Episode 5

Zayn stopped sleeping peacefully.

Every night, the same thought circled his mind.

Who ordered it?

His father had admitted their involvement. But someone had funded it. Someone had wanted Edward Whitmore dead.

And Zayn needed that name.

At Ashford Academy, whispers spread like poison.

Emma walked into class, unaware of the murmurs at first.

“She was just a time pass.”

“He got bored already.”

“Of course he would. She can’t even speak.”

Emma’s fingers tightened around her notebook.

She kept walking.

Kept her head high.

But the words still reached her.

Lucy stood up instantly. “Shut up.”

But before the argument could grow—

The classroom door opened.

Zayn entered.

Silence.

Instant.

The same students who were gossiping lowered their eyes.

Zayn didn’t look at them.

He walked straight to Emma.

She didn’t look at him either.

He stopped beside her desk.

“Stand up,” he said quietly.

The class froze.

Emma slowly looked at him.

Her eyes were hurt.

He noticed.

He turned to the class.

“Repeat what you said.”

No one spoke.

“I didn’t hear you clearly,” Zayn continued, voice calm but deadly. “Say it again.”

A boy stuttered, “W-we were just joking.”

Zayn’s eyes darkened.

“About her?”

No response.

He leaned slightly forward.

“If anyone uses her name in a sentence again, make sure I’m not around to hear it.”

Silence.

He turned back to Emma.

For a second, they simply stared at each other.

There was anger.

There was pain.

But there was also something deeper.

He gently took her notebook and wrote something.

Then placed it in front of her.

She looked down.

You think I’d ever use you?

Her heart trembled.

She slowly shook her head.

No.

He leaned closer.

“Then don’t believe them.”

Lucy watched quietly.

Something had changed between them.

It wasn’t playful anymore.

It was serious.

Heavy.

That evening, Zayn met Adrian and Ronan behind the sports building.

“I need everything on Whitmore Industries,” he said.

“Old records. Mergers. Rivalries.”

Adrian frowned. “Why?”

“Because someone paid for their deaths.”

Ronan’s expression darkened. “You think it was political?”

“It was.”

“And if you find out?”

Zayn’s jaw tightened.

“I’ll decide then.”

Meanwhile—

Emma sat in her room, reading.

She heard a soft knock.

Her heart knew before her mind did.

She opened the door.

Zayn stood there.

Not arrogant.

Not smirking.

Just… intense.

“I need to talk to you.”

She stepped aside.

He entered her room quietly.

For a moment, neither spoke.

He looked at her carefully.

“Why didn’t you look at me today?”

She picked up her notebook.

Because you didn’t look at me first.

He exhaled slowly.

“I was protecting you.”

She frowned slightly.

From what?

He stepped closer.

“From my world.”

Her eyes searched his face.

He lifted his hand slowly, brushing his fingers against her cheek.

She didn’t pull away.

“I’m trying to fix something,” he whispered.

Her breathing slowed.

She placed her hand over his.

For the first time—

She initiated touch.

His heart pounded.

He leaned forward slowly.

Their foreheads touched.

No rush.

No force.

Just closeness.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmured.

She closed her eyes.

Her fingers tightened around his shirt.

And when he kissed her—

It wasn’t hunger.

It was need.

Soft.

Lingering.

Her hands moved around his neck.

Trusting.

For a moment, the world felt quiet.

Safe.

But outside—

Someone watched.

Later that night—

As Zayn stepped out of Emma’s room, a deep voice stopped him.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Zayn turned.

Damon Whitmore stood at the end of the hallway.

Emma’s uncle.

His expression unreadable.

“Come,” Damon said calmly. “We need to talk.”

Inside his study, the air was suffocating.

Damon poured himself a drink.

“You’ve been investigating,” he said without looking at Zayn.

Zayn didn’t deny it.

“You know about the alliance.”

Damon smiled faintly.

“And do you know who arranged it?”

Zayn’s silence answered him.

Damon finally faced him.

“It was me.”

The words landed cold.

“You?” Zayn asked quietly.

“Yes.”

Zayn’s jaw tightened.

“You wanted your own brother dead?”

Damon’s eyes hardened.

“I was always below Edward. Always second. Always inferior.”

“So you killed him?”

“I removed an obstacle.”

Zayn stepped forward.

“She was in that car.”

Damon shrugged.

“She survived.”

Zayn’s voice lowered dangerously.

“You used my family.”

Damon smiled faintly.

“And your father accepted. Do you think Emma would believe you if you told her?”

Silence.

“If I say your family killed her parents, what then?”

Zayn’s fists clenched.

“You think she’d choose you?”

Damon leaned closer.

“Listen carefully. If I see you close to her again, I will kill her.”

Zayn’s eyes darkened instantly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

Damon’s tone turned colder.

“She turns eighteen soon. The entire Whitmore wealth transfers to her name then.”

Understanding dawned.

“You’re waiting.”

“Yes.”

“And until then?”

“She remains fragile.”

Zayn’s voice was sharp. “You’re her guardian.”

“I’m her strategist.”

He took a sip of his drink.

“I didn’t have a choice. I had to win. Edward always overshadowed me.”

“So you murdered him.”

“I claimed what should have been mine.”

Zayn stared at him.

“You’re pathetic.”

Damon’s smile disappeared.

“Be careful.”

Zayn stepped toward the door.

“One more threat toward her,” he said quietly, “and I won’t stay silent.”

Damon’s voice followed him.

“Remember, boy. Your family pulled the trigger.”

Zayn paused.

But didn’t turn back.

Outside—

The night felt heavier than before.

Now he knew.

The enemy wasn’t just political.

It was inside her home.

Inside her bloodline.

And she had no idea.

Zayn looked up at her bedroom window.

She stood there.

Watching him.

Her eyes soft.

Trusting.

He forced a small smile.

But inside—

War had begun.

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