His for a year. - Chapter 29: Chapter 29
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She was by my bed, hunched over and scrambling through my pillows like she’d either lost something… or just planted something there.
“Amanda?” My voice was firm, low. “What are you doing?”
She jolted like she’d been electrocuted. She spun around, her eyes wide, guilt flickering just long enough to catch.
“Oh, hi!” she said too brightly. “I was just… I mean, Zade invited us, so I thought I’d surprise you.”
“By digging through my bed?”
Amanda blinked. Her smile faltered, then twisted into something sharper. “Wow. So now that you’re married to a billionaire, you interrogate me like I’m a peasant?”
My lips parted, startled. “That’s not—”
“I was trying to be sweet. Spontaneous. But clearly, you’re too rich and paranoid now to appreciate friendship,” she said, brushing invisible dust off her dress. “You’ve really changed, Olive.”
Her tone was wounded, almost believable. And it messed with my mind.
I should’ve called her out, demanded to know what she was really doing. But a small part of me—the part that missed our old friendship, that still remembered childhood sleepovers and whispered secrets—was hesitating. Amanda had an ounce of sincerity… or maybe she was just a phenomenal actress.
I stood there, mind spinning, watching Amanda walk past me like nothing had happened.
I didn’t know whether to apologize or scream. Did I sound too harsh?
Instead, I bent down, grabbed the pair of flat Hermès sandals from the closet, and walked back to the party with my heart pounding in my ears.
The moment I handed the shoes to Aliyah, I looked around. No sign of Zade. His absence made me feel like the ground was loosening beneath me. I was getting too attached.
And then, like clockwork, a familiar chill slithered down my spine.
“Still playing house, I see.”
I turned to find Anna standing behind me, dressed in emerald silk and hatred.
“I must say, you clean up better than I expected,” Anna drawled, circling me like a vulture. “But no matter how many gowns Sofia stitches onto your body, you’ll always look like a miscast extra in a world that isn’t yours.”
I braced myself. “What more do you want, Anna?”
She smiled. “Just checking in. Must be exhausting—pretending to be someone else all the time. Faking love. Faking confidence. Faking your way through every conversation.”
“What are you projecting?” I snapped, my voice low.
Her eyes narrowed. “Zade may tolerate you now, but you and I both know it’s temporary. He has a pattern, Olive. And it doesn’t include weak girls with trust issues… and a broken family tree filled with murderers.”
My breath caught in my throat.
Murderers.
Not murderer. Plural.
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. She knew about my dad. But how much more did she know? Why say it like that? What else had she found—or been told?
I stood firm, fists clenched at my sides. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing me unravel.
She leaned in, her voice in a cruel whisper. “Enjoy your spotlight, sweetheart. It burns brightest right before it goes out.”
She turned and walked away, silk trailing behind her like a smirk you could touch, and I stood there, numb. The chandelier above blurred as my vision clouded with too many thoughts.
Too many blank spaces. Too many lies. Too many truths. And no way to tell which was which.
The next morning, I woke up with a heart that felt like it had soaked overnight in lead.
I thought I’d be done with the emotional heaviness by now, that maybe one night’s sleep would clear the shadows in my chest. But no. It wasn’t over.
It seemed like it was just beginning.
I slipped into a sweater, tied my hair up, and made my way downstairs, hoping that a cold glass of apple juice would help me feel human again.
But I froze halfway down the staircase.
Zade’s voice.
He was in the sitting area, speaking low but not low enough. Another voice responded—Leo.
I leaned forward slightly, heartbeat hitching.
“So what did you do next?” Leo asked, his tone amused. “Did you kiss her?”
I stilled.
The rational thing would’ve been to walk away, make a loud noise, let them know I was nearby. But my body didn’t move. My curiosity—my inner chaos—wanted to know everything.
No, needed to know.
So I took a careful step back up and crouched just above the archway, out of sight but close enough to hear.
Zade exhaled. “No, I didn’t. I wanted to. Damn, I almost did. But—” he trailed off.
“But?” Leo prompted, sounding almost giddy.
“But it wasn’t the right time. She was already overwhelmed. I didn’t want her thinking I was taking advantage.”
A pause.
“That’s a new side of you,” Leo said. “Old Zade would’ve taken the kiss.”
Zade gave a dry laugh. “Old Zade didn’t care who got hurt. This one… might be losing his mind over a girl who doesn’t even know how deep she’s in.”
My stomach clenched.
Was he talking about me?
Leo whistled low. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”
There was silence again. Long and weighted.
Then Zade replied quietly, “Yeah. I do. Probably.”
I clutched the railing, trying to steady myself. Every emotion inside me collapsed into one confused mess. I should have walked away… but now that I’d heard it, I couldn’t unhear it.
Was this real? Or just another mask in this game I still didn’t understand?
Leo chuckled, but his voice dropped an octave, curious now. “So… be honest with me. Are you catching feelings?”
Zade didn’t answer immediately.
I leaned in closer, careful not to shift the wood beneath my feet too suddenly. Every part of me was tense. Every heartbeat echoed in my ears.
Then came his answer.
“I’m not catching anything, Leo,” Zade said coolly. “I’m just… bored. It’s been a while since I had someone new around. She’s there, she’s pretty. It’s not that deep.”
Leo whistled again, softer this time. “Damn. I don’t know, man. She’s not a bad option if you ask me. She’s beautiful, curvy, got a spark. Seems like she’d be a good real wife—if you ever gave a damn about those things.”
Zade laughed, dry and unbothered. “It’s not real, Leo. It’s lust. Curiosity. Maybe a desire to touch something I shouldn’t want. That’s all.”
A sharp pain stabbed through my chest.
The words played on repeat:
Not that deep.
Lust.
Just bored.
I backed away, slowly, carefully—until the edge of my heel clipped the bottom step with a soft but unmistakable thud.
“Who’s there?” Zade called, voice sharp and alert.
I stepped forward into the open, trying not to let my panic show. “It’s just me,” I said casually, avoiding both their eyes. “Didn’t know you had company.”
Zade stared at me, searching for something on my face. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to know I still want my apple juice,” I replied with a flat smile, stepping into the kitchen like I hadn’t just heard my entire self-worth shatter into fine dust.
Leo stood awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. Zade looked like he wanted to say more.
But I didn’t give him the chance.
I opened the fridge, grabbed the cold bottle of juice, poured it into a glass with ice, and walked back out without another word.
Upstairs, the hallway felt colder than usual. I shut the door to my room, leaned back against it, and let the ache rise in my chest.
I should’ve known better.
I should’ve stayed out of earshot.
I should’ve protected my heart.
But how do you protect something that was never safe in the first place?
Then, my phone chimed, a text message. From Anna.
“Amanda?” My voice was firm, low. “What are you doing?”
She jolted like she’d been electrocuted. She spun around, her eyes wide, guilt flickering just long enough to catch.
“Oh, hi!” she said too brightly. “I was just… I mean, Zade invited us, so I thought I’d surprise you.”
“By digging through my bed?”
Amanda blinked. Her smile faltered, then twisted into something sharper. “Wow. So now that you’re married to a billionaire, you interrogate me like I’m a peasant?”
My lips parted, startled. “That’s not—”
“I was trying to be sweet. Spontaneous. But clearly, you’re too rich and paranoid now to appreciate friendship,” she said, brushing invisible dust off her dress. “You’ve really changed, Olive.”
Her tone was wounded, almost believable. And it messed with my mind.
I should’ve called her out, demanded to know what she was really doing. But a small part of me—the part that missed our old friendship, that still remembered childhood sleepovers and whispered secrets—was hesitating. Amanda had an ounce of sincerity… or maybe she was just a phenomenal actress.
I stood there, mind spinning, watching Amanda walk past me like nothing had happened.
I didn’t know whether to apologize or scream. Did I sound too harsh?
Instead, I bent down, grabbed the pair of flat Hermès sandals from the closet, and walked back to the party with my heart pounding in my ears.
The moment I handed the shoes to Aliyah, I looked around. No sign of Zade. His absence made me feel like the ground was loosening beneath me. I was getting too attached.
And then, like clockwork, a familiar chill slithered down my spine.
“Still playing house, I see.”
I turned to find Anna standing behind me, dressed in emerald silk and hatred.
“I must say, you clean up better than I expected,” Anna drawled, circling me like a vulture. “But no matter how many gowns Sofia stitches onto your body, you’ll always look like a miscast extra in a world that isn’t yours.”
I braced myself. “What more do you want, Anna?”
She smiled. “Just checking in. Must be exhausting—pretending to be someone else all the time. Faking love. Faking confidence. Faking your way through every conversation.”
“What are you projecting?” I snapped, my voice low.
Her eyes narrowed. “Zade may tolerate you now, but you and I both know it’s temporary. He has a pattern, Olive. And it doesn’t include weak girls with trust issues… and a broken family tree filled with murderers.”
My breath caught in my throat.
Murderers.
Not murderer. Plural.
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. She knew about my dad. But how much more did she know? Why say it like that? What else had she found—or been told?
I stood firm, fists clenched at my sides. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing me unravel.
She leaned in, her voice in a cruel whisper. “Enjoy your spotlight, sweetheart. It burns brightest right before it goes out.”
She turned and walked away, silk trailing behind her like a smirk you could touch, and I stood there, numb. The chandelier above blurred as my vision clouded with too many thoughts.
Too many blank spaces. Too many lies. Too many truths. And no way to tell which was which.
The next morning, I woke up with a heart that felt like it had soaked overnight in lead.
I thought I’d be done with the emotional heaviness by now, that maybe one night’s sleep would clear the shadows in my chest. But no. It wasn’t over.
It seemed like it was just beginning.
I slipped into a sweater, tied my hair up, and made my way downstairs, hoping that a cold glass of apple juice would help me feel human again.
But I froze halfway down the staircase.
Zade’s voice.
He was in the sitting area, speaking low but not low enough. Another voice responded—Leo.
I leaned forward slightly, heartbeat hitching.
“So what did you do next?” Leo asked, his tone amused. “Did you kiss her?”
I stilled.
The rational thing would’ve been to walk away, make a loud noise, let them know I was nearby. But my body didn’t move. My curiosity—my inner chaos—wanted to know everything.
No, needed to know.
So I took a careful step back up and crouched just above the archway, out of sight but close enough to hear.
Zade exhaled. “No, I didn’t. I wanted to. Damn, I almost did. But—” he trailed off.
“But?” Leo prompted, sounding almost giddy.
“But it wasn’t the right time. She was already overwhelmed. I didn’t want her thinking I was taking advantage.”
A pause.
“That’s a new side of you,” Leo said. “Old Zade would’ve taken the kiss.”
Zade gave a dry laugh. “Old Zade didn’t care who got hurt. This one… might be losing his mind over a girl who doesn’t even know how deep she’s in.”
My stomach clenched.
Was he talking about me?
Leo whistled low. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”
There was silence again. Long and weighted.
Then Zade replied quietly, “Yeah. I do. Probably.”
I clutched the railing, trying to steady myself. Every emotion inside me collapsed into one confused mess. I should have walked away… but now that I’d heard it, I couldn’t unhear it.
Was this real? Or just another mask in this game I still didn’t understand?
Leo chuckled, but his voice dropped an octave, curious now. “So… be honest with me. Are you catching feelings?”
Zade didn’t answer immediately.
I leaned in closer, careful not to shift the wood beneath my feet too suddenly. Every part of me was tense. Every heartbeat echoed in my ears.
Then came his answer.
“I’m not catching anything, Leo,” Zade said coolly. “I’m just… bored. It’s been a while since I had someone new around. She’s there, she’s pretty. It’s not that deep.”
Leo whistled again, softer this time. “Damn. I don’t know, man. She’s not a bad option if you ask me. She’s beautiful, curvy, got a spark. Seems like she’d be a good real wife—if you ever gave a damn about those things.”
Zade laughed, dry and unbothered. “It’s not real, Leo. It’s lust. Curiosity. Maybe a desire to touch something I shouldn’t want. That’s all.”
A sharp pain stabbed through my chest.
The words played on repeat:
Not that deep.
Lust.
Just bored.
I backed away, slowly, carefully—until the edge of my heel clipped the bottom step with a soft but unmistakable thud.
“Who’s there?” Zade called, voice sharp and alert.
I stepped forward into the open, trying not to let my panic show. “It’s just me,” I said casually, avoiding both their eyes. “Didn’t know you had company.”
Zade stared at me, searching for something on my face. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to know I still want my apple juice,” I replied with a flat smile, stepping into the kitchen like I hadn’t just heard my entire self-worth shatter into fine dust.
Leo stood awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. Zade looked like he wanted to say more.
But I didn’t give him the chance.
I opened the fridge, grabbed the cold bottle of juice, poured it into a glass with ice, and walked back out without another word.
Upstairs, the hallway felt colder than usual. I shut the door to my room, leaned back against it, and let the ache rise in my chest.
I should’ve known better.
I should’ve stayed out of earshot.
I should’ve protected my heart.
But how do you protect something that was never safe in the first place?
Then, my phone chimed, a text message. From Anna.
End of His for a year. Chapter 29. Continue reading Chapter 30 or return to His for a year. book page.