Episode 4

The next morning felt different.

Not heavy.

Not chaotic.

Just… quieter.

Lucy stood near the corridor railing when she saw Zayn approaching. For once, she didn’t look angry.

She looked thoughtful.

When he came close, she spoke first.

“Thank you.”

Zayn stopped.

“For what?”

“For yesterday.”

His expression remained unreadable.

“If you’re thanking me,” he said calmly, “let her say it.”

Lucy’s jaw tightened slightly.

“You know she can’t speak.”

Zayn’s eyes darkened — but not with cruelty.

“I know,” he replied quietly. “But her eyes can.”

Lucy studied him carefully.

Then she stepped closer.

“Listen carefully, Zayn Ashford. Maybe this one time I’m grateful. But if you ever hurt her…” her voice dropped, deadly calm, “I will kill you.”

For a second, silence stretched between them.

Zayn smirked faintly.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Before Lucy could respond—

Emma stepped forward.

She had been standing behind Lucy the entire time.

Watching.

Observing.

Her eyes moved to Zayn.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other.

Then—

She raised her hands slowly.

Her fingers moved gently in the air.

Precise.

Graceful.

Zayn frowned slightly.

“What is that?”

Lucy sighed softly.

“She’s saying thank you.”

Zayn looked back at Emma.

“Is that thank you?”

Emma nodded.

He stepped closer.

Too close.

“Do you hate me?” he asked suddenly.

Lucy looked confused.

But Emma didn’t hesitate.

She shook her head.

No.

That small movement made something inside him shift.

He studied her face.

“Why not?”

Emma paused.

Then she slowly wrote on the small notebook she always carried.

She turned it toward him.

You didn’t look at me like I was weak.

Zayn read it twice.

His expression softened — just slightly.

“I don’t like weak people,” he said.

Emma’s lips curved faintly.

It was small.

But it was real.

Lucy noticed it immediately.

That smile.

She hadn’t seen it in a long time.

Days passed differently after that.

People still whispered about Emma being mute.

But something changed.

Because now—

Zayn walked beside her.

Not possessively.

Not arrogantly.

Just… beside her.

When someone tried to mock her, he would simply look at them.

And that was enough.

Emma felt something unfamiliar growing inside her.

For years, people had avoided her.

Beautiful.

Elegant.

Untouchable.

But silent.

And silence scared people.

But Zayn wasn’t scared.

He wasn’t gentle either.

He was intense.

Unpredictable.

But when he looked at her—

She didn’t feel broken.

She felt seen.

One afternoon near the empty staircase, they stood alone.

“You’re smiling more,” Zayn said quietly.

Emma looked away.

He stepped closer.

“Is that because of me?”

She didn’t answer.

But she didn’t leave.

His hand lifted slowly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

She froze.

But she didn’t flinch.

His voice lowered.

“You don’t pull away.”

Her breathing slowed.

He searched her eyes one last time.

Then—

He kissed her.

Soft.

Not aggressive.

Not claiming.

Just testing.

Emma stood still.

Her heart racing violently inside her chest.

But she didn’t step back.

Her fingers tightened slightly against his shirt.

And that small reaction—

That was enough for him.

He pulled away slowly.

“You don’t hate me,” he murmured.

She looked at him.

Her eyes weren’t angry.

They weren’t scared.

They were confused.

But warm.

Neither of them noticed—

Someone standing at the far end of the corridor.

A stranger.

A camera flashing silently.

That night—

Zayn entered his father’s study.

The air inside was cold.

Heavy.

His father sat behind the large desk.

A single photograph lay on the table.

Zayn walked forward casually.

Until he saw it.

The photo.

Him.

Kissing Emma.

His jaw tightened.

His father looked up slowly.

“Who is she?”

Zayn didn’t look away from the picture.

“Her name is Emma.”

“Emma who?”

“Emma Whitmore.”

Silence.

His father leaned back.

“You’re in love?”

Zayn’s expression hardened.

“Yes.”

A faint smile appeared on his father’s lips.

Cruel.

“You have interesting taste.”

Zayn’s eyes narrowed.

“What does that mean?”

His father folded his hands.

“We killed her parents.”

The room went silent.

The words echoed.

Zayn felt like the ground disappeared beneath him.

“What?”

“It was business. There was a proposal,” his father continued. “A powerful alliance. They wanted Whitmore Industries. Emma’s father refused to merge.”

“So?” Zayn’s voice was sharp now.

“So the alliance approached us. They funded one of our largest expansions in exchange for… assistance.”

His chest tightened painfully.

“Only the child survived,” his father continued casually. “Unfortunate.”

Zayn’s hands clenched.

“You’re lying.”

His father’s eyes were cold.

“I never lie about business.”

Zayn felt sick.

Emma.

The accident.

Lucy’s words.

She has gone through much.

His breathing grew uneven.

“And now,” his father continued, “you’re playing romance with the daughter of a man I eliminated.”

Zayn’s voice dropped dangerously.

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

His father’s smile faded.

“You will end this.”

Zayn didn’t respond.

He couldn’t.

His mind was spinning.

If this was true—

Then what was he?

Her protector?

Or the son of her destroyer?

The next day—

He avoided her.

Completely.

Emma noticed immediately.

When she approached him, he walked away.

When she looked at him, he looked elsewhere.

And then—

She saw him.

With another girl.

Laughing.

Holding her waist.

Kissing her.

Publicly.

Deliberately.

Emma stood frozen.

Her chest hurt.

For the first time—

Her eyes filled with tears.

Not dramatic.

Not loud.

Just silent pain.

Zayn saw her.

He saw the tears.

And it felt like someone stabbed him.

But he forced himself to look away.

Because if he touched her again—

He would drag her into his father’s darkness.

And he refused to let that happen.

Even if it meant breaking her.

Even if it meant breaking himself.

Later that evening—

He found Lucy.

“What happened to her parents?” he asked quietly.

Lucy’s expression darkened instantly.

“Why?”

“Just tell me.”

She hesitated.

Then spoke.

“They loved her more than anything. She was their world. We were traveling together that night.”

Her voice trembled slightly.

“There was an attack. Gunshots. The car lost control.”

Zayn’s stomach twisted.

“Her parents died protecting her. She survived.”

Lucy looked away.

“She hasn’t spoken since.”

Silence.

“She saw everything,” Lucy whispered. “She watched them die.”

Zayn closed his eyes.

And for the first time in his life—

He felt ashamed of his last name.

Back in her room—

Emma stared at the ceiling.

The memory of his kiss.

The memory of him with another girl.

The confusion.

The hurt.

She didn’t understand.

But she felt one thing clearly.

She loved him.

And he had pushed her away.

Without a word.

Without explanation.

And somewhere in the dark—

Zayn sat alone in his room.

Staring at his hands.

The same hands that touched her.

The same bloodline that destroyed her family.

He whispered into the silence—

“I don’t deserve you.”

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