/Zane's POV/
I dreamt of Allison again. Lost in the intoxicating scent of her rose perfume, the faint vanilla warmth of her skin, and the citrusy trace of her shampoo, I felt buried in her warmth.
I wanted more, so I dragged her closer, haunted by the image of her gentle, taunting smile. I saw her dancing in my sitting room in that knitted cream oversized sweater she loved so much, her long legs moving flawlessly to a tune my hazy brain couldn't place.
Her smile and childlike giggles were everything. I was lost in them, watching her dance freely like a bird in the sky, freely, gracefully as though she was weightless—until the dream twisted. Suddenly she had a knife to her chest. The cream sweater soaked red.
"Allison!" I cried, rushing forward. I caught her as she fell, pleading desperately, "Ally, please…stay with me!" But her warmth slipped away. She smiled faintly, and then she turned cold in my arms.
I woke up with tears in my eyes, standing in the middle of the sitting room.
"What the—" The words died in my throat when I spotted Madison's silhouette at the entrance of the guest wing.
"Madison, do you need something?" My voice broke the silence.
Her face was pale, as if she'd seen a ghost.
My confusion blurred into curiosity. "Is something wrong?" I questioned further and she gently shook her head.
"I… I needed some water," she said quickly, walking to the fridge. Her brows were slightly knitted, eyes restless. "What about you? What are you doing up, it's 3 in the morning" She pointed out as she retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Honestly? I can't remember. Probably came out for water too," I answered, though I had no memory of leaving my bed. Maybe I'd worn myself out finishing the work I'd neglected since Allison's accident. I'd already started slacking on work preparing for the announcement of her marriage which didn't help my workload.
Madison's gaze lingered on me as I grabbed a bottle from the fridge. I turned sharply, but she looked away. "Are you sure you don't need anything? You can let me know," I offered, my hand hovering on the cap, reluctant to open it in case I missed her reply.
Maybe she was just feeling a little shy coming forward to me with her demands, I can't shake the feeling that she wanted something or she wanted to tell me something.
"It's nothing. Goodnight." Her abrupt words ended the moment. She disappeared down the hall, leaving me staring after her shadow until it vanished.
Her steps struck me—they were nothing like Allison's gait; the polished glide of someone who'd spent decent years on the runway, Madison's pace was quick and silent, the gait of someone used to avoiding attention.
"Cut it out!" I mentally scolded myself forcing my thoughts away as I returned to bed.
Maybe it was the broken sleep, but I woke up feeling even more drained than usual. It had been that way since Allison's incident, and though I told myself I'd get over it soon, I wondered if I should see my doctor.
"Um…good morning," I croaked as I stepped out with my briefcase, only to find Madison already at the dining table.
"Shit!" I cursed under my breath suddenly remembering she lived here now—and that I should have planned breakfast. Yesterday I'd done it out of courtesy. Today, it completely slipped my mind.
I don't take breakfast, just tea in the morning and I have an exclusive restaurant for my launch while Maria handles my dinner since I'm mostly almost home in time for dinner.
Her home-cooked meals were the best.
Now that I think about it, what exactly did Madison have for lunch yesterday? I wondered.
She was halfway through an egg sandwich when she noticed me, choking slightly before reaching for her water.
"Good morning." My greetings were low and rueful.
"Good morning," She managed a response with a mouthful of food.
"I am very sorry. I should have handled breakfast," I immediately apologised for my negligence.
"No, don't worry 'bout it. I hope you don't mind. I took a look at your fridge and it seems you have all the ingredients needed to whip up a meal so I made it." She said,
I was however rather distracted by her perfectly shaped triangular cut-out sandwich, which looked almost professionally made. How did she even make those?
"You want some? I made extra. I mean you made me breakfast yesterday." She offered with a small smile yet bright enough to light up her whole face.
Ignoring the temptation to pull a chair and join her, "I don't usually eat breakfasts" I made known. I'd eaten with her yesterday because it was common courtesy, I mean we just started cohabitation. "I apologise, I hadn't planned for your lunch yesterday. I'll have Maria prepare your lunch from now on." I promised remorsefully,
"I don't usually eat lunch" She admitted flatly. It almost had me wondering if she was trying to pull one on me.
I blinked, noticing her firm expression. "Wait, you're not joking"
She shook her head. "No. I bartend from morning into the evenings, so I got used to skipping it. Just became a habit."
"Oh, a professional quirk." I remarked and she smiled. "It's the same for me." Skipping breakfast had become an occupational habit after years of early board meetings.
"I noticed." She pointed out. "Look…Zane." She started gently lowering her leftover sandwich. Even though we're living together, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable. I'm already glad you're letting me crash while they investigate my sister's death and for giving me this much freedom.
"Madison—"
"Please call me Maddy.People haven't called me my full name in years." She interrupted. Her gentle smile looked almost pleading. I guess that how foreign the name sounded to her ears.
"Alright, Maddy. You're not a prisoner here. The situation is complicated, but I want you to have as much freedom as possible."
"Thank you. I guess you can see me as a temporary roommate. You really don't have to worry about meals. Just keep the fridge stocked." Then her expression hardened. "But about my sister's killer—we agreed we'd work together. I'd appreciate regular updates." Something about her rigid tone told me she wouldn't compromise on that.
So that's it. Maybe the real reason she agreed to the deal was access to information. Was it to cover her own tracks—or something else?
"You're right. I owe you that much." I pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. "The stalker was released."
"What?" Her frown was instant.
"I'm sorry. The investigation cleared him. He was just a fan and he had a pretty a solid alibi. They found nothing tying him to her death."
"So, they have nothing." She could hardly hide the annoyance in her tone. "Incompetent idiots," She grumbled while pretending to be suddenly interested in the fruit juice she served with the sandwich, reaching for it while . She probably didn't mean for me to catch that comment but I did and it had me swallowing a smile.
"I'm really sorry. I'd try to put more pressure on them." I said but she didn't look very reassured. Her nonchalance was obvious, like she didn't have an ounce of trust in the police in the first place.
Madison is a lot more difficult to read than I thought.
"I should head to work. I'll keep you updated—and let me know if you have questions about… project 'act Allison,'" No reaction. I guess the joke came out a little too dry. "I mean you can let me know if it's too difficult"
"Oh sure." She replied while I stood and started heading for the entrance but halted at the call of my name only to see her rushing over with a packed box of sandwiches.
"You should have that. I don't mean to be shameless, it's just…I don't want it to go to waste" She said before returning back to the dining table before I had a chance to turn her down.
No one's ever packed me lunch before. I thought, staring at the small plastic she handed me in awe.
Her blank look haunted me through my meetings. Unlike Allison, who was always smiling, Madison rarely did. But when she did… her face glows. She had the type of smile that made you pause and fumble your words.
By the time I convinced Allison's project managers to give us more time to come up with a solution about Allison's pending project, it was nearly lunch. I sat in my office, staring at the sandwich triangles in the container Madison's gave me.
I've seen familiar plastics in the fridge and never really paid attention to them until now.
I was about to take a bite when my phone rang. I snatched it up before it finished the first ring..
"Let me hear it," I said, bracing myself for an update.
Instead, Vik's voice exploded through the line.
"What did you do Zane?" Vikram demanded, plunging my mind into a hurricane of confusion.
My chest tightened. "What are you talking about?"
"I mean, I get it—it's your fiancée who died. But torturing a man? That's beneath you."
His words landed sharp and clear, but my mind spun. Torturing? What the hell was he talking about?
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