/Madison's POV/
Zane's been walking on eggshells around me since the last time we had sex. Although I told him not to worry about it, I guess it kept eating him up. Even though he's a grown-ass man with anger issues, he behaves like an adorable innocent puppy sometimes.
I want him to go to bed a little earlier tonight though.
"Just come in if you're gonna be pacing in front of my door like that," I finally voiced. I'd heard his footsteps approaching my door for like thirty minutes now, followed by hesitant pacing that went on for a good five minutes on rotation.
The quiet shuffle of his socks on the carpet had become a rhythm—soft, repetitive, impossible to ignore.
Seriously, if he's gonna regret it this much, he really shouldn't have done it.
"Hey." Zane slipped in, his eyes studying mine as I put away the tablet I'd been using to study the hotel blueprint.
The glow from the screen faded from my hands, leaving the room dimmer, softer.
"I didn't see you at dinner," he pointed out.
"I wasn't hungry," I replied. And quite frankly, I wasn't — but it didn't seem like Zane believed me.
"I mean it. I had an extra-large pizza for lunch, which still hasn't digested yet, so… I don't have room for dinner." I explained, and he nodded.
"I could get you—"
"Zane, I'm not mad at you for what happened. I get it — you were pissed… I just happened to be around. It wasn't all bad. I'd have stopped you if I didn't want it, so can you stop acting like that? You're making me feel like some sort of victim who needs placating." I complained.
He heaved a sigh of relief, then walked over to my side of the bed.
The mattress dipped under his weight, the faint scent of his cologne—warm cedar and something darker—brushing past me.
As I watched him sit down, I wondered if he was finally ready to tell me what made him lose his head like that — but judging from his reluctance, I'm not sure he'll be telling me anytime soon.
"You said you needed my help taking on Allison's work… when exactly am I gonna start?" I asked, and he went stiff.
I needed to find that woman Allison was beating to a pulp. I might not need to interrogate her personally, but I could steal her phone, hack it, and get information about what happened.
After watching that video, I'm starting to think what happened might be something orchestrated by her colleagues — and to verify that, I'll need to get close to them.
"Have you ever considered that Allison might've been murdered by someone jealous of her at work?" I asked while Zane went pensive.
"I mean, think about it. If they aren't acting out right now, it might just be that Allison isn't a threat to them at the moment. But if I return to work as Allison, we might actually be able to lure them out." I suggested.
I frowned after sensing his reluctance.
"You still want to catch my sister's killer, right?" I asked, and he glanced at me with a frown.
"You have no idea how much I wanna tear apart the person who did that to her." He let out an eerie scoff, his eyes full of hate and malice.
I felt myself relax at his assurance. My sister might not be the angel Zane described her to be, but she still doesn't deserve to die. I hope Zane never finds out that part of her.
I'm not sure how he'd handle it. Wait… has he seriously not found out yet?
"Now that I think about it — what about that phone? Were you able to repair it? D'you get anything?"
My brows instinctively twitched when I saw his expression tense a bit. Then he turned back to me with a wry smile.
"Not yet. I'm not sure we'll be able to make use of it," he said regretfully.
"That's disappointing. I thought I'd finally be able to learn about the relationship between my sister and that son of a bitch."
I paused after noticing the shock on his face.
"No offense."
"None taken." He chuckled softly, and soon it was quiet again.
The silence stretched, padded only by the faint hum of the AC and the quiet thud of his leg bouncing.
"Most of Allison's projects are being redistributed — the new projects she was supposed to take on, that is — but her ongoing projects, which would cost us more to replace her on, are on hold right now. I was gonna mention it after the interview, but you beat me to the punch."
Right — the interview. It's in a couple of days, which is why I have to conclude Kim's job tomorrow no matter what. But I need to run surveillance at the site tonight, at least to prepare myself for what's next. Before that though, I need to get this brooding man to bed.
"I'm in the mood for a drink. Wanna join me?" I suggested, catching him off guard — but at least he looked happy about it.
"I'd like that." He smiled.
I rose from the bed after putting my tablet away, but strangely, I could feel his eyes following my every movement.
His gaze felt like warm fingers trailing down my spine.
Together we headed downstairs, and with every step, I felt his gaze burning into me.
The staircase lights cast long shadows, our footsteps echoing in sync against the polished wood.
Although Zane and I have been living together for over a month, we still steer away from getting personal — if sex doesn't count. We try not to ask too many questions as if knowing too much would hurt.
Well, in my case, I didn't ask because I thought there was no need to. Kim already handed me everything I needed to know about the guy — but even now, I still haven't finished reviewing his file.
I wonder if it's the same for him.
My files are classified though; even with a background check, I doubt he'd be able to get much. He probably didn't — if he had, he'd be even more suspicious of me.
"Wow, those are some really good liquor you've got there." I beamed after opening the private cabinet beneath the showcased batches of wine and alcohol.
A cool wave of rich scents—oak, smoke, citrus, aged sweetness—rolled out of the cabinet like a secret whispered into the air.
"How'd you know where to look to find the good ones?" he asked, sounding amused.
"It's not my first time seeing a bar designed like this. The good ones are always hidden away." I smirked.
"Want me to whip you something real quick? I bet I can make your tongue moan," I asked, fired up and ready to show off. Also, I'm trying to get him drunk so I can easily sneak out.
"Well, I won't mind you sweeping me off my feet. What would you recommend?" he asked.
I got mixing, using what he had available on the shelf. It was just me messing around with vodka and vanilla, but I liked the dark cocktail — it suited Zane.
The clink of glass, the swirl of clear liquid over ice, the faint perfume of vanilla rising like a sigh—it all grounded me.
"Woah, what's this?" he asked as I served him my signature drink.
"It's called Black Orchid Velvet. Anyone can mix vodka, Zane, but only a mixologist can make it breathe before you sip. Go on, have a taste." I urged.
His eyes twinkled with anticipation, and they widened the moment his tongue touched the drink. I grinned in satisfaction.
"I guess you weren't kidding when you said you own a bar. This is incredible."
"I know," I smiled, taking a vodka shot before mixing another drink.
The burn slid down my throat, warm and sharp, lighting a small fire in my chest.
"When did you start bartending? This is professional-level work."
He licked his lips — and my stomach fluttered. Whether it was from the compliment or the way his tongue slid over his lips, I couldn't tell.
"A few years ago."
I turned away sharply, afraid I'd be tempted to bite down on those inviting lips. I've only met two people who made drinking seem like the sexiest thing on earth — Zane, and that guy who knows Zane.
"It tastes like blackcurrant."
I wonder if I'll ever meet him again.
"Bingo. You know your drinks. But wait till you try this one." I slid another glass his way. His earlier cup was already empty, so he didn't hesitate.
Like that, I fed Zane five more glasses of different strong liquor mixes.
His cheeks grew warm, tinged red, eyes glassier each time he swallowed.
"I think I'm drunk," he declared, rubbing his eyes as he stared into his empty glasses.
"Yep. You've had one too many. Let's get you upstairs," I said, walking around the bar cubicle.
"Shit, I wanted to have more of your drinks. They were all really delicious. I think it'd be nice to get you a bar at the centre square, or maybe a hotel bar. I'm thinking of taking one of Elias's hotels as compensation for messing with me. If you set up a bar there, then create a brand around it—"
He rambled on, already making me a business plan.
I laughed, enjoying his drunken antics.
"Let's get you upstairs." I said, bringing his arm around my neck.
His weight leaned heavily into me, warm and unsteady, his breath brushing my cheek.
"Bartending suits you…" he rambled.
"Your hands moved like a magician with all those drinks. It's a miracle. Y'know, when we first met, you smelled like gin and tonic. It was very intoxicating. But now you just smell like Allison… I don't like that. I like your scent better."
He buried his nose into the curve of my neck. I froze.
His breath was hot against my skin, sending a shiver that shot straight through my spine.
"You smell so good." he moaned.
"Shorter hair suits you. Can you not become Allison, please? I won't like that."
"Zane, God… I can't believe you right now."
Heat rushed to my face until my whole body tingled. I tried to hurry us toward his room, but we stumbled forward into the landing.
"I'm really sorry about treating you like that, Maddy. You didn't deserve that…"
He looked down into my face with a sullen, guilt-ridden expression.
His eyes were glassy but sincere, his thumb brushing my jaw with a softness he probably wouldn't remember tomorrow.
"Fuck. You know just how to drive a woman crazy," I muttered before slamming my lips onto his.
This definitely wasn't part of the plan.
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