate to admit it, I do enjoy his company — I enjoy what he does to me, the thrill of being the object of his treacherous affections.
After last night, I could no longer deny I wanted the guy, even if he still has feelings for my sister. Do I want him to have feelings for me? I'm not sure.
"Maddy!" Kim slapped my shoulder, jolting me right back to consciousness.
"What the—what's that about?" She raised a suspicious brow, and I sighed softly, leaning back in the chair.
After watching Zane leave, I returned to my room, my thoughts still rampaging about the stark difference between his attitude the previous night and this morning.
For a second, I dreaded that he might've recalled what happened last night. I bit down on my lip as guilt gnawed at my conscience. I missed the timing to tell Zane about his sleepwalking, and now I can't bring myself to mention it after what's happened between us since then.
I'm not sure which scares me more — him finding out and blaming himself for putting me in an uncomfortable situation, or him immediately putting distance between us because he feels guilty toward Allison for what happened.
I didn't want either of those things to happen, so I found myself keeping quiet about it, stacking guilt upon guilt — toward both him and Allison.
I could feel myself getting greedy, my inner alarms going off as if to warn me I'd regret my choices.
I was tired of entertaining those thoughts. The reminder that Zane wasn't mine was painful, and the itch to distract myself made me leave the house the moment I heard Zane's footsteps on the stairs — right after confirming the sound of his car leaving the driveway.
"Seriously, you're doing it again," Kim complained, dropping a bottle of red wine in the middle of our table with two wine glasses. "You said you wanted to talk — even if I did keep you waiting a few minutes—"
"It was half an hour," I pointed out as she poured our drinks. It was the weekend, and I came to find Kim at her home, hoping she'd at least be free — but the bitch kept me waiting, tending to something urgent over the phone.
I've always known she was a workaholic, but I never wanted to see it in person. At least she's living a good life. My eyes swept her luxurious mansion — Zane's home felt a lot cozier compared to her style, which made the vast space feel empty despite the extravagant décor.
"It was still minutes," Kim argued, and I replied with an exasperated sigh.
"Something bothering you?" she asked as my brows creased into a frown.
"Not exactly," I lied, unsure I wanted to start unloading my life problems on an information broker.
"How long are you planning on staying in the city?" she asked, but didn't give me the privilege of a response before tabling her demands. "Come work for me, will you? I need a more experienced and…" She paused, searching for the words. "Seasoned courier. You've got a pretty good handle on the job—you could—"
"Kim." I called with a blank stare.
Disgruntled, she sighed and leaned back into her couch. "Alright, fine," she conceded. "I knew you were gonna turn me down, but it was worth a shot. Anyway, what brings you here?" she finally asked just as I reached for my cup, filled the glass, and emptied it just as fast before turning my attention back to her.
"I need you to look into the identity of my sister's killer—the one who got his head blown off," I revealed, watching her bite down on her bottom lip as anxious lines formed across her face.
"I'll help you… in return, do me a favour."
I gave her a cold stare.
"This is important to me, Maddy. If this works, I'll forgive your commissions—until you finish your sister's investigation. I promise."
"You won't be charging me for the information you provide throughout the entire investigation?" I asked, and she nodded.
"You're kidding."
"I'm not," she said sharply. "We've worked together, Maddy. You're good—which is why I want you to handle something for me. Please."
I groaned. "What's this about?" My eyes lit up in curiosity.
She adjusted in her seat and took a deep breath. "One of my best couriers was delivering a very important parcel recently, but he ran into some difficulty and had to leave—but not before he successfully hid it. The plan was to retrieve the damn thing later, but… he's dead now." Her tone dipped.
"Hope you gave him a huge hazard pay for that?" I commented, but Kim's expression remained grim, which was unexpected.
People think money and drugs are the most dangerous things to trade — wait until you start dealing information. It's like playing chess with death, every move eating you alive without knowing who's moving the final piece.
"Well, he knew what he signed up for." Kim's face, which hadn't worn an expression in a while, now wore her sadness like a sleeve. It was enough for me to guess she was a little more involved with the dead guy — which kind of went against our beliefs.
'You fuck on the job, you fuck with the job.'
I flinched as my mentor's voice rang through my head — her takeaway mantra for everyone she took in. It felt like a warning cry against my situation with Zane.
Every fibre of my being continuously screamed that I was making a mistake, but the rebellious part of me shrugged it off. 'What could possibly go wrong? It's not like I'm planning to marry the guy.'
"I'm guessing the guy wasn't just a simple courier?" My question forced a bitter smile out of Kim.
"Was it that obvious?" she asked while pouring herself a drink. "Anyway, he locked the parcel in a safe at an abandoned shed, but the place is crawling with security. They're trying to break into the safe and retrieve the information locked in it — but we need to get it back, and that's why I need you." She briefed, and I sighed softly.
"Can I think about it?" I asked Kim, who nodded vigorously in response.
"Okay, I can finally focus on this drink now," I mumbled as I refilled my glass — and hers.
Kim chuckled, reaching for her glass. We ate, we drank, and we also reminisced about the past I've been painstakingly trying to bury — a part of me I never wanted to relive.
I didn't mean to, but I ended up getting a little tipsy before leaving her side — which wasn't great, because it was late evening by the time I returned home, swaying on my feet after successfully slipping back into the house through my window.
I staggered toward the bathroom to shower and sober up with a hot soak. I'm not sure, but it felt like Zane was in the corner of the room — or maybe it was just my brain playing tricks on me.
I'd just gotten out of my jeans, leaving me in just my top and panties, when Zane's figure became a tad clearer.
"Oh, it's Zane." I belched. "I'm sorry about that. What are you doing in my room? Wait… are you sleeping again? It's not even midnight." I asked while he narrowed his eyes at me in surprise.
"Are you drunk?" He sounded pretty shocked.
"I… just… had… a… drink… um… wine with a friend." My words came out slurred. "I think we might've ended up finishing the whole damn bottle — or maybe two more. It was really good. Apparently, her boyfriend died. I don't know what's with people and boyfriends when they could just enjoy a good fuck and get it over with."
My eyes caught an amused smile on Zane, and I groaned. "There he goes again," I complained. "Can you stop doing that? You keep messing with my head."
Now he looked confused.
"Oh, I should've fucked you out of my system when I had the chance." I turned back to the door, slammed my head against it, and staggered backward—but was caught by Zane before I hit the floor.
My eyes met his—mesmerised by the glistening green in them—and my mouth moved without my brain's consent. "Wow, this is a pretty good angle. Hey, handsome, wanna come with me tonight? Oh right… I live with someone now."
"Oh God," Zane groaned in disbelief.
"Does that make you uncomfortable?" I asked, frowning.
"You know," I chuckled, "you sound just like him." I tilted my head, studying him. "Your face looks similar too. Come here."
I grabbed his chin and tossed his head gently from side to side, scrutinising his face as if trying to find the difference between the Zane in my head and the one holding me.
"Maddy, you're drunk," he called out awkwardly after slipping his chin free from my grasp
I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him closer. "You smell just like him too."
I felt his hold on me stiffen. Then I pulled his face closer, stealing his lips.
"And you taste just like him too."
His eyes widened as I licked my bottom lip with my tongue, smirking.
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