His for a year. - Chapter 45: Chapter 45

His brow furrowed.
“I walked into your study today,” I started. “I saw Anna. Saw photos of me… from before we even met.”
He stiffened. He's definitely hiding something from me.
“I want to know the truth,” I said, finally turning to face him. “And don’t tell me it’s complicated.”
“I don’t want to scare you,” he said. “But yes… I knew about you before you met me.”
My body went rigid.
He added quickly, “It’s not what you think. I’ll explain everything. Just not tonight.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ve been through hell since we met,” he said, gentler now. “And I want you strong when I tell you the full unfiltered truth.”
I bit my bottom lip.
Zade leaned forward, resting his forehead lightly against mine. His voice was low. “I’m not hiding from you. I swear. Just… trust me a little longer.”
I didn't want to trust him. I didn't want to be patient with him before I heard the full truth. I deserve to know why unaware pictures of me were casually lying in his study.
But, I still wanted to wait on him. To be patient. To give him a benefit of doubt.
To-to trust him.
But trust is a fragile thing.
And mine had already started cracking.
_ _ _
The room was still, but I kept tossing and turning beneath the heavy sheets. The silence clawed at my skin. My mind refused to rest, replaying images from the day—Anna's glare, the photographs, Zade’s half-truths. Everything’s spinning.
Then… the shadows started to shift.
I jerked upright, gasping, drenched in sweat.
My chest heaved. The room was quiet, but my pulse was chaos.
Zade opened his eyes immediately and sat up, “are you okay?” He asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.
Then—
A spark in my brain.
The watch.
I remembered it clearly now. Gold casing, sapphire-blue straps, thick and expensive-looking. It had slipped from the figure’s sleeve when they ran away.
And it was a man. Broad shoulders. Masculine frame. Not bulky, but lean and athletic. Someone young. Not a stranger.
Someone who knew how to drive like that.
I placed a trembling hand over my chest. “I saw him,” I whispered. “I saw him.”
Zade stirred beside me, his hand instinctively resting on my back. “Saw who, Olive?”
Not the face, but the shape, the presence. The memory was sharpening now, terrifyingly clear.
“The G-Wagon didn’t just show up… it had been following me. Watching me.”
I swung my legs off the bed, standing shakily, the floor cold beneath my feet.
He followed me immediately, stepping in close, his arms wrapped around me from behind, offering support with his warmth and presence.
“Olive,” he whispered, his breath soft against my ear as he held me in a back hug. “It was a nightmare, okay?”
He led me gently back to the bed, not letting go, guiding me like I might break.
As I sat down, he knelt in front of me, speaking in the calmest tone—like he was trying to coax a frightened child back to sleep.
“I’m here. You’re safe. And you’ll tell me what you remembered in the morning, okay?”
I nodded slowly.
“Good.”
He climbed into bed behind me and pulled me close, my back against his chest. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his shirt—strong, soothing.
“I’ll hold you like this till you wake up,” he said. “Don’t be afraid.”
He pressed his lips to the top of my head. A soft kiss. Gentle. Familiar.
For a moment, my heart fluttered.
It calmed my trembling body a little, but then, my heart drifted back to the dream. No... the memory.
That watch.
Gold with blue straps. A rare kind of expensive.
What if it meant something?
No, it did. Not just anyone wore that. Not without power. Or connections.
What if Anna knew whose watch it was?
Or worse… what if it belonged to someone in the family?
My eyes snapped open, staring into the dim shadows of the room.
Ray’s words echoed back to me—his history with Anna, how she manipulated, twisted, ruined.
Could she be tied to the driver?
Could Ray know more than he let on?
Or was he hiding something too?
Just like Zade?
I pressed my palms to my face, breath hitching.
This wasn’t just an accident.
It was deliberate.
A warning.
A message.
When I woke up, the first thing I felt was warmth—gentle, secure, and strangely comforting. Zade’s arms were still around me, just like he promised. His chest rose and fell steadily against my back, and for a brief second, I let myself sink into it.
He’d stayed like this all night… just to keep me calm.
When he noticed I was awake, he shifted, gently turning me to face him. His eyes searched mine, soft with concern.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, voice low and rough from sleep.
“Better,” I whispered. “Thanks to you.”
He nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair from my cheek. “The dream?” he asked.
I nodded. “It wasn’t just a dream. I remembered something. The driver… he was wearing a gold watch with blue straps. It was very big. A rare kind of big. I didn’t see the face, but I remember the back… tall, broad. He followed me, Zade. That car didn’t appear out of nowhere.”
His expression sharpened with focus. “That’s a great clue. There are only a few people who own that limited edition wristwatch.” He sat up slightly, his mind already working, calculating possibilities. “I’ll check our databases and contacts—we can narrow this down.”
Before I could respond, his phone vibrated on the nightstand.
He grabbed it and answered.
He listened for a while then spoke. “Yeah. I’ll be there shortly.”
He hung up and got out of bed, disappearing into the bathroom. I sat up slowly, still feeling the echo of his embrace, the shadow of my memory pressing against my chest.
He got into his closet quicker than I had ever seen him.
When he returned, dressed sharply in all black, his face was unreadable.
“The fingerprint analysis is out,” he said, grabbing his watch and phone. “They’re insisting I see it in person.”
He moved toward the door, but I stopped him with a soft, “Zade?”
He turned back.
“I need a favor.”
He raised an eyebrow, waiting.
“Whoever it is… bring him to me. Or take me to him.” My voice didn’t waver. “I want to see his face. I want to ask why.”
His face darkened with concern. “Olive, that might not be a good idea. It could trigger more trauma than you’re ready for.”
“I don’t care,” I said quietly. “I need to know. I need to hear it. I need to see him. Please. ”
Zade exhaled deeply, tension pulling at his jawline. He gave a tight nod. “I’ll think about it on the way.”
And then he was gone.
The door clicked shut and I was left with the sound of my own heart pounding. I stared at the space where he had stood, trying to imagine what face might be waiting at the end of this mystery.
Someone I knew? Someone I trusted?
My palms were clammy.
Who would do this?
Why?
And when I finally looked into that person’s eyes–would I be strong enough to handle the truth?
I paced in the room like a storm trapped in a box, arms folded tight around my chest as if that could keep my heart from pounding out. The silence in the air was deafening. Not a call, not a message. Nothing.
I hadn’t eaten, hadn’t even looked at the food a maid quietly brought up earlier. How could I?
The clock mocked me.
11:03 a.m. already.
My fingers trembled as I picked up my phone. Just as I unlocked the screen to call Zade, it rang.
Zade.
I answered on the first ring. “Zade—”
His voice was low. Unsettled. “We’re on our way back.”
I straightened. “What happened? Who is it?”
There was a pause. Too long.
“You were right,” he finally said. “About the watch. It was a solid lead.”
“Zade,” I pressed, my breath increasing, “who is it?”
Another pause.
“I’ll let you see for yourself,” he said quietly. “We’re almost there.”
Then the line cut.
My pulse thundered as I threw on a hoodie and ran downstairs barefoot. The house blurred around me—the staircase, the echo of her heartbeat against the marble floors, the concerned glance from a maid.
I burst out into the driveway just as the gates creaked open.
Three police vehicles rolled in slowly, Zade’s car secured between them like a treasure being protected… or a secret being escorted.
I suddenly froze.
A part of me wanted to run away. To disappear. To undo the request I had made to Zade just an hour ago.
What if I couldn’t face it? Or live with it?
What if whoever stepped out of that car changed everything?
Zade stepped out first and spotted me. He moved toward me immediately, a mix of tension and tenderness etched in every step.
“If you want to walk away now,” he said, stopping in front of me, “we’ll turn around. No one will think less of you.”
But I shook my head, swallowing the fear clawing at my throat. “No. I need to know. I need to see him.”
Ray, standing by one of the police cars, nodded once and opened the door slowly.
The hinges groaned.
And then, he stepped out.
My eyes widened.