His for a year. - Chapter 31: Chapter 31

Sleep had never felt so unreachable.
I lay in bed, eyes wide open as the ceiling stared back at me with silent judgment. My hands clutched the duvet to my chest, as if it could shield me from the storm outside—and the one that had just begun inside the Avner fortress.
My heart ached, my throat felt permanently sore from holding back tears, and my body was heavy with fear, shame, and anticipation. I couldn’t stop replaying the scene in my head—the accusations, the slap, the look on Zade’s face.
He hadn’t even defended me. He's probably tired of me.
And Anna… Anna had won again. She’d dug up my past like a grave robber. The secret I had buried so deep, protected like a child, was now stretched open and bleeding for everyone to see. What did she offer Amanda to make her spill my secret like this? So effortlessly, without remorse.
And worst of all, Zade—Zade had looked at me like I was nothing but a stranger in the dark.
My body trembled as I curled further into myself, trying to disappear into the mattress. My thoughts ran wild. What would Zade do with this? Would he walk away and pretend none of it ever happened? Would he annul the contract? Tell the world? Would Anna leak the story out of spite? Would Eloise?
I closed my eyes, trying to shut the voices in my head. But they wouldn’t quiet. Not even for a second.
The first light of morning slipped through the curtains when the chaos started.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR, YOU FILTHY WHORE!” Zara’s voice pierced through the hall, loud enough to shake the walls.
I sat up in panic. My heart kicked against my ribs.
“I said open the door! You murderer! Slut! I should burn your things right now!”
There was a thud, like someone being held back.
“Miss Zara, please that’s enough.” Ray’s voice, firm and commanding. “This is not how to handle it—”
“She killed someone! And she’s sleeping under the same roof as us like she’s not garbage!”
I clutched the covers closer to my chest, my breath shallow. The door didn’t open, but the sounds felt like they were inside my head.
“What if she kills someone in this family? What if she kills me!?” She yelled. I could imagine her eyes burning with anger.
“Please Zara, can you come back when you're better?” Ray said quietly.
I could hear Zara’s shoes clacking angrily as Ray tried to guide her away.
“She’s gonna leave this house. I swear to God, Ray, if no one doesn't make her leave, I will.”
The hallway fell into muffled silence eventually. But the damage was done. I hadn’t moved an inch, my legs folded beneath me like a shell. My throat burned more. My eyes stung.
I didn’t deserve this. But maybe I did. Didn’t I?
I stayed locked in my room the entire morning, listening. Every voice, every footstep outside the door felt like a warning. Zade still hadn’t come. Still hadn’t said anything. Not a text. Not a knock. Not even a breath near my door.
Around two in the afternoon, there was another knock. Lighter, but firmer. Ray? Zara again?
No.
The door flung open before I could respond.
Eloise.
Her eyes, sharp and cold like daggers carved in frost, bore down at me. Ray trailed behind her, trying to stop her from entering. “Mrs. Avner, please—this won’t help anything—”
“You don’t get to tell me what helps or not.” Her voice was tight. Controlled rage. She turned to me with disgust. “You. I told Zade you were no good. But no—he had to be the savior. Now see what you’ve done.”
I stood slowly, hands trembling at my sides. “Mrs. Eloise, I—I didn’t mean—”
“Save it.” Eloise stepped forward until we were only inches apart. “I don’t care what sob story you cooked up. You had no place here to begin with. I don’t care if my son’s lust blinded him. But I will not allow your presence to further stain the Avner name.”
Ray reached for Eloise’s shoulder. “Ma’am—”
She shrugged him off. “You have until next Saturday. I don’t care where you go. You won’t be living under this roof again after that.”
I swallowed hard. “Can we talk to Zade about this first?”
Eloise raised a brow and smirked cruelly. “Zade is too busy sulking to make any real decision. So I’ll do it for him. He’ll thank me for it later,” she paused, “you've done enough damage to my son. It's enough already.”
She turned to go, but not before adding with a smile, “If you’re smart, you’ll disappear quietly. Otherwise, I have more than enough friends in the press who would enjoy a story about the billionaire’s wife who stripped and killed.”
Ray’s face was stone, jaw tight.
Eloise didn’t wait for my response. She left just as abruptly, her perfume lingering behind her, registering its scent in my brain.
My knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor. The weight of everything—the judgment, the fear, the grief—came crashing down again like waves on jagged rock.
I stayed like that for what felt like hours before moving to the bed.
No food. No water. Just silence and panic.
Zade didn’t come.
He hadn’t knocked once.
“Olive?” Ray’s voice was quiet, but firm. “Can I come in?”
I didn’t respond.
The door creaked open anyway.
He stepped in, hesitant, a tray in his hand. Tea and toast. He dropped his eyes as he placed it on the bedside table, like he was afraid to meet my gaze.
“I figured you haven't eaten anything.”
I didn’t respond. My throat still burned.
He sat beside me on the edge of the bed. He didn’t touch me. He just sat.
After a long pause, he said, “You remember that note the intruder left on a boot on your wedding night?”
My head lifted slowly.
Ray continued. “It said something about the mask slipping. That someone knew. That you’d regret everything.”
Goosebumps swept across my arms.
“I thought it only said, ‘hello, dancer’?” I asked.
“I found this part written at the back later that night but I kind of forgot to mention,” he admitted, digging into his coat pocket and handing me a folded piece of paper. “I was waiting for the right time to give it to you.”
I unfolded it with trembling fingers. The ink had faded slightly but the words remained: “You can lie to the world, but masks always slip. Enjoy your glass castle, Cinderella. Midnight is coming.”
He stared at me. “This... this wasn’t a random threat, Olive. It was the beginning.”
My lips parted, my voice dry. “You think Amanda—”
“I think,” Ray interrupted gently, “that someone wanted you to crash from the very first moment. Amanda might’ve been the leak this time, but this… feels older. Deeper.”
The words hit harder than I expected. Like a sudden gust of wind knocking the breath out of my lungs.
“But it’s over now,” I whispered. “The whole family hates me. Everyone thinks I'm a murderer. But I didn't kill him, it was self defence. It was an accident.”
I paused, trying to hold back my tears.
“Zade hasn’t said a single word to me. Not one. Do you know what it’s like to live in a house with someone who won’t even look at you after all you’ve sacrificed?”
Ray’s jaw tightened, and then his tone shifted, low and sincere. “Olive, everyone has a past. The only difference is yours got exposed. I’ve worked for the Avners for over ten years—trust me, their secrets could fill vaults. They just throw enough money at the staff to keep their mouths shut.”
He looked me dead in the eyes. “You are not your worst mistake.”
I blinked fast. His words felt like light cracking through my fog.
“Someone died in self-defense. You were just a young lady trying to survive. That man would’ve done worse if you hadn’t fought back.”
A sob broke from my throat before I could stop it. The moment immediately replayed in my head.
He touched my shoulder gentl. “Don’t let them shame you for surviving.”
“But the way Zade looked at me…” I said, my voice breaking again. “He didn’t even have to say anything. I saw it in his eyes. Disgust.”
“He’s processing,” he said simply. “That doesn’t mean he won’t come around. But even if he doesn’t… don’t you ever think you’re unworthy of love or peace. You’ve earned more than most.”
We sat in silence for a moment.
Then he straightened. “We’re going to fight back. Whoever’s behind this—Amanda, Anna, or some ghost from your past—they made a mistake underestimating you. You’re still here. Still breathing. That means the game’s not over.”
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, feeling strength return to my bones like warm blood flowing again.
“I don’t know where to start,” I admitted.
Ray stood. “We start by looking for what they missed. Clues. Gaps in the story. We can visit people in your past too for information. Whoever planted that note on your wedding night, we'd find them. I’ll talk to a few people. Quietly.”
I nodded, a little dazed, but determined.
“And Olive,” he added before leaving, “don’t believe the lie they’re feeding you—that you’re alone. You’re not. I’ve got your back. We’ll find the truth.”
As the door shut softly behind him, I looked down at the note again. I traced the faded handwriting with my finger.
Midnight might be coming.
But I was no longer afraid of the dark.
I picked up my phone and texted Aliyah.
“Do you still have Lara’s phone number? Our former neighbour?”
I waited patiently for her reply, it finally came.
“Yes, why?” She asked.
“Nothing. Just feeling nostalgic. Please send it to me.”
The next notification that popped was the phone number. I dialled it immediately.
Twice.
I was about to hang up when, on the third ring, a tired, cautious voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi… is this Lara?”
A pause. “Who’s asking?”
“It’s… Olive. From Flat 1B. It’s been a long time.”
Another pause, longer this time. I could hear the sound of Lara’s breath catch on the other end.
“Olive Trevor?” Her voice had sharpened. “You’re kidding.”
“No. It’s me.”
Silence.
Then, “What the hell? Zade Anver’s wife is calling me?”
There was no malice in her voice. Just confusion. Surprise. A trace of suspicion, maybe.
“I know this is random,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “But I needed to talk to someone from that time. From... back then.”
Lara exhaled deeply. “Shit. You sound like a ghost from a different life. What, you finally bored of the rich life and missing the pole?”
A faint, humorless chuckle slipped from my lips. “Not quite. I just… I’ve been thinking about that time. About all of you.”
Lara was quiet for a beat, and then her voice softened. “You’re not calling just to reminisce, are you?”
“No. I wanted to ask… are you still dancing?”
“God, no.” Her tone turned brittle. “Didn’t you hear what happened after you left?”
I sat upright. My heart started to pound. “No. What happened?”
“The building collapsed, Olive. The whole damn club came crashing down one night during a late show. Gas leak and faulty structure or some shit. Everyone was inside. Almost every dancer died on the spot.”
My mouth went dry. “What…?”
“It was chaos. It was all over the news for like a day, and then swept under the rug. No one cared ‘cause it was just a bunch of ‘masked girls’ dancing for creeps in the dark.” Her voice broke at the edges. “I wasn’t there that night. I’d called in sick. That’s the only reason I’m alive.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “Oh my God. I didn’t know.”
“You wouldn’t,” Lara muttered. “You were long gone. After that… everything fell apart.”
“And... and our boss?” I asked. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. Somehow. He wasn’t there either. Turns out he’d started avoiding the club at night. Some bad feeling, he said.” A beat passed. “He still owns a bar in East Harlem. Keeps a low profile.”
I pressed my palm to my forehead. “So everyone’s gone... except you. And him.”
“Yeah.” Her voice turned quiet. “We’re the only ones left. The only ones who remember those nights.”
I hesitated, then asked, “Can we meet? Please.”
Lara was silent.
“Please,” I whispered. “I don’t want anything from you. I just… I need to talk. I need to understand what really happened.”
Another beat of silence. Then Lara sighed. “Alright. I’ll send my location. I’m in the Bronx now. It’s not fancy, you should know. Don’t show up with a bodyguard or heels, alright?”
I felt something in my chest shift—a strange mix of dread and fragile hope.
“I won’t,” I said. “Thank you, Lara.”
The call ended.
A second later, the location pin dropped into my inbox.
I stared at it, heart pounding. Everything about my past—the secrets I had buried deep enough to suffocate—was now clawing back into the light.
And I was willing to dig with my own two hands to uncover the raw truth and protect my name.