His for a year. - Chapter 51: Chapter 51
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He didn’t let go of my hand, not even when we stepped out of the dining room into the long, dim corridor.
Leo followed behind us in silence, stopping at the foot of the grand staircase. He gave Zade a look—something between respect and warning—before turning around and disappearing into his room.
Zade gently led me up the stairs to the private floor, our joined hands swinging softly between them. My heart was still pounding, my knees felt weak—not from the climb, but from everything that had just happened. The stares. The shock. The threat I now represented to the people in this house. Anna’s eyes were tattooed in my brain.
When we reached the door to his room, he pushed it open and held it for me. I hesitated—just for a breath—then stepped inside.
It was warm. Dimly lit. Quiet. The only sound was the soft hum of the central heating and the rustle of curtains as the night wind whispered against the windows.
He walked me to the bed and helped me sit. He was still holding my hand.
I tried to pull it away, unsure if it was right to keep holding on—but he didn’t let go. Not forcefully. Just firm. Gentle. Like he wasn’t ready to release me just yet.
My voice came out small, trembling. “You didn’t have to do that back there…”
He knelt in front of me, bringing our joined hands to his chest. “Yes, I did.”
I blinked, my eyes dropping to his shirt. “Zade… this—what you did… It’ll only make things worse for me here. You heard them. They already hate me. Now they’ll make me the enemy.”
He sighed and rubbed his thumb slowly over my knuckles. “No one will lay a finger on you. Not anymore.”
His voice was steady and sincere. Stronger than I’d ever heard it.
“I’m not playing pretend anymore, Olive,” he said. “I’m serious now. And I need you to understand that.”
I looked into his eyes, searching for doubt, hesitation… anything. But there was nothing. Just quiet commitment.
“I need you to get comfortable around me,” he continued. “You don’t have to keep hiding things. Or handling everything alone. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
“But Anna—”
“Anna’s done,” he cut in gently but firmly. “I meant what I said. I heard everything. She crossed a line. There’s no coming back from that.”
I stared at him, my heart throbbing with uncertainty. My fingers twitched in his grip. “What if she doesn’t stop? What if she tries something worse next?”
Zade exhaled. “Then she’ll face me again. And I won’t be half as patient.”
He stood slowly and sat beside me on the bed, still holding my hand in both of his now, resting it in his lap.
“Olive,” he said softly, “I need you to stop running. Not just from this house, or Anna, or whatever happens—but from me.”
My lips parted, but I didn’t know what to say.
He watched me closely. “I know you're still thinking about leaving. I can see it in your eyes.”
I swallowed hard. “Can you blame me?”
“No,” he said after a beat. “I can’t.”
That honesty broke something in me.
I looked away, blinking back tears. My voice was barely a whisper. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I was just… trying to save my mom. That’s all I wanted. And now I’m caught in all this power, all this hatred—and I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
He gently turned my face back to his. “You’re someone worth protecting. Worth standing up for. Even if you don’t see it yet.”
His words hit deep. It hit something I’d buried for so long I forgot it existed.
I looked at his dark eyes, now soft with concern. The way he held me like I mattered. Like I wasn’t just an obligation. Saying everything I didn’t expect.
But yet… the doubt still lingered in my bones. The fear. The instinct to run.
I didn’t say anything else.
He squeezed my hand one last time, then stood.
“I’ll give you space,” he said gently. “But I’m here. Whether you want to sit in silence or scream at me or ask questions—I’ll take it all. Just… stay.”
He gave a small, aching smile before heading to the couch on the far side of the room, grabbing a blanket. He didn’t say “goodnight.” He didn’t need to.
I sat on the bed, staring at my hand in my lap—still feeling the weight of his fingers on mine.
He was serious.
And that terrified me more than anything else.
Sleep wouldn’t come.
The darkness in the room did nothing to ease my mind. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw Anna’s face again. The look in her eyes—unhinged, possessive, dangerous. ‘I’ve been too easy on you’, she had said. ‘I’m going to go harder.’
That threat replayed in my head over and over like a broken record. And worse, she meant it. I know that now.
I turned on the bed again, away from the wall, my eyes settling on the faint silhouette of Zade curled up on the couch across the room. He’d insisted on sleeping there—even though we had literally shared a bed before.
I squinted into the shadows.
What’s he trying to prove now? That he’s noble? Respectful? When just hours ago he was whispering over my forehead like I was made of glass?
It was annoying. And sweet. And too much for my heart to process.
I pushed the sheets aside and swung my legs down. I didn’t even bother with slippers. The floor was cold under my feet, but my mind was hot with swirling thoughts and anxiety.
I padded across the room quietly and stopped by the edge of the couch.
He looked peaceful, too peaceful. Why did he get to sleep like a child when my mind was on fire?
I reached out and tapped him lightly on the arm. “Zade…”
His eyes fluttered open, adjusting quickly to the darkness. “Hmm?” His voice was raspy and low, sleep still clinging to it. “You okay?”
“I can’t sleep,” I whispered. “And you’ll get body aches on that couch.”
He blinked a few more times, sitting up slowly. A small grin crept across his lips. “What… you can’t sleep without me now or what?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, but my lips twitched in spite of myself. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t want you waking up tomorrow and acting grumpy because your back hurts.”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, when you put it like that…”
I stepped aside, and he stood, towering quietly over me, the shadows kissing his features. The couch had crumpled his shirt, and his hair was a little messy. But still—he looked good. Too good.
He didn’t say anything as he walked back to the bed.
He climbed in first, sliding under the covers slowly like he didn’t want to scare the moment away. I followed, keeping a respectful distance. Just… quiet company. Shared space.
The minute I lay back and felt the gentle shift of the mattress from his weight, something inside me got relieved.
Like a piece of me, once clenched tight, finally unraveled. It wasn’t a cuddle, but it felt just like one.
My body stilled. The dread quieted.
In the dark, I could sense him watching me just for a second.
Then she heard his voice, low and warm.
“I meant what I said earlier, you know.”
I didn’t reply. Not with words. But my silence wasn’t rejection—it was peace.
Minutes passed, then finally… my eyes closed.
This time, sleep didn’t fight me. Not with Zade breathing beside me like a steady promise.
I woke up to faint movements—footsteps, voices, the shuffle of something heavy being dragged outside. My brows furrowed. For a second, I thought I was dreaming again. Until the door creaked open gently.
Zade stepped in, fully dressed in a crisp grey shirt, sleeves rolled up, two buttons undone, his jaw still slightly damp from the shower.
“Oh,” he said softly, when their eyes met. “You’re awake. I didn’t want to wake you.”
I blinked, brushing strands of sleep-stuck hair from my forehead. “What’s going on?”
He glanced toward the window, then back at me. “We’re doubling up on security,” he said, as if it were normal. Like replacing one guard with three didn’t sound like a war was at the corner.
My thoughts raced before I could stop them. Since I got here, they've doubled security before. And now… again?
Was I a magnet for chaos? Or worse, was I the chaos?
I lowered my gaze to my lap, biting my lip.
He caught the shift in my expression. “Hey,” he said, walking over to the side of the bed and crouching slightly so I’d look at him. “You’re safe. No one’s getting to you here. Not anymore.”
I managed a nod.
His lips twitched into a small smile. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, then head out. I’ve got a bit of work to deal with.”
I nodded again, this time watching as he disappeared into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, the door cracked open with a breath of steam trailing behind him. I turned slightly to look, and immediately wished I hadn’t. Actually, I was glad I did.
There he was—shirtless, towel over one shoulder, his hair was wet and pushed back, a single drop of water sliding down his chest like it knew it had no business being that dramatic. He looked so… effortless, like someone straight out of a cinematic fever dream.
He didn’t seem aware of my stare, or maybe he was pretending not to notice.
He moved to the closet, pulled on a white undershirt, slow and deliberate, the fabric clinging to his skin before he layered it with a navy blue button-down, unbuttoned for now. Picked black pants, slid them on with practiced ease. A watch. A spritz of something expensive.
All the while, I just sat there.
Wondering how on earth someone like him ended up being this tangled in my life. How someone so cold at first, so impossible, could also be this… tender.
He looked over his shoulder, catching my eyes this time. “You good?”
I looked away quickly. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
He smiled again, walking toward me. “Don’t overthink, okay?”
I nodded, my heart fluttered.
Then he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my forehead, lingering just long enough to make my heart stumble. “I’ll see you later,” he said gently, then turned and walked out, leaving the scent of cologne and safety behind.
The door clicked softly.
I exhaled.
Only for my phone to buzz against the nightstand.
It was a text.
Aliyah: Hey Olive… just checking. Are you okay?
I stared at the screen, my mind not sure what to feel.
Was I okay?
For now… maybe yes. Maybe not.
But at least I have a sister asking. A man who kissed my forehead like it meant something. And a life that despite the wreckage, keeps moving.
I stared at the message from Aliyah a little longer, my fingers hesitating over the keyboard before finally typing:
“I’m fine, Aliyah. Just tired. A lot is going on but I’m handling it.”
I paused.
There was so much I wasn’t saying.
Like how our own brother had tried to kill me.
Or how my best friend — someone I had trusted with every piece of my soul — had not only stayed silent but helped orchestrate it.
I rubbed my face tiredly and added another message:
“If Amanda reaches out to you, don’t talk to her. Let me know immediately, okay?”
Then I hit send.
The weight in my chest didn’t lift, but at least now Aliyah would be a little more guarded. A little more careful.
Still barefoot, I pulled on a light robe and brushed out my hair. No makeup today. No energy for the performance. I just wanted food and silence. And possibly ten years of uninterrupted sleep.
I stepped out quietly, padding down the hallway toward the dinning, only to stop short when I saw Ray leaning against the archway. He looked… freshly showered, hair damp, sleeves rolled up, coffee in hand.
Leo followed behind us in silence, stopping at the foot of the grand staircase. He gave Zade a look—something between respect and warning—before turning around and disappearing into his room.
Zade gently led me up the stairs to the private floor, our joined hands swinging softly between them. My heart was still pounding, my knees felt weak—not from the climb, but from everything that had just happened. The stares. The shock. The threat I now represented to the people in this house. Anna’s eyes were tattooed in my brain.
When we reached the door to his room, he pushed it open and held it for me. I hesitated—just for a breath—then stepped inside.
It was warm. Dimly lit. Quiet. The only sound was the soft hum of the central heating and the rustle of curtains as the night wind whispered against the windows.
He walked me to the bed and helped me sit. He was still holding my hand.
I tried to pull it away, unsure if it was right to keep holding on—but he didn’t let go. Not forcefully. Just firm. Gentle. Like he wasn’t ready to release me just yet.
My voice came out small, trembling. “You didn’t have to do that back there…”
He knelt in front of me, bringing our joined hands to his chest. “Yes, I did.”
I blinked, my eyes dropping to his shirt. “Zade… this—what you did… It’ll only make things worse for me here. You heard them. They already hate me. Now they’ll make me the enemy.”
He sighed and rubbed his thumb slowly over my knuckles. “No one will lay a finger on you. Not anymore.”
His voice was steady and sincere. Stronger than I’d ever heard it.
“I’m not playing pretend anymore, Olive,” he said. “I’m serious now. And I need you to understand that.”
I looked into his eyes, searching for doubt, hesitation… anything. But there was nothing. Just quiet commitment.
“I need you to get comfortable around me,” he continued. “You don’t have to keep hiding things. Or handling everything alone. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
“But Anna—”
“Anna’s done,” he cut in gently but firmly. “I meant what I said. I heard everything. She crossed a line. There’s no coming back from that.”
I stared at him, my heart throbbing with uncertainty. My fingers twitched in his grip. “What if she doesn’t stop? What if she tries something worse next?”
Zade exhaled. “Then she’ll face me again. And I won’t be half as patient.”
He stood slowly and sat beside me on the bed, still holding my hand in both of his now, resting it in his lap.
“Olive,” he said softly, “I need you to stop running. Not just from this house, or Anna, or whatever happens—but from me.”
My lips parted, but I didn’t know what to say.
He watched me closely. “I know you're still thinking about leaving. I can see it in your eyes.”
I swallowed hard. “Can you blame me?”
“No,” he said after a beat. “I can’t.”
That honesty broke something in me.
I looked away, blinking back tears. My voice was barely a whisper. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I was just… trying to save my mom. That’s all I wanted. And now I’m caught in all this power, all this hatred—and I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
He gently turned my face back to his. “You’re someone worth protecting. Worth standing up for. Even if you don’t see it yet.”
His words hit deep. It hit something I’d buried for so long I forgot it existed.
I looked at his dark eyes, now soft with concern. The way he held me like I mattered. Like I wasn’t just an obligation. Saying everything I didn’t expect.
But yet… the doubt still lingered in my bones. The fear. The instinct to run.
I didn’t say anything else.
He squeezed my hand one last time, then stood.
“I’ll give you space,” he said gently. “But I’m here. Whether you want to sit in silence or scream at me or ask questions—I’ll take it all. Just… stay.”
He gave a small, aching smile before heading to the couch on the far side of the room, grabbing a blanket. He didn’t say “goodnight.” He didn’t need to.
I sat on the bed, staring at my hand in my lap—still feeling the weight of his fingers on mine.
He was serious.
And that terrified me more than anything else.
Sleep wouldn’t come.
The darkness in the room did nothing to ease my mind. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw Anna’s face again. The look in her eyes—unhinged, possessive, dangerous. ‘I’ve been too easy on you’, she had said. ‘I’m going to go harder.’
That threat replayed in my head over and over like a broken record. And worse, she meant it. I know that now.
I turned on the bed again, away from the wall, my eyes settling on the faint silhouette of Zade curled up on the couch across the room. He’d insisted on sleeping there—even though we had literally shared a bed before.
I squinted into the shadows.
What’s he trying to prove now? That he’s noble? Respectful? When just hours ago he was whispering over my forehead like I was made of glass?
It was annoying. And sweet. And too much for my heart to process.
I pushed the sheets aside and swung my legs down. I didn’t even bother with slippers. The floor was cold under my feet, but my mind was hot with swirling thoughts and anxiety.
I padded across the room quietly and stopped by the edge of the couch.
He looked peaceful, too peaceful. Why did he get to sleep like a child when my mind was on fire?
I reached out and tapped him lightly on the arm. “Zade…”
His eyes fluttered open, adjusting quickly to the darkness. “Hmm?” His voice was raspy and low, sleep still clinging to it. “You okay?”
“I can’t sleep,” I whispered. “And you’ll get body aches on that couch.”
He blinked a few more times, sitting up slowly. A small grin crept across his lips. “What… you can’t sleep without me now or what?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, but my lips twitched in spite of myself. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t want you waking up tomorrow and acting grumpy because your back hurts.”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, when you put it like that…”
I stepped aside, and he stood, towering quietly over me, the shadows kissing his features. The couch had crumpled his shirt, and his hair was a little messy. But still—he looked good. Too good.
He didn’t say anything as he walked back to the bed.
He climbed in first, sliding under the covers slowly like he didn’t want to scare the moment away. I followed, keeping a respectful distance. Just… quiet company. Shared space.
The minute I lay back and felt the gentle shift of the mattress from his weight, something inside me got relieved.
Like a piece of me, once clenched tight, finally unraveled. It wasn’t a cuddle, but it felt just like one.
My body stilled. The dread quieted.
In the dark, I could sense him watching me just for a second.
Then she heard his voice, low and warm.
“I meant what I said earlier, you know.”
I didn’t reply. Not with words. But my silence wasn’t rejection—it was peace.
Minutes passed, then finally… my eyes closed.
This time, sleep didn’t fight me. Not with Zade breathing beside me like a steady promise.
I woke up to faint movements—footsteps, voices, the shuffle of something heavy being dragged outside. My brows furrowed. For a second, I thought I was dreaming again. Until the door creaked open gently.
Zade stepped in, fully dressed in a crisp grey shirt, sleeves rolled up, two buttons undone, his jaw still slightly damp from the shower.
“Oh,” he said softly, when their eyes met. “You’re awake. I didn’t want to wake you.”
I blinked, brushing strands of sleep-stuck hair from my forehead. “What’s going on?”
He glanced toward the window, then back at me. “We’re doubling up on security,” he said, as if it were normal. Like replacing one guard with three didn’t sound like a war was at the corner.
My thoughts raced before I could stop them. Since I got here, they've doubled security before. And now… again?
Was I a magnet for chaos? Or worse, was I the chaos?
I lowered my gaze to my lap, biting my lip.
He caught the shift in my expression. “Hey,” he said, walking over to the side of the bed and crouching slightly so I’d look at him. “You’re safe. No one’s getting to you here. Not anymore.”
I managed a nod.
His lips twitched into a small smile. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, then head out. I’ve got a bit of work to deal with.”
I nodded again, this time watching as he disappeared into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, the door cracked open with a breath of steam trailing behind him. I turned slightly to look, and immediately wished I hadn’t. Actually, I was glad I did.
There he was—shirtless, towel over one shoulder, his hair was wet and pushed back, a single drop of water sliding down his chest like it knew it had no business being that dramatic. He looked so… effortless, like someone straight out of a cinematic fever dream.
He didn’t seem aware of my stare, or maybe he was pretending not to notice.
He moved to the closet, pulled on a white undershirt, slow and deliberate, the fabric clinging to his skin before he layered it with a navy blue button-down, unbuttoned for now. Picked black pants, slid them on with practiced ease. A watch. A spritz of something expensive.
All the while, I just sat there.
Wondering how on earth someone like him ended up being this tangled in my life. How someone so cold at first, so impossible, could also be this… tender.
He looked over his shoulder, catching my eyes this time. “You good?”
I looked away quickly. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
He smiled again, walking toward me. “Don’t overthink, okay?”
I nodded, my heart fluttered.
Then he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my forehead, lingering just long enough to make my heart stumble. “I’ll see you later,” he said gently, then turned and walked out, leaving the scent of cologne and safety behind.
The door clicked softly.
I exhaled.
Only for my phone to buzz against the nightstand.
It was a text.
Aliyah: Hey Olive… just checking. Are you okay?
I stared at the screen, my mind not sure what to feel.
Was I okay?
For now… maybe yes. Maybe not.
But at least I have a sister asking. A man who kissed my forehead like it meant something. And a life that despite the wreckage, keeps moving.
I stared at the message from Aliyah a little longer, my fingers hesitating over the keyboard before finally typing:
“I’m fine, Aliyah. Just tired. A lot is going on but I’m handling it.”
I paused.
There was so much I wasn’t saying.
Like how our own brother had tried to kill me.
Or how my best friend — someone I had trusted with every piece of my soul — had not only stayed silent but helped orchestrate it.
I rubbed my face tiredly and added another message:
“If Amanda reaches out to you, don’t talk to her. Let me know immediately, okay?”
Then I hit send.
The weight in my chest didn’t lift, but at least now Aliyah would be a little more guarded. A little more careful.
Still barefoot, I pulled on a light robe and brushed out my hair. No makeup today. No energy for the performance. I just wanted food and silence. And possibly ten years of uninterrupted sleep.
I stepped out quietly, padding down the hallway toward the dinning, only to stop short when I saw Ray leaning against the archway. He looked… freshly showered, hair damp, sleeves rolled up, coffee in hand.
End of His for a year. Chapter 51. Continue reading Chapter 52 or return to His for a year. book page.