CHAPTER 7: ECHOES FROM THE PAST
1189 Words
The night was heavy with unsaid words.
Zariah lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling as rain tapped rhythmically against her window. Adrian’s voice still haunted her thoughts—his confessions, his promises, the pain etched into every syllable. She didn’t know if it was foolish to believe him… but somehow, his pain had felt real. And more unsettling than his sorrow was how her heart had ached for him.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was nearly midnight.
She glanced at the screen.
**Unknown Number.**
Her heart paused.
Curious and uneasy, she answered. “Hello?”
A breath. Then a female voice, smooth and low, with an unmistakable edge.
“You don’t know me, Zariah. But you *should* have.”
Zariah sat upright. “Who is this?”
“You want the truth about Adrian Voss?” The voice was eerily calm. “Meet me at the Orchid Lounge. Tomorrow. Noon. Don’t bring him.”
The call ended before she could say another word.
Zariah’s fingers trembled slightly as she set the phone down. She couldn’t shake the icy dread that crept up her spine. Was this another woman? Another betrayal?
Or something worse?
---
The next day, Zariah walked into the Orchid Lounge wearing a trench coat and oversized sunglasses, trying not to draw attention. The lounge was elegant but discreet, with velvet booths and the scent of bergamot and bourbon lingering in the air.
Seated at the far end was a woman in a crimson silk blouse, her beauty sharp and deliberate—like a knife dressed in perfume. Her eyes flicked up as Zariah approached, and her red lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“You came,” the woman said, gesturing to the seat across from her.
Zariah sat cautiously. “You said you had something to tell me. About Adrian.”
The woman sipped her drink, watching her with unsettling patience. “I’m Evelyn Marek. I was Ethan’s fiancée.”
Zariah froze.
“I didn’t know you existed,” Evelyn continued. “Until recently. You see, Adrian kept you well hidden while he was playing hero in his brother’s mess. But Ethan… he told me things before he died. Things you need to hear.”
Zariah swallowed hard. “Like what?”
Evelyn leaned forward. “Adrian didn’t just cover for Ethan’s debts. He *inherited* them. Voluntarily. He paid off the Bratva in full to protect the family name—and to bury the real reason Ethan died.”
Zariah’s throat tightened. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying Ethan’s death wasn’t an accident.” Evelyn’s voice trembled now, the first crack in her polished exterior. “He was murdered. And Adrian knew the moment he saw the body. But instead of calling the police, he made a deal. He gave up part of his company—your inheritance too, I assume—to buy silence.”
Zariah felt her blood go cold.
Murder?
No. No, Adrian would have told her. Wouldn’t he?
Evelyn slid a small USB across the table. “This has the police report, the name of the fixer Adrian used, and surveillance footage from that night. You can believe him if you want—but now you’ll know the full truth.”
Zariah stared at the device, her stomach churning. “Why are you giving me this?”
Evelyn’s smile vanished. “Because I loved Ethan. And whatever revenge I once wanted... it’s not enough anymore. But you? You’re still tangled in Adrian’s world. If you’re going to stay, at least see the real man you’re dealing with.”
Zariah clutched the USB in her hand as Evelyn rose, leaving behind the scent of jasmine and blood-soaked secrets.
---
Later that night, Zariah sat in her apartment, the USB plugged into her laptop. What she saw took her breath away.
Footage of Adrian entering a private garage. The bruised body of Ethan lying next to a sleek black car. A second man—tall, broad, face blurred—approached Adrian, said something, and handed him a phone.
Then Adrian’s voice, faint but unmistakable, came through a muffled audio feed: “He’s gone. I’ll take care of it. No police.”
Zariah gasped.
He had known.
And he had lied.
---
The next morning, Zariah found herself on Adrian’s penthouse doorstep. She didn’t remember the drive or how her fingers had stopped shaking long enough to ring the bell. She just knew she had to see him. Had to *ask*.
When the door opened, Adrian was shirtless, tousled from sleep, his eyes widening at the sight of her.
“Zariah,” he breathed, voice husky. “I didn’t expect—”
“Who killed Ethan?”
His body went rigid.
She stepped past him, into the vast apartment that once felt like a dream and now felt like a battleground. “I know you lied to me,” she said, spinning around to face him. “I saw the footage. I know there’s more.”
Adrian closed the door silently. “Where did you get it?”
“Does it matter?” she snapped. “Just tell me the truth. Did you know he was murdered?”
He rubbed a hand down his face. “Yes.”
A beat of silence passed between them. Zariah felt as if her heart had cracked open.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Adrian’s voice was thick. “Because I knew what it would do to you. I knew it would destroy you. Ethan was already gone, and the man who did it… he’s not someone the police could ever touch. He’s the reason I’ve been paying, hiding, sacrificing. For *you*. For Ethan’s memory. For *us*—if there was still an *us* left to save.”
Tears burned her eyes. “You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle.”
He took a step forward, slow, like approaching a wounded animal. “Zariah, I didn’t just lose Ethan that night. I lost everything. I buried myself in guilt and silence and deals with devils because I thought that was the only way to protect what mattered. But I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you.”
His voice broke. “I was afraid you’d leave.”
Zariah felt the anger drain out of her, replaced by something softer… more dangerous. Compassion. Understanding. *Love*—no matter how much she tried to bury it.
“Adrian…” she whispered.
His hand cupped her cheek, and the touch seared through her. “You’re the only truth I have left.”
And in that fragile moment, with their secrets unraveling and the world tilting under their feet, Zariah closed the distance between them. Their lips met—tentative at first, then desperate, as if trying to rewrite all the pain, all the loss, with one stolen kiss.
She pulled away, breathless, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I don’t know where we go from here.”
Adrian touched her forehead with his, his breath mingling with hers. “Then let’s find out together.”
- Writer
