CHAPTER SIX: Shadows beneath the surface

Three months earlier, Zac sat in his study, the soft hum of a late evening wrapping the room. His tie hung loose around his neck, and the whiskey in his glass had gone cold.

The silence was broken by the soft clink of Angelo’s glass against the edge of the desk.

“Let me guess… it’s about her again.” Angelo said, his voice low, carrying a note of amusement.

Zac didn’t respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, tracing faint cracks as though they held the answers he sought.

“I told you she wouldn’t show,” Angelo continued, his tone too casual for the weight of the conversation.

Zac swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his knuckles tight around the stem. “You said it. Yeah, you were right.”

Angelo smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I tried to warn you. You were setting yourself up for disappointment. Did you honestly think she’d come through?”

Zac exhaled heavily, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

He fell silent again, his thoughts dragging him back to that night. The candlelit table, the awkward bouquet of flowers resting before him, and the endless waiting for someone who never came.

“I picked up the new phone that afternoon. My old one was ruined at the site—cracked screen, wouldn’t even turn on,” he explained, the words coming slow, carrying more weight than he was ready to admit.

Angelo raised an eyebrow, giving a noncommittal grunt for him to continue.

“I swapped the SIM immediately into the new phone,” Zac continued. “We’d been texting all day. She sounded excited. We had a time and a place. I even sent the address.” He shook his head, bitterness creeping into his voice. “Then she just… vanished. No texts, no calls. Nothing.”

Angelo’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You sat there for hours?”

Zac nodded, the memory sharp in his mind. “Sat there like an idiot. Watching everyone else come and go. Waiting for something that never came.”

“Hmm… Classic,” Angelo muttered, taking a long drink. “And you really thought you could trust her?”

Zac ran a hand over his face, the frustration now spilling into a tired kind of resignation. “I tried to find her. I even went to the place she worked, asked around.” He let out a quiet laugh. “Martini said she probably moved on, found a better job, better pay. Something like that.”

Angelo shook his head, a smirk still on his lips. “Man, you did all that for her? She sure doesn’t deserve you.”

Zac let the silence stretch between them, his gaze dropping to his empty glass. “I didn’t know what I was thinking. It was… stupid.”

Angelo leaned forward, his tone a little more serious now. “You weren’t stupid, Zac. You’re just caught up in something that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Zac met his friend’s eyes, the unspoken truth hanging heavy in the room. “I guess I’ll just move on.”

Angelo chuckled, raising his glass. “Glad to hear it. To, moving on with Bella—she’s dependable, right?”

Zac clinked his glass with Angelo’s, the hollow sound echoing in the quiet room. “Maybe.”

****************

Back in the present time, Zac sat with Angelo in the same spot as when Mia had ghosted him. His mind whirled, making him chuckle dryly.

“Do you remember the day I told you about my first… ?”

“The stripper, you mean?” Angelo smirked, swirling his drink.

Zac exhaled sharply. “Her name was—” He paused, realizing the complications it could cause if he spilled out.

“Whatever her name was,” Angelo drawled. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“You know the private investigator I hired never found her.” Zac admitted, breaking the silence.

Angelo choked on his drink, laughing. “You never told me you went overboard with that.

And now?” Angelo pressed, leaning forward.

Zac hesitated, the memory of Tiffany—the stripper-turned-cook—clashing with his current life. But who is he to judge her over a relationship she never wanted?

“Now? She’s… in the past. And I don’t regret my choice.”

“Thank goodness!” Angelo sighed in relief, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To Bella, then.”

Zac hesitated, then clinked his glass against Angelo’s. “To Bella,” he repeated, though the words felt forced.

********

In the kitchen, Mia worked mechanically, her hands chopping vegetables in a rhythmic pattern that matched her internal tension. The distant sound of Bella’s voice filtered through the hallways—sweet, but edged with a sharpness that Mia had come to expect.

“You should take a break this weekend,” Bella said from the dining area. “Just us at The Sagamore Resort… it’s been too long.

“I’m not, Bella,” Zac’s voice responded from the dining room, detached and hollow, as if the words were a mere formality.

“Always too much,” Bella snapped, the frustration in her tone cutting through the air. “You never create time for me.”

Zac sighed, his voice softer now. “It’s not that. There’s just too much going on. The project launch, the anniversary dinner… it’s all at once. I need to stay focused.”

“Right,” Bella retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And I’m just supposed to wait for you?”

Zac didn’t respond, and Mia heard Bella’s chair scrape against the floor as she stood. “Fine. If you don’t care, I’ll go alone.”

Moments later, Bella’s footsteps echoed up the staircase as she left the room, leaving Zac behind.

From her spot in the kitchen, Mia could sense the tension in Zac’s voice. It wasn’t the stress of a busy schedule; it was something deeper, something raw.

She took a step toward the dining area but froze when Zac’s voice stopped her.

“Tiffany?”

Mia straightened, forcing herself to appear casual. “Yes, Sir?” she responded with a polite smile.

“What are you doing here?” Zac asked, his eyes barely leaving his tablet.

“I was about to serve dessert,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray the turmoil inside her. “We made Madam Bella’s favorite dessert cake.”

Zac nodded, a hint of acknowledgment in his eyes. “Yeah, but forget it. Bella won’t be needing that anymore… so if you’d excuse me.”

Without another word, Zac turned away, climbing the stairs to chase after Bella, leaving Mia standing there. Her heart sank, confirming that her presence no longer mattered to him.

She felt jealousy rise in her chest—a bitter, unwelcome sensation she forced herself to swallow down.

********

A week passed since Bella left for her vacation, and the house had adjusted to a strange, almost noticeable quiet. It wasn’t the absence of noise, but a relief from her dominating presence.

The stillness, however, did little to ease Mia’s growing anxiety.

Angelo appeared again, this time quietly slipping into the kitchen with a casual air. He rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a handful of vegetables from Mia’s cutting board, his smile infectious.

“Let me help you with that,” he said, his tone light but sincere.

“I’ve got it, Angelo,” Mia shook her head, trying to push him away. “Shouldn’t you be with Sir Zac?”

Angelo shrugged, leaning back against the counter. “Zac’s perfectly capable of brooding without me. Besides, I’d rather be here… you’re far more interesting.”

Mia glanced away, unsure how to respond. His presence was a complication she couldn’t afford, yet there was a comfort in the way he treated her like a person, not just another staff member.

“You’re awfully nosy, Angelo,” she said, allowing a small smile to slip through her lips.

“I call it curiosity,” Angelo replied, his grin returning. “So, Tiffany, tell me—what’s keeping you here? This job doesn’t exactly scream ‘dream career’.”

“Yes, I know, but right now… it pays my bills.”

“Hmm… how about we discuss that over dinner tomorrow evening? I can help you with better job offers, you know.”

Before she could respond, the sound of footsteps interrupted them. Both turned to see Zac standing in the doorway, his expression sharp and unreadable as usual.

“Angelo,” Zac said, his tone clipped. “You seem to have a habit of being where you shouldn’t.”

Angelo straightened, the ever-present smirk still on his lips as he turned to face Zac. “I was just keeping your cook company.”

Zac’s gaze shifted to Mia, lingering just long enough to make her uncomfortable. This time, she thought she caught something in his gaze—sharp, possessive, and fleeting.

“She’s not here for company, Angelo,” Zac said evenly. “If you wish to work in my kitchen, you can also email your CV.”

Angelo smirked, pushing himself forward. “Alright, boss, message received.” He turned to Mia with a conspiratorial tone. “Hey, Tiffany, 5 p.m. tomorrow, okay?”

He gave Mia a parting wink before drifting out of the room, leaving the tension thick in his wake.

Zac stepped further into the room, his presence commanding. “The chef called in sick, so you’ll need to cover a double shift tomorrow night. I’ll still be here, so someone needs to make my favorite coffee.”

“Understood. I’ll be here.” Mia nodded quickly.

Immediately, Zac left the kitchen, leaving it empty behind him. Mia stared at the coffee machine, uncertain. She had never made Zac’s coffee before—it was always the chef’s job. Now, with him out, it was up to her. She just hoped she wouldn’t mess it up.

*********

Later that night, as Mia prepared to leave the estate, her phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, she saw Xiang’s name flash across the display.

She quickly stepped into the staff bathroom, closing the door behind her.

“ You’ve been there for weeks now, yet we have nothing to show for it,” Xiang’s voice crackled through the line, sharp and impatient. “What’s taking so long?”

Mia swallowed hard, anxiety tightening in her chest. “I’m working on it. Zac’s not someone you can just get close to—he’s too careful. I just need more—”

“Time isn’t a luxury we have,” Xiang interrupted, his frustration evident. “It seems you’ve forgotten the reason your mother is still unharmed.”

“I understand,” Mia’s response came in quick gasps.

If I don’t get something by tomorrow, you’ll find out just how serious I am.”

Xiang’s cold, unyielding voice lingered in her mind even after the call ended. Mia stared at her phone, its silence weighing heavily on her.”

The pressure was mounting. Every passing day pulled her deeper into the tangled web she had woven, and the way out was becoming harder to see.

And there was no turning back now.