Zane stirred beneath the sheets, his arm instinctively reaching for Amara. For the first time in years, her warmth was there—tangible, real, and not some dream slipping through his fingers.
Amara lay still, eyes open, head resting against his chest as she listened to the steady beat of his heart. Her fingers traced slow circles on his skin. Everything about this morning felt surreal. Not just the way his body had folded around hers in the night, or how easily their rhythm returned, but how safe it felt…
"I could get used to waking up like this," Zane murmured, voice rough with sleep and affection.
Amara smiled faintly, hiding the conflict behind her eyes. "Then maybe you should."
She rose from the bed, slipping into one of his shirts and walking toward the balcony. The ocean glistened in the distance, waves crashing loud and endless—
Zane watched her with a silent admiration, heart full, unaware of the war brewing behind her calm expression. "You're different," he said suddenly.
She tensed. "Different how?"
"Not in a bad way. Just… lighter. You're smiling again. And you touch me like you used to—before things changed between us."
She turned slowly, forcing a softer tone. "Maybe I just remembered how much I missed you."
Zane's gaze lingered on her, a flicker of doubt in his eyes—quickly overshadowed by hope. "Then let's make this work, Amara. No more walls. No more distance."
"No more lies," she echoed, though hers was a promise. The only truth she could give was silence. The rest—everything else—was a mask.
By noon, they walked hand in hand along the shore, Amara laughing at something ridiculous Zane had said. But beneath the easy smiles and shared glances, her mind was calculating.
Selene.
Darian.
She would make them pay. But not with rage. No, she'd carve her revenge with precision.
Back in their room, while Zane showered, she slipped into the adjoining space and opened her hidden journal. Pages filled with notes, names, connections, and every memory she had held onto in death. She tapped her pen against the table, then scribbled:
Phase One: Gain Zane's full trust.
Phase Two: Remove Darian from the inner business circle.
Phase Three: Expose Selene—slowly.
No mercy. No hesitation.
That evening, Zane took her out to dinner, beaming with pride at her renewed glow. They danced beneath fairy lights, surrounded by music and strangers, and Amara allowed herself to rest in his arms, just for a moment.
Later that night, Amara stepped out onto the balcony. The city stretched before her, glittering like a sea of stars, but her eyes weren't on the skyline. Her arms folded gently over her midsection .
A memory from her past crept in, uninvited.
Flashback
The laughter was soft, floating from the hallway. Amara's heart fluttered with excitement as she pushed open the nursery door, her palm resting on her growing belly. She was seven months pregnant then—glowing, nervous, and in love.
Darian stood by the window, his back to her. Her sister, Selene, was with him, whispering something that made them both chuckle.
Amara paused in the doorway, frowning. "Everything okay?" she asked.
They both turned too quickly. Selene plastered on a grin. "Of course. We were just talking about the baby. I'm excited to be an aunt."
Darian came to her, kissing her forehead. "You scared us," he murmured. "We didn't hear you coming."
The warmth in his voice felt off that day. She dismissed it then.
Now, standing on the balcony of the beach villa, the memory burned like acid. She could still remember Selene's smirk that lingered a little too long. The way Darian's fingers brushed her sister's wrist.
She was blind. Willingly blind. And they had gutted her for it.
She blinked away the tears before Zane stepped onto the balcony. "You okay?"
"I was just thinking…" she said. "How much time we've lost."
Zane wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "We'll make up for it. I promise."
They lay in bed once more, bodies tangled, skin warm. But Amara didn't sleep.
She whispered, "Zane?"
"Mhm?"
"If I had told you back then that I was falling apart… would you have believed me?"
He stirred. "Of course I would. I always knew you were slipping away—I just didn't know how to stop it."
Tears welled in her eyes. "Maybe… you were the only one who truly loved me."
Zane sat up slightly, cupping her cheek. "There's no 'maybe,' Amara. I still do. I always will."
Her lips trembled as she kissed him, and he deepened the kiss with desperation and longing. Their love made her ache—because it was real.
Love that would lead her to destroy anyone who dared to hurt him—or her