Chapter 3: The Enemy You Loved
1141 Words
Zara Malik’s POV
“Elias?” My voice cracked with disbelief. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He turned slowly, his face lighting up in fake surprise. “Zara! Oh my God!” He rushed over and wrapped his arms around me like nothing had happened—like I hadn’t screamed his name while being dragged from our home two nights ago.
I didn’t move. I stood stiff in his embrace.
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” he said quickly. “I came here as soon as I found out what they did. I swear I didn’t know, Zara. I didn’t know they were going to take you like that.”
I stepped back. “You live here?”
“No, no—of course not. I’ve just been working with Kian to try to get you out of this mess. It’s complicated.”
“You didn’t answer your phone. I called you. I screamed for you.”
“I was in meetings. Overseas. I only found out after you were brought here.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Then why were you laughing with him just now?”
He faltered for a second. Just a second. Then recovered.
“Kian said you were adjusting. That you were safe. I was relieved. That’s all. I’ve been worried sick.”
Lies. They tasted like metal on my tongue.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t blame you,” he said softly. “But you will. Just give me time to explain.”
I glanced past him. Kian was gone. Probably watching us from one of his little cameras. My skin crawled.
“Explain now.”
He hesitated. “Not here. It’s not safe. Meet me later. Midnight. In the garden. Behind the fountain.”
“I’m not sneaking around.”
“Please, Zara. You’re not the only one caught in this.”
He reached out and touched my shoulder. I pulled away.
I walked off without another word, and his voice followed.
“I swear, I’m still your brother.”
Were you ever?
---
Kian Blackwood’s POV
She almost fell for it.
I watched them from the surveillance feed, two floors above, swirling whiskey in my glass like it mattered. The room was dim. The screen glowed with her face.
Zara.
Defiant even in betrayal.
Elias had always been a good liar. I paid him well enough. But watching him touch her—pretend to care—I wanted to shatter the screen.
She didn’t know yet. Not the whole truth.
But soon she would.
And then she’d hate us both.
I leaned back in the chair.
“She still trusts him,” I muttered.
Gideon, sitting across from me, didn’t look up from his tablet. “Let her. She’ll break faster when she finds out.”
“She doesn’t need to break. Just bend.”
He chuckled. “That’s the difference between you and me, Kian. I don’t mind watching them snap.”
I took a slow sip.
“She’s stronger than I expected.”
“And more dangerous than you think.”
I didn’t respond. The camera followed her retreating form down the hallway.
“Prepare the car for tomorrow,” I said finally.
Gideon raised a brow. “You’re taking her out?”
“She’s going to be seen as my wife. Whether she likes it or not.”
---
Zara Malik’s POV
I locked my door.
Not that it mattered.
Kian could walk in whenever he wanted.
I paced the room, still replaying Elias’s voice in my head.
Midnight. Behind the fountain.
Why did that sound like a trap?
I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the window. No stars. Just clouds.
The door creaked open.
I turned sharply.
Kian stepped inside, wearing black again. He moved like he owned every shadow in the room.
“Get out,” I said immediately.
He ignored me.
He closed the door behind him, then crossed the space in silence.
“I said get out.”
“I need silence,” he said calmly.
“Then go to hell. It’s quiet there.”
He walked closer. “You’ve had a long day. I can see it in your eyes.”
I stepped back. “Don’t pretend you care.”
“I don’t,” he said, stopping just inches from me. “But I don’t like chaos in my house.”
“Then stop k********g people.”
He reached up slowly.
I flinched.
He didn’t hit me. Didn’t touch me.
He just brushed a strand of hair from my cheek.
His fingers lingered too long.
I caught his wrist. “Don’t.”
His eyes met mine. “You hate me. I can feel it.”
“I want to rip you apart.”
He smirked faintly. “Good. Keep that fire. You’ll need it tomorrow.”
I dropped his wrist. “What happens tomorrow?”
He turned toward the door. “You’ll be my wife. In public.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He looked over his shoulder.
“If you don’t wear the dress I send tomorrow morning… I’ll bury Elias.”
My stomach dropped. “You’re bluffing.”
“Am I?”
He left without another word.
---
The next morning, a white box sat on my bed.
Inside: a white silk dress. Diamonds at the neck. Backless. Thin as sin.
I got dressed.
I didn’t do it for him.
I did it to protect Elias. Even if he didn’t deserve it.
The car was waiting outside. I stepped in. Kian was already seated, looking out the window like this was a business trip.
We didn’t speak the entire ride.
The event was a charity gala. Cameras everywhere. Lights. People are calling his name.
The moment we stepped out, his hand gripped mine.
A perfect couple.
Smiling for wolves.
He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t forget to smile. You’re the luckiest bride in the world.”
“I’d rather be dead.”
“You might get your wish.”
That night, when we returned, I stormed past him and into the mansion.
But I didn’t go to my room.
I went to his office.
The one with the gold handles and locked drawers.
I’d stolen a key from the butler during dinner.
I slid it into the drawer.
Click.
Inside: files.
Stacks of them.
Most were business.
But one folder was marked with my name.
Just my name.
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Photos.
Dates.
Locations.
Me.
Me at school. I'm with friends. Me walking home. Me inside our old apartment. Me at the gravesite. Me crying in my room.
Surveillance.
Two years' worth.
“You’ve been watching me,” I whispered.
A voice behind me answered.
“Long before this marriage.”
- Writer
