His for a year. - Chapter 25: Chapter 25
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For a moment, I ignored it, assuming it was another spammy notification or worse—more gossip. But then curiosity got the better of me. I reached for it lazily, already bracing myself.
It was a message from Amanda.
“Hey. Just checking on you. Hope you’re okay.”
I blinked at the screen. My brows furrowed. Just checking on me? Now? After how many hours later? After the video had made rounds across every platform known to man? No calls. No voice notes. Just this cold, uncertain text like she’d just remembered I existed.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but I didn’t type anything. What would I even say? “Thanks for checking on me after the public embarrassment and emotional trauma had finally settled in”? No. I locked the screen and dropped the phone face down.
The silence in the room pressed heavily on me.
That strange photo from earlier still lingered in my thoughts—the one that came in from a weird username. It had no message attached, just the image. I hadn’t shown it to anyone yet. Maybe I was overthinking. Or maybe… not.
Later that night, headlights flashed through the curtains. I moved instinctively. I heard the familiar low hum of Zade’s car pulling into the private drive. My pulse jumped. I hadn’t even realized I was waiting for him.
I stepped out of my room, walking down the hallway with quiet urgency. I didn’t want to be alone with the dread sitting like a stone in my chest. He entered through the back hallway entrance, loosening the top buttons of his shirt as he shrugged out of his blazer.
He looked up the second he saw me.
"You were waiting for me?” he asked, raising a brow as he gave his blazer to the worker waiting on him.
I swallowed. “Yeah. I mean... I wanted to talk to you. But it’s fine. You can freshen up first.”
His gaze lingered on me for a second longer than usual. “Alright,” he said, and without another word, walked toward his room.
By the time we both sat across from each other at the dining, my fingers were clenched around my phone. I handed it to him, my phone's screen up, the photo open.
He glanced at it. Blinked. Then scoffed lightly. “This?”
I nodded. “I don’t know where it came from. No name. No caption. Just that. It felt… weird.”
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out. “It’s the paparazzi. They probably sold it to some tabloid already, or someone’s playing mind games.” He smirked. “You’re such a scaredy cat.”
I wanted to smile, but I didn’t. “It doesn’t feel like paparazzi.”
He tilted his head, studying me for a moment. “Olive, this kind of thing happens all the time. You’re with me now. AvnerTech CEO's wife. People will dig, stalk, lie, take pictures from bushes—whatever it takes to stir something up. You’ve got to get used to it.”
“I know,” I muttered. “But something about this one just… doesn’t sit right.”
He reached across the table, not to touch me, just to lower the phone gently onto the surface between us. “You’re not overthinking it, I get that. But this is the cost of being in the spotlight. They’ll always be watching. Waiting for the tiniest bit of drama.”
“I didn’t even know we were being dramatic,” I said, trying to laugh, but it came out weak.
His eyes softened for a second. “We weren't. But people will make you out to be. They see me with anyone and it becomes a headline. Even my own wife. That’s just how it is.”
I pressed my lips together, still not fully convinced. “It’s not just the photo. It’s how it was sent. No words. No context. Like a warning.”
He leaned in slightly, his voice quiet. “Then consider yourself warned. And be careful not to do anything reckless, yeah?”
I swallowed hard. “I’ll try not to.”
“Good.” He leaned back again, like the weight of the conversation was already done for him. “You don’t need to spiral every time someone sends a creepy photo. Save the fear for real threats.”
“Comforting,” I muttered, but my fingers still twitched under the table.
He caught it, and gave a small, lazy smirk. “Relax, scaredy cat. You’re safe here.”
I nodded, even though my chest said otherwise.
Leo strolled into the dining room without knocking, like he owned the house. He always had that kind of presence—easy and confident.
“Well, good evening,” he said, giving us both a glance that lingered a little too long on the tension hanging in the air. “Looks like I walked in on one of your deep marital negotiations.”
Zade didn’t even look up. “You walked into dinner. Sit down or get out.”
Leo chuckled, grabbing a piece of chicken from the tray on the sideboard before plopping into the seat next to mine. “So, what’s today’s drama? Do I get a clue or should I read about it on a blog tomorrow?”
I shot him a half-hearted smile. “It’s nothing.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” he teased, eyes narrowing as he took a bite.
Zade didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Eat your chicken, Leo.”
He seemed completely done with the day. Zade wasn’t usually this curt with Leo—at least not from what I’d seen. I just hoped it had nothing to do with me.
“I’m just saying,” Leo muttered with a hint of amusement. “You two always have this… tension in the air.”
I knew immediately that I had to leave.
I gave him a polite nod, but my head wasn’t in the conversation anymore. I kept replaying Zade’s words about the paparazzi—about being careful. My phone was still lying face down on the table, like a piece of me I couldn’t fully reclaim.
The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual. The worry hadn’t faded, just tucked itself somewhere behind my ribs. I picked up my phone and texted Zade.
I want to go see Amanda today. Is that okay?
His response came almost instantly:
“Sure. Ray will take you.”
I dressed simply and kept my face bare—no gloss, no blush. There was something about confronting a friend that made me want to be my rawest self. Maybe because I already felt a little peeled open.
Ray was waiting by the car when I stepped out.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded and slid into the back seat.
The drive was quiet, almost peaceful—until we turned into Amanda’s street and the peace cracked.
Just as I opened the car door to step out, I saw someone walking briskly down Amanda’s front steps.
Slender figure. Long coat. Oversized sunglasses and a scarf pulled over her head like she didn’t want to be seen.
But I saw her.
Anna.
My breath stopped.
She didn’t glance around, just moved quickly into a waiting black car and pulled the door shut.
I turned my back immediately until the car drove past me.
I stood frozen for a moment, my foot still on the pavement. A hundred thoughts crashed in at once. What was Anna doing here? How did she even know Amanda? Why was she hiding?
“Miss Olive?” Ray’s voice pulled me back. “Everything okay?”
I turned to him slowly and offered the most practiced smile I could muster. “Yeah. Just… wait here, okay? Don’t drive off yet.”
I stepped away from the house, walking a few feet toward a tree, phone already in hand.
I typed fast.
Hey, Amanda. Where are you?
Seconds passed.
Then a reply.
"Heading to school. I’ve got a lecture in a few."
My chest tightened. I stared at the screen, rereading her message as if I could make the lie go away.
But it didn’t.
Amanda lied to me.
Why?
I looked up at her house again, then back down at my phone.
My best friend just lied to my face. And Anna had just walked out of her house.
My heart didn’t break all at once. It just… cracked quietly. And I felt it.
I didn’t walk up to the house immediately. My fingers trembled as I stared at Amanda’s message again.
Heading to school.
A lie.
Not even a good one.
I inhaled slowly, then made the choice.
I climbed the steps and knocked.
A few seconds later, the door creaked open and there she was—Amanda, my best friend since junior year, with a faint smile like she hadn’t just betrayed something fragile.
“Olive,” she said, like it was casual. Like I didn’t just see the secretary of my pretend husband walk out of her house with a scarf over her head. “Oh my God, I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I texted,” I replied calmly. My voice didn’t match the pounding in my chest.
“Oh,” she blinked, pulling the door open wider. “I must’ve missed it. Come in, girl.”
I stepped inside, scanning the living room like it would reveal secrets. Everything looked normal. But it didn’t feel normal.
“I saw someone leaving,” I said carefully, watching her expression. “A woman.”
Amanda’s face faltered for a split second—just long enough.
“Oh—uh, yeah. A relative of my mom. She came to drop something.” She waved it off with a small laugh, like that explained everything. “You know how distant relatives can just pop up outta nowhere.”
I nodded slowly. She was lying. Again. I could feel it.
Her smile sharpened, like she could sense I wasn’t buying it. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”
I tilted my head. “Why did you lie about being at school?”
She hesitated, then rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Because I will soon be on my way to school, and I knew you’d overthink it. You’ve been through a lot, Olive. I didn’t want to stress you out.”
“By lying? What are you even saying?” I asked softly.
She crossed her arms, the air shifting. “What do you want from me, Olive? You disappear into some billionaire’s life, and suddenly you’re the one questioning me?”
There it was, not guilt. Not confusion.
Defensiveness.
Manipulation, wrapped in that same voice that used to say my name like her favourite word .
I looked around one last time, then back at her. I nodded.
“I just wanted to see you.”
She blinked, caught off-guard by my calmness. “That’s it?”
“Yeah,” I said, stepping back toward the door. “That’s it.”
And I left. I couldn't stand and watch her lie to my face anymore.
Not slamming the door. Not breaking down.
Just walking away.
But the silence inside me was loud. And heavy. I was beginning to accept something I hadn’t wanted to:
Maybe Zade was right, people would do anything. And the worst part was—they’d still smile while doing it.
The ride home was quiet. Ray didn’t ask questions, and I didn’t offer answers. I just sat there, staring out the window, the world blurring past like I wasn't a part of it anymore.
When we pulled into the compound, I thanked him quietly and walked in through the side entrance. The staff barely noticed me; maybe they’d learned that sometimes I just needed to disappear into myself.
I climbed the stairs slowly, my hand dragging along the rail. Each step felt heavier than the last, like my feet were walking through the thick weight of what I couldn’t unsee—Amanda’s face. Her lies. Her ease.
And Anna.
Anna.
Her presence felt like oil seeping into places she didn’t belong. Every time I thought I’d drawn a line, she was two steps ahead, smudging it away with a smile.
What does that woman want from me?
I reached my room and locked the door.
Then sat on the floor, my back against the bed.
No tears came but there was pain.
A jagged, pulsing ache sat right under my collarbone. It was anger. Not the kind that exploded. The kind that simmered. The kind that settled into your ribs and made it hard to breathe.
What did they talk about? Amanda and Anna?
How long had it been going on?
Why?
And how much did they know about me?
My fists clenched before I even realized it, my nails digging into my palms. It was like being slapped in the face without the sound—just the sting, repeating.
Amanda had seen me fall apart. She knew literally every decision I'd made. She'd seen me struggle. She’d seen my mother in that hospital bed. She knew what Anna was to me, to Zade, to everything I was trying to protect.
And she still—
I shut my eyes tight. Shaking off the spiral.
I couldn’t cry. Not right now.
I didn’t trust my tears not to turn into rage.
So I stayed there, on the floor, embracing the silence. Listening to my own heartbeat. Letting the questions fester, the betrayal settle, the confusion wrap itself around me like a second skin.
There was a shift now. In how I saw people. In who I believed.
And I didn’t know if that was a good thing…
Or just the beginning of something worse.
It was a message from Amanda.
“Hey. Just checking on you. Hope you’re okay.”
I blinked at the screen. My brows furrowed. Just checking on me? Now? After how many hours later? After the video had made rounds across every platform known to man? No calls. No voice notes. Just this cold, uncertain text like she’d just remembered I existed.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but I didn’t type anything. What would I even say? “Thanks for checking on me after the public embarrassment and emotional trauma had finally settled in”? No. I locked the screen and dropped the phone face down.
The silence in the room pressed heavily on me.
That strange photo from earlier still lingered in my thoughts—the one that came in from a weird username. It had no message attached, just the image. I hadn’t shown it to anyone yet. Maybe I was overthinking. Or maybe… not.
Later that night, headlights flashed through the curtains. I moved instinctively. I heard the familiar low hum of Zade’s car pulling into the private drive. My pulse jumped. I hadn’t even realized I was waiting for him.
I stepped out of my room, walking down the hallway with quiet urgency. I didn’t want to be alone with the dread sitting like a stone in my chest. He entered through the back hallway entrance, loosening the top buttons of his shirt as he shrugged out of his blazer.
He looked up the second he saw me.
"You were waiting for me?” he asked, raising a brow as he gave his blazer to the worker waiting on him.
I swallowed. “Yeah. I mean... I wanted to talk to you. But it’s fine. You can freshen up first.”
His gaze lingered on me for a second longer than usual. “Alright,” he said, and without another word, walked toward his room.
By the time we both sat across from each other at the dining, my fingers were clenched around my phone. I handed it to him, my phone's screen up, the photo open.
He glanced at it. Blinked. Then scoffed lightly. “This?”
I nodded. “I don’t know where it came from. No name. No caption. Just that. It felt… weird.”
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out. “It’s the paparazzi. They probably sold it to some tabloid already, or someone’s playing mind games.” He smirked. “You’re such a scaredy cat.”
I wanted to smile, but I didn’t. “It doesn’t feel like paparazzi.”
He tilted his head, studying me for a moment. “Olive, this kind of thing happens all the time. You’re with me now. AvnerTech CEO's wife. People will dig, stalk, lie, take pictures from bushes—whatever it takes to stir something up. You’ve got to get used to it.”
“I know,” I muttered. “But something about this one just… doesn’t sit right.”
He reached across the table, not to touch me, just to lower the phone gently onto the surface between us. “You’re not overthinking it, I get that. But this is the cost of being in the spotlight. They’ll always be watching. Waiting for the tiniest bit of drama.”
“I didn’t even know we were being dramatic,” I said, trying to laugh, but it came out weak.
His eyes softened for a second. “We weren't. But people will make you out to be. They see me with anyone and it becomes a headline. Even my own wife. That’s just how it is.”
I pressed my lips together, still not fully convinced. “It’s not just the photo. It’s how it was sent. No words. No context. Like a warning.”
He leaned in slightly, his voice quiet. “Then consider yourself warned. And be careful not to do anything reckless, yeah?”
I swallowed hard. “I’ll try not to.”
“Good.” He leaned back again, like the weight of the conversation was already done for him. “You don’t need to spiral every time someone sends a creepy photo. Save the fear for real threats.”
“Comforting,” I muttered, but my fingers still twitched under the table.
He caught it, and gave a small, lazy smirk. “Relax, scaredy cat. You’re safe here.”
I nodded, even though my chest said otherwise.
Leo strolled into the dining room without knocking, like he owned the house. He always had that kind of presence—easy and confident.
“Well, good evening,” he said, giving us both a glance that lingered a little too long on the tension hanging in the air. “Looks like I walked in on one of your deep marital negotiations.”
Zade didn’t even look up. “You walked into dinner. Sit down or get out.”
Leo chuckled, grabbing a piece of chicken from the tray on the sideboard before plopping into the seat next to mine. “So, what’s today’s drama? Do I get a clue or should I read about it on a blog tomorrow?”
I shot him a half-hearted smile. “It’s nothing.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” he teased, eyes narrowing as he took a bite.
Zade didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Eat your chicken, Leo.”
He seemed completely done with the day. Zade wasn’t usually this curt with Leo—at least not from what I’d seen. I just hoped it had nothing to do with me.
“I’m just saying,” Leo muttered with a hint of amusement. “You two always have this… tension in the air.”
I knew immediately that I had to leave.
I gave him a polite nod, but my head wasn’t in the conversation anymore. I kept replaying Zade’s words about the paparazzi—about being careful. My phone was still lying face down on the table, like a piece of me I couldn’t fully reclaim.
The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual. The worry hadn’t faded, just tucked itself somewhere behind my ribs. I picked up my phone and texted Zade.
I want to go see Amanda today. Is that okay?
His response came almost instantly:
“Sure. Ray will take you.”
I dressed simply and kept my face bare—no gloss, no blush. There was something about confronting a friend that made me want to be my rawest self. Maybe because I already felt a little peeled open.
Ray was waiting by the car when I stepped out.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded and slid into the back seat.
The drive was quiet, almost peaceful—until we turned into Amanda’s street and the peace cracked.
Just as I opened the car door to step out, I saw someone walking briskly down Amanda’s front steps.
Slender figure. Long coat. Oversized sunglasses and a scarf pulled over her head like she didn’t want to be seen.
But I saw her.
Anna.
My breath stopped.
She didn’t glance around, just moved quickly into a waiting black car and pulled the door shut.
I turned my back immediately until the car drove past me.
I stood frozen for a moment, my foot still on the pavement. A hundred thoughts crashed in at once. What was Anna doing here? How did she even know Amanda? Why was she hiding?
“Miss Olive?” Ray’s voice pulled me back. “Everything okay?”
I turned to him slowly and offered the most practiced smile I could muster. “Yeah. Just… wait here, okay? Don’t drive off yet.”
I stepped away from the house, walking a few feet toward a tree, phone already in hand.
I typed fast.
Hey, Amanda. Where are you?
Seconds passed.
Then a reply.
"Heading to school. I’ve got a lecture in a few."
My chest tightened. I stared at the screen, rereading her message as if I could make the lie go away.
But it didn’t.
Amanda lied to me.
Why?
I looked up at her house again, then back down at my phone.
My best friend just lied to my face. And Anna had just walked out of her house.
My heart didn’t break all at once. It just… cracked quietly. And I felt it.
I didn’t walk up to the house immediately. My fingers trembled as I stared at Amanda’s message again.
Heading to school.
A lie.
Not even a good one.
I inhaled slowly, then made the choice.
I climbed the steps and knocked.
A few seconds later, the door creaked open and there she was—Amanda, my best friend since junior year, with a faint smile like she hadn’t just betrayed something fragile.
“Olive,” she said, like it was casual. Like I didn’t just see the secretary of my pretend husband walk out of her house with a scarf over her head. “Oh my God, I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I texted,” I replied calmly. My voice didn’t match the pounding in my chest.
“Oh,” she blinked, pulling the door open wider. “I must’ve missed it. Come in, girl.”
I stepped inside, scanning the living room like it would reveal secrets. Everything looked normal. But it didn’t feel normal.
“I saw someone leaving,” I said carefully, watching her expression. “A woman.”
Amanda’s face faltered for a split second—just long enough.
“Oh—uh, yeah. A relative of my mom. She came to drop something.” She waved it off with a small laugh, like that explained everything. “You know how distant relatives can just pop up outta nowhere.”
I nodded slowly. She was lying. Again. I could feel it.
Her smile sharpened, like she could sense I wasn’t buying it. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”
I tilted my head. “Why did you lie about being at school?”
She hesitated, then rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Because I will soon be on my way to school, and I knew you’d overthink it. You’ve been through a lot, Olive. I didn’t want to stress you out.”
“By lying? What are you even saying?” I asked softly.
She crossed her arms, the air shifting. “What do you want from me, Olive? You disappear into some billionaire’s life, and suddenly you’re the one questioning me?”
There it was, not guilt. Not confusion.
Defensiveness.
Manipulation, wrapped in that same voice that used to say my name like her favourite word .
I looked around one last time, then back at her. I nodded.
“I just wanted to see you.”
She blinked, caught off-guard by my calmness. “That’s it?”
“Yeah,” I said, stepping back toward the door. “That’s it.”
And I left. I couldn't stand and watch her lie to my face anymore.
Not slamming the door. Not breaking down.
Just walking away.
But the silence inside me was loud. And heavy. I was beginning to accept something I hadn’t wanted to:
Maybe Zade was right, people would do anything. And the worst part was—they’d still smile while doing it.
The ride home was quiet. Ray didn’t ask questions, and I didn’t offer answers. I just sat there, staring out the window, the world blurring past like I wasn't a part of it anymore.
When we pulled into the compound, I thanked him quietly and walked in through the side entrance. The staff barely noticed me; maybe they’d learned that sometimes I just needed to disappear into myself.
I climbed the stairs slowly, my hand dragging along the rail. Each step felt heavier than the last, like my feet were walking through the thick weight of what I couldn’t unsee—Amanda’s face. Her lies. Her ease.
And Anna.
Anna.
Her presence felt like oil seeping into places she didn’t belong. Every time I thought I’d drawn a line, she was two steps ahead, smudging it away with a smile.
What does that woman want from me?
I reached my room and locked the door.
Then sat on the floor, my back against the bed.
No tears came but there was pain.
A jagged, pulsing ache sat right under my collarbone. It was anger. Not the kind that exploded. The kind that simmered. The kind that settled into your ribs and made it hard to breathe.
What did they talk about? Amanda and Anna?
How long had it been going on?
Why?
And how much did they know about me?
My fists clenched before I even realized it, my nails digging into my palms. It was like being slapped in the face without the sound—just the sting, repeating.
Amanda had seen me fall apart. She knew literally every decision I'd made. She'd seen me struggle. She’d seen my mother in that hospital bed. She knew what Anna was to me, to Zade, to everything I was trying to protect.
And she still—
I shut my eyes tight. Shaking off the spiral.
I couldn’t cry. Not right now.
I didn’t trust my tears not to turn into rage.
So I stayed there, on the floor, embracing the silence. Listening to my own heartbeat. Letting the questions fester, the betrayal settle, the confusion wrap itself around me like a second skin.
There was a shift now. In how I saw people. In who I believed.
And I didn’t know if that was a good thing…
Or just the beginning of something worse.
End of His for a year. Chapter 25. Continue reading Chapter 26 or return to His for a year. book page.