Chapter 5 Zayden Knows!

"You always act so jumpy when you're lying."

Zayden's voice cut through the silence like a well-sharpened blade. Calm, smooth, and irritatingly confident.

I stiffened, fingers still hovering near my drawer. My pulse kicked up, but I turned slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear like I hadn't just hidden the very thing that made my blood run cold.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said coolly, praying my voice didn't betray me.

His gaze dropped to my hand-still resting just a little too protectively over the drawer-and back to my face. A smirk played at the edge of his mouth.

"You're a terrible liar, Mrs. Wu."

He was toying with me. I hated how easily he did it, how comfortable he was playing both charming and menacing in the same breath. He stepped into the room like he owned it-and well, maybe he did. His gaze swept over everything, but I knew it was that drawer he was really interested in. The one that now held the envelope, the newspaper clipping, and whatever sanity I had left.

"Zayden, what do you want?" I asked, shifting to lean against the vanity, arms crossed. I needed distance-mental and physical.

He stopped a few steps away from me, his arms crossed to match mine. "I want to know what you think you're hiding. What you think you've found."

"What makes you think I've found anything?"

He let out a low chuckle, something between amusement and warning. "Because you've been... twitchy. Asking questions you think no one notices. Watching me like I'm the one under a microscope."

I gave a bitter smile. "Maybe I'm just trying to figure out who I married."

"Now that," he said, stepping closer, "is a fair question. But don't get too comfortable acting like you're the only one watching, Elara. I notice things too."

His tone shifted slightly on that last word, softer, almost curious. I hated how he always sounded like he was ten steps ahead, like he was solving a puzzle I didn't know I was part of.

He suddenly leaned down a little, voice dropping. "Do you believe in reverse psychology?"

I blinked. "What?"

He tilted his head, eyes scanning my face. "You know. When someone asks questions they already know the answers to, just to see how far the other person will go with their lie."

My breath hitched for half a second. "What do you want, Zayden?"

He took a step back finally, gaze lingering. "Maybe I just want to know how far you'll go to lie to me."

"I haven't lied."

"Hm," he hummed, unconvinced.

Just then, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. The screen lit up with Noah's name, and I cursed under my breath. Of all the times...

I grabbed it quickly. "Give me a second."

He didn't respond, but he didn't leave either.

I turned slightly away, pressing the phone to my ear. "Noah?"

"El?" His voice was lazy but concerned. "You okay? You sound... weird."

"I'm fine. Just tired, what does your time say"

"Almost enough time to be sleeping actually,but I couldn't sleep. Felt like something was wrong." He yawned. "Are you still in the devil's house?"

I flinched. "Don't call it that."

"You know what I mean."

"Noah-"

"El... don't pretend. I know that tone. You sound like Mum did when she was still pretending Dad didn't break her in pieces."

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. "I'm fine. Seriously."

A pause.

"You miss home?"

"Every day," I whispered.

"Then come home."

I closed my eyes. "I can't."

"Is he making it hard?"

"Noah," I snapped gently. "Please."

He exhaled. "Alright. But don't wait until it's too late to leave, okay?"

"I won't."

The call ended with a heavy silence. When I turned, Zayden was still there-arms folded, leaning against the far wall now, watching me like I was a documentary he couldn't quite figure out.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"No one," I said quickly.

His brow lifted. "No one sounds like a lot of someone."

I shrugged, walking past him toward the bed. "A friend. Just checking in."

"Hm."

He followed me with his eyes but didn't push. That was almost worse.

He walked over to the desk and picked up something-a pen, casually twirling it in his fingers. "You know," he began, his voice taking on that maddeningly smooth tone again, "sometimes digging into the past doesn't give you clarity. It gives you dirt. Filth. Regret."

I looked up, confused but wary.

He placed the pen down carefully, deliberately. "People don't always want the truth. They just want to believe their version of it."

"What's your version, Zayden?"

He smiled faintly. "I don't bother with versions. I prefer silence. It's cleaner."

And with that, he reached into his inner pocket, pulling something out. My heart dropped.

The envelope.

The same one I'd hidden-or so I thought.

He didn't hand it to me. Just held it casually in one hand, tapping it against his palm. "I found this on the hallway table earlier. You must've forgotten it there."

I froze. That wasn't possible. I had it-hadn't I?

Was there a second envelope? Did he plant this?

Or... had he swapped them when I wasn't looking?

My lips parted, but I said nothing.

He smiled a little, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Old headlines can stir up... intense emotions. Especially when they involve your father."

I clenched the edge of the comforter.

He turned toward the door.

"Oh," he added over his shoulder, "try not to lose sleep over it. After all, the past can't hurt you unless you let it."

The door shut behind him.

And I stood there, heart pounding, realising the terrifying truth-

He already knows everything.