He was leaning casually against the driver's side door, dressed entirely in black. A designer shirt, top two buttons undone, exposing just enough of his chest to draw the eye. His tailored pants molded to him like they were made for his body—and probably were. The only thing that broke the monochrome was a silver watch on his wrist, gleaming under the morning light.
He looked like he'd stepped out of another world. Or worse—dragged it with him.
Her feet stopped moving. The keys in her hand slipped slightly, catching on her fingers and Zade's smile deepened when he noticed her reaction.
She could hear was the sound of her own pulse pounding in her ears.
She took a single step back, her breath catching in her throat, her lips parting—not from fear, but from unexpected surprise. Her fingers clenched around the straps of her bag as her gaze locked on the tall, dark figure leaning against the car parked beside hers. The last person she ever expected to see here. The very man she'd spent months running from, avoiding like a phantom she hoped would disappear if she just stayed hidden long enough. But no… he was real.
"You really like running, don't you?" His words were more of a statement than a question.
She swallowed hard, trying to steady the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She wasn't afraid of him—or at least, that's what she told herself. But something about his presence always managed to unnerve her, even when he wasn't trying.
"And you like chasing what doesn't want to be caught, don't you?" she snapped, her voice sharper than intended, brittle with the edge of old pain and suppressed rage.
His smile didn't waver. Not even slightly. It was the same smug, infuriating smirk she remembered from the day she was forced to say "I do." He pushed off the car slowly, standing tall now—broad shoulders framed in an expensive black designer shirt that clung to his figure just enough to reveal the strength beneath. Two buttons hung open at the top, exposing a sliver of skin and a silver chain that disappeared beneath the fabric. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing tattooed forearms and a Rolex that shimmered under the flickering fluorescent light of the basement.
She backed away again, heart thudding now, not out of terror but instinct. Her body moved before she could tell it not to, her shoes clicking softly against the concrete.
Zade's eyes flicked downward, noting her retreat, and something in his expression shifted. He didn't look amused anymore. He looked... hungry.
"One step closer,and I will scream." She warned.
He stopped mid-step, but there was no panic in his face. No alarm. Only quiet amusement, like a predator who already knew the outcome of the game.
"And you think someone will hear you from this basement?" he asked softly, tilting his head with a sickening sort of sweetness. "You're clever, Halle. But let's not pretend this is something it's not. We both know I'd hear your scream before anyone else ever would. In fact…" His voice dropped, tone darkening as his gaze swept over her, "I think it would be fun to hear you scream. But not like that."
A shiver ran down her spine, and she hated that her body reacted. Hated that he had that effect on her. Her fingers tightened around her bag strap until her knuckles turned white.
"I want you to get in the car," he said after a pause, gesturing to the sleek black vehicle behind him. It looked like something ripped straight out of a billionaire fantasy—glass tinted, metal gleaming, the engine likely humming even while idle. "I can't have my wife living in a place like this."
"Absolutely not. You don't get to walk into my life and start barking orders like a goddamn tyrant."
This time, his smile faltered—only for a second—but she saw it. A tiny fracture. Then it returned, stretched wider, but with something darker underneath.
He took a step forward again, slower this time, measured. "Your grandma wouldn't approve of how rude you're being to me," he said softly, but every word carried weight like stones dropped into still water. "I had such a nice chat with her. Sweet woman. I think she likes me. Said I looked like a good man. Polite. Well-mannered. We had tea. I wonder if I should.._"
"Don't you dare bring my grandmother into your twisted games, Zade."
Her voice cracked like a whip across the tension between them, sharp and loud enough to echo faintly in the empty basement. Her face burned, chest heaving as fury took hold—pure, hot, and justified. She stepped forward now, confronting him fully, no longer retreating. "I swear to God, if you even think about using her against me, or hurting her I'll .._"
"What?" he interrupted smoothly, eyes glinting. "You'll scream?" He continued to say,
"She mentioned her blood pressure's been acting up. Old age, you know? Makes the heart a little... fragile.
I wonder how she would react on finding out that you're not just my love interest, but we are actually married and that no one informed her about it." He mused aloud.
Her grandmother's health had been worryingly unstable lately—her heart too fragile to withstand any form of emotional shock, whether joy or distress. It was precisely why Halle had kept the news of her marriage a secret; she couldn't risk causing another episode, especially not when the very mention of Zade would only bring questions she wasn't ready to answer. Besides, there was nothing to celebrate. This marriage wasn't something she wanted, let alone something she could share with the one person who truly mattered to her.
"Are you that heartless? That you would threaten me by using my grandma, knowing she's sick?" Halle's voice cracked, her words laced with fury and disbelief as she glared at him. Her hands trembled slightly at her sides, and for a moment, she hated how calm he looked—how unaffected he seemed by the very real, very human fear clawing at her.
Zade didn't respond right away. The charming, smug smile he often wore had vanished, replaced by an unreadable mask. His silence made her angrier. It felt like a dismissal, like her emotions meant nothing. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.
"If you walk away right now, Halle, I'll still get what I want eventually. But you'll lose your say in how it happens." He slipped his hands casually into the pockets of his slacks, his posture relaxed, as if he wasn't holding her future between his fingers. "This is the last chance you get to do this on your terms. So get in the car, and we can talk this over."
Halle's jaw clenched as she stared at him, her breath coming in shallow pulls. Everything inside her screamed to tell him off, to walk away and not look back. But he had struck a nerve—one he knew would leave her powerless. Her grandmother was the only family she had left, the only person who had loved her without conditions. If something happened to her because of this mess… she didn't want to live with that guilt.
"Right now I'm late for work," she muttered, her voice strained. "Maybe we should talk about it after my shift."
Zade gave a simple nod. "Then I'll drop you off. And I'll pick you up when you're done so we can finish this conversation."
She didn't answer. Her expression was tight, her emotions stuffed behind a cold exterior as she turned on her heel and headed toward his car. Each step felt like betrayal, like she was giving up a piece of her freedom just by agreeing to this. She reached the passenger door, hesitated for a second, then opened it and climbed inside, keeping her gaze fixed forward. She didn't see the smirk that curved Zade's lips as he followed suit, slipping behind the wheel with an infuriating sense of calm—like he had known she would give in all along.