CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
“Whispers.”
By Tuesday morning, the white lily had been replaced by fresh roses in the Bellamy & Co. reception.
Camille had thrown the flower away herself.
"We're not letting one anonymous delivery change the atmosphere around here," she'd said.
Everyone had agreed.
Still...
Every time Zara walked through the front doors, her eyes instinctively searched the lobby.
She hated that.
She hated that someone she had never met had managed to make her question ordinary moments.
Life carried on.
Or at least, it tried to.
The Foundation Gala was only three weeks away.
Bellamy & Co. had become a whirlwind of supplier meetings, seating plans and last-minute client requests.
Zara barely had time to think.
Which, she realised, wasn't always a bad thing.
"Earth to Zara."
Naomi waved a hand in front of her face.
"You've been staring at that spreadsheet for five minutes."
"I have?"
"You haven't typed a single thing."
Zara smiled apologetically.
"Sorry."
"You don't have to apologise every time your brain takes a holiday."
Naomi lowered her voice.
"Everything okay at home?"
Zara nodded.
"Yeah."
"And with Malik?"
Another nod.
"We're okay."
"You don't sound convincing."
"We're just..."
She searched for the right word.
"...adjusting."
Naomi smiled.
"Living together?"
Zara laughed.
"I didn't realise sharing cupboard space could become a negotiation."
Naomi grinned.
"Wait until you argue over thermostat temperatures."
That evening, Zara arrived home to find music playing softly through the apartment.
Malik stood in the kitchen wearing an apron that read:
Kiss the Chef.
She burst into laughter.
"Where did you get that?"
"Winston."
"He hates me."
"He loves embarrassing you."
Malik looked down at himself.
"I should've realised."
"You definitely should have."
He walked over and kissed her.
"How was work?"
She smiled.
"Busy."
"You?"
"The same."
For a moment, they simply stood there, enjoying the comfort of being together after another long day.
"You know what I realised today?" Zara asked.
"What?"
"This apartment actually smells like us now."
He laughed.
"What does that even mean?"
"Coffee."
"Your aftershave."
"My vanilla candles."
"And whatever spice you insist on putting in absolutely everything."
"It's all-purpose seasoning."
"It has a name."
"So does magic."
She rolled her eyes.
"I walked into that one."
After dinner, they settled onto the sofa.
Zara rested her feet across Malik's lap while scrolling absent-mindedly through her phone.
Then...
She stopped.
"What?"
Malik asked.
She turned the screen towards him.
Someone had uploaded photographs from the Foundation donor reception.
Most of the comments were harmless.
Beautiful couple.
They look genuinely happy.
Good for him.
But lower down...
The tone changed.
"Wonder what happened to Lena."
"Didn't he date that Matthews girl for years?"
"People move on quickly when money's involved."
"Funny how every girlfriend disappears."
Zara frowned.
"You've become internet gossip."
Malik's expression darkened.
"I hate this."
"It's just strangers talking."
"They don't know anything."
"No."
He looked at the screen.
"But eventually someone decides to invent something."
The next morning, Malik arrived at Carter Developments to find Grace waiting nervously outside his office.
"Morning."
She hesitated.
"There's been another visitor."
His stomach tightened.
"Lena?"
Grace nodded.
"She didn't stay."
"She left this."
She handed him a small envelope.
Inside was a folded card.
I think someone has been following me too.
Please call me.
Malik read it twice.
His jaw tightened.
If Devon was watching Lena as well...
This wasn't just about intimidation anymore.
Someone was orchestrating something.
He folded the note carefully and slipped it into his inside pocket.
Across town, Devon watched security footage from outside Carter Developments.
One of his associates stood nearby.
"Lena played her part."
Devon smiled faintly.
"She doesn't even realise she's playing one."
"You think Carter will contact her?"
"He has to."
The associate frowned.
"But nothing's happened between them."
Devon looked up.
"It doesn't have to."
He tapped the screen where Malik picked up the envelope.
"People rarely fall apart because of facts."
"They fall apart because of what facts look like."
That afternoon, Zara and Naomi stopped at a café between client meetings.
As they waited for their drinks, two women at the next table were talking loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear.
"I saw that businessman again."
"The one who owns all those restaurants?"
"Yeah."
"The one with the beautiful girlfriend."
"The one who's apparently back in touch with his ex."
Zara's grip tightened around her coffee cup.
Naomi looked across the café.
"They're probably talking rubbish."
"I know."
Zara forced a smile.
"It just feels strange hearing people discuss someone you love like they know them."
Naomi squeezed her arm.
"They don't."
"And neither do you."
Zara looked confused.
"What?"
"You don't know Malik because of newspaper articles."
"You know him because you've seen him coaching kids on Saturday mornings."
"You know him because he burns tea towels."
"You know him because he leaves cupboard doors open."
Naomi smiled warmly.
"Remember the difference."
That evening, Malik unlocked the apartment to find Zara asleep on the sofa with papers scattered around her.
She'd been working again.
He smiled softly.
Carefully, he gathered the papers into a neat pile before draping a blanket over her.
As he bent to kiss her forehead, her eyes fluttered open.
"What time is it?"
"Late."
"I was waiting for you."
"You didn't have to."
"I wanted to."
She sat up sleepily.
"You okay?"
He hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then...
"Long day."
She studied him.
"You've got that look again."
"What look?"
"The one where you're carrying something by yourself."
He smiled gently.
"I'm working on that."
She reached for his hand.
"So work on it with me."
He nodded.
"I will."
He meant it.
But before he could tell her about Lena's note, his phone buzzed.
Marcus.
He glanced at the screen.
Then back at Zara.
"I need to take this."
She smiled.
"I'll make tea."
As Malik stepped onto the balcony, Marcus answered immediately.
"Boss."
"What is it?"
"We've got a problem."
Malik's expression hardened.
"Talk."
"Lena's apartment was broken into this afternoon."
"What?"
"Nothing was stolen."
Silence.
"They wanted her frightened."
Marcus lowered his voice.
"And according to her building's CCTV..."
"...someone left the same white lily on her kitchen table."
The blood drained from Malik's face.
This was no longer about his relationship.
Someone was carefully moving pieces across the board.
And for the first time...
He realised Zara wasn't the only woman being drawn into Devon's game.