CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
“Ghosts don’t stay buried.”
Monday mornings were usually predictable.
Coffee.
Emails.
Traffic.
Meetings.
This one wasn't.
Malik had barely stepped into Carter Developments when his receptionist looked up nervously.
"Good morning, Mr. Carter."
"Morning, Grace."
She hesitated.
"There's... someone here asking to see you."
"I've got meetings until lunch."
"I explained that."
"And?"
Grace lowered her voice.
"She said she'd wait."
Malik frowned.
"Who is she?"
Grace glanced towards the reception area.
"I think..."
"...you should see for yourself."
A woman stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan.
Elegant.
Confident.
Her dark hair rested neatly over one shoulder, and she wore a tailored cream coat that looked as though it belonged on the cover of a magazine.
The moment she turned around, Malik stopped walking.
"Lena."
She smiled faintly.
"It's been a long time."
His expression remained unreadable.
"What are you doing here?"
"You always did get straight to the point."
"I asked you a question."
She took a slow breath.
"I need five minutes."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Please."
There was something in her voice that didn't sound rehearsed.
Not manipulative.
Just... tired.
After a long pause, Malik nodded once.
"My office."
Across Brooklyn, Zara was completely unaware of the conversation unfolding.
Bellamy & Co. was preparing for another client presentation.
Camille stood at the front of the conference room.
"I've had some excellent feedback from the Hamptons wedding."
Naomi grinned.
"I'll take all the compliments."
Camille smiled.
"You earned them."
She looked at Zara.
"So did you."
A warm feeling spread through Zara's chest.
She'd spent so much of her life believing she wasn't enough.
Now...
People were trusting her.
Believing in her.
She was finally beginning to believe in herself.
Inside Malik's office, silence lingered between him and Lena.
She looked around the room.
"You've done well."
"I've worked hard."
"I can see that."
Neither of them sat down.
Neither seemed comfortable.
Finally Malik spoke.
"What do you want?"
Lena looked directly at him.
"To apologise."
He wasn't expecting that.
"For what?"
"For disappearing."
A humourless laugh escaped him.
"You're about eight years late."
"I know."
"I wasn't ready before."
He folded his arms.
"And now?"
"My mother died."
His expression softened, if only slightly.
"I'm sorry."
"So was I."
She looked down for a moment.
"Losing her made me realise how many people I'd left things unsaid with."
Malik stayed quiet.
"So I started trying to make things right."
He looked at her carefully.
"Why now?"
"Because I heard about your Foundation."
"I saw an interview."
She smiled sadly.
"You looked... happy."
Malik remembered Lena well.
She had been part of a chapter of his life he'd tried hard to forget.
They'd met when he was twenty-two.
Long before prison.
Long before Foundation House.
Long before he became the man he was now.
Their relationship had burned brightly.
Then collapsed spectacularly.
Too much money.
Too much pride.
Too many bad decisions.
When he was arrested...
She'd vanished.
No visits.
No letters.
Nothing.
Until today.
"I've moved back to New York," Lena said.
"I'm not asking for anything."
"I just..."
She hesitated.
"...didn't want the last version of me you remembered to be the only one that existed."
Malik nodded slowly.
"I appreciate the apology."
Relief flickered across her face.
"But..."
His voice remained calm.
"My life's different now."
"I know."
"I'm with someone."
"I know."
That surprised him.
"You do?"
She smiled gently.
"The internet talks."
He almost laughed.
"It certainly does."
"I'm not here to interfere."
"I genuinely hope she's good to you."
Malik looked at her for a long moment.
"She is."
"And I hope..."
He smiled without realising it.
"...I'm good to her."
Across the city, Zara's afternoon took an unexpected turn.
Naomi hurried across the office holding her phone.
"Don't panic."
"I already don't like how that started."
"Someone's outside asking for you."
"For me?"
Naomi nodded.
"They say they're from a newspaper."
Zara frowned.
"A newspaper?"
"I told reception not to let them in."
Before Zara could respond, Camille appeared.
"I'll deal with it."
She looked at Zara reassuringly.
"You don't owe anybody an interview."
Fifteen minutes later, Camille returned.
"They've gone."
"What did they want?"
She sighed.
"They wanted to know how you met Malik."
Zara looked down at her desk.
"It really is becoming public, isn't it?"
Camille nodded.
"I'm afraid so."
That evening, Malik arrived home later than usual.
He looked distracted.
Zara noticed immediately.
"Long day?"
"The longest."
She walked over and kissed his cheek.
"You okay?"
He nodded.
"Just work."
It wasn't a complete lie.
But it wasn't the whole truth either.
As they ate dinner together, Zara chatted about work, the journalist, and Naomi's latest attempt at matchmaking one of the suppliers.
Malik listened.
He laughed in all the right places.
But part of him remained somewhere else.
Back in his office.
Thinking about Lena.
Thinking about the past.
After dinner, Zara curled up beside him on the sofa.
"You've gone quiet."
He smiled faintly.
"Just tired."
She rested her head against his shoulder.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?"
His chest tightened.
"I know."
She looked up at him.
"I mean it."
He kissed her forehead.
"I know."
But after she'd fallen asleep against him, Malik remained awake.
His phone buzzed.
A single message.
From an unknown number.
Thank you for seeing me today.
I genuinely wish you happiness.
– Lena
He stared at the screen for several seconds before locking the phone.
He didn't reply.
He didn't delete the message.
He simply placed the phone face down on the coffee table.
Across the street, hidden behind the dark windows of a parked car, another phone camera captured the moment.
Not the message.
Just enough.
A photograph of Malik alone on the sofa.
Looking at his phone.
A woman asleep beside him.
The perfect beginning to a story that didn't yet exist.
And somewhere else in Brooklyn, Devon smiled as the image landed in his inbox.
"Good," he murmured.
"Now we have our first secret."