Beneath the Vows
1187 Words
Chapter Five
Zara’s body was still trembling. The stranger’s words echoed in her head, looping over and over until they didn’t feel like words anymore—just a warning carved into her bones.
"Do you trust him?"
"Because you shouldn't."
She could still feel the ghost of his grip on her wrist, still hear the soft chuckle that made her skin crawl.
Kian stood by the shattered balcony doors, shoulders tense, fingers still wrapped around the g*n. He hadn’t moved since the man disappeared. The air between them was thick—so heavy it felt like a wall.
Zara swallowed, forcing her voice to steady. “Who was that?”
Kian didn’t answer immediately. He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face before turning to her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes were darker than she had ever seen them.
“You need to leave,” he said again.
Zara’s chest tightened. “Stop saying that.”
“I mean it.” His voice was flat, final. “Pack your things and go.”
She stared at him, disbelief creeping in. “That man just broke into your home. He knew me. He—” She exhaled, shaking her head. “And now you’re telling me to leave? After everything?”
“This isn’t about you,” Kian said, his tone clipped.
“Then why was he here? Why did he say I was in deeper than I knew?” Her voice rose slightly, frustration laced with fear. “Kian, I deserve to know what’s going on.”
He clenched his jaw. “No, you don’t.”
Zara’s breath hitched. It shouldn’t have stung. This was a contract, not a real marriage. She wasn’t his wife. She wasn’t entitled to his secrets. But still—
Her fingers curled into fists. “You think pushing me away is going to fix this? It’s too late, Kian. I was here. I saw him. He—” Her voice faltered. “He touched me.”
Kian’s entire body went rigid.
The air changed.
It was subtle, but Zara felt it.
...like something inside him had snapped, like a rope pulled too tight had finally frayed.
His eyes flickered down to her wrist.
“Where?” His voice was dangerously low.
Zara hesitated, unnerved by the sudden shift in his demeanor. “Kian—”
“Where, Zara?”
Slowly, she raised her arm. A faint bruise was already forming where the man had gripped her wrist.
Kian stepped forward. Gently, but without hesitation, he took her hand in his, his thumb tracing over the bruise. His touch was careful, almost too careful, like he was holding back something violent.
Zara expected him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening just slightly before he let go.
“I should have killed him,” he muttered.
The words sent a chill through her.
She had known from the beginning that Kian Duru wasn’t just a businessman. There was something darker lurking beneath the polished suits and expensive watches. But hearing it—hearing the casual way he said it, like it was just another task on his to-do list—made the truth sink in deeper.
Kian wasn’t just dangerous.
He was lethal.
Zara swallowed. “Who was he?”
Kian’s jaw ticked. He turned away, stepping toward the dresser, opening a drawer and pulling out a phone. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.”
“No, Zara.” He turned back to her, his expression colder than before. “It doesn’t.”
She hated this. The shutting out. The deliberate way he was keeping her in the dark.
But what scared her most?
The flicker of fear beneath the ice in his eyes.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t just about her.
It was about him.
The phone in his hand rang before he even had the chance to dial. He glanced at the screen, his expression unreadable as he answered.
“Yeah.” A pause. His eyes darkened. “No. He got away.”
Zara’s pulse spiked. He was talking about the intruder.
She stayed silent, straining to hear, but Kian barely said anything else—just short, clipped responses. Then, finally..
“I’ll handle it.”
He hung up.
The silence stretched between them.
Zara took a step forward. “Kian—”
“You should get some sleep,” he said, cutting her off.
She stared at him, frustration bubbling. “Sleep?” she repeated. “You want me to sleep after—”
“I’ll be gone for a few hours,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Security will be doubled. Stay in this room. Don’t open the door for anyone but me.”
Zara’s stomach turned. “You’re leaving?”
Kian’s lips pressed into a thin line. “There’s something I need to take care of.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “You mean something you won’t tell me about?”
He didn’t respond.
Zara let out a bitter laugh. “Right. Of course. That’s how this works, right? I stay here, play the good little wife, and pretend I don’t see the cracks forming around me.”
Kian exhaled slowly. “Zara—”
“No.” She stepped closer, anger overriding her fear. “I might be stuck in this arrangement, but I’m not blind, Kian. And I’m not stupid. That man wasn’t just some random threat. He came here because of you.”
Kian’s gaze darkened. “And that’s exactly why you need to stay out of it.”
Zara shook her head. “I’m already in it.”
For the first time, his mask slipped just slightly. “Not the way you think.”
Zara’s breath caught. She didn’t know what that meant, but something told her—if she pushed too hard, she might not like the answer.
Still, she couldn’t let it go.
She took another step, her voice quieter now. “Kian… who was she?”
He stilled.
She didn’t need to clarify. She could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, in the way his jaw locked.
His fiancée.
The one who had died.
The one whose place she was now standing in.
For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer.
Then, in a voice so low she almost didn’t hear it, he said
“She was everything I couldn’t protect.”
Zara’s chest ached.
And suddenly, she understood.
This wasn’t just about business. It wasn’t just about the company.
This was about ghosts.
Kian’s.
And now, hers too.
She exhaled shakily, but before she could say anything else, Kian turned for the door.
He hesitated just briefly, glancing over his shoulder.
“Lock the door,” he murmured.
Then, he was gone.
Zara stood there for a long time, staring at the closed door.
Sleep? Impossible.
Because for the first time, she wasn’t just afraid of the man who had broken in.
She was afraid of the man who had stayed.
And what he might do next.
- Writer
