CHAPTER 77 – The Distracting Kind of Apology
The next day unfolded with a deceptive calm.
Nothing urgent happened at the company. No emergencies. No scandals. No family threats whispered down office hallways. Just paperwork, numbers, and long hours of silence.
And yet, Alex couldn’t focus on a single thing.
Her fingers hovered over her keyboard more often than they typed. Her eyes drifted from the screen, from the reports, from the clock—and always landed on one thing.
Zade.
He was keeping his distance.
A cold, polite distance that felt sharper than anger. Since yesterday, since she’d mentioned Michael in a moment of panic, things between them had shifted. He hadn’t confronted her again, hadn’t pressed for answers—but he hadn’t exactly acted normal either.
Only necessary conversations. A glance here and there. Brief, clipped responses.
And it bugged her.
It shouldn’t have. She knew it shouldn’t. This whole engagement wasn’t real. It was convenience. Business. A performance.
But somewhere between her lies and his silence, something started to ache.
Alex gritted her teeth and forced herself to concentrate. She needed her head in the game. Tonight was critical. Everything depended on timing—and on her.
By the time the clock hit 6:00 p.m., she was already calling Arthur.
He picked up on the second ring.
“We’re almost ready,” he said before she even spoke.
“You’re with David?”
“Yeah. He’s prepping the gear. Seems a little too excited, if I’m being honest.”
Alex smirked slightly. “That’s comforting.”
“Any updates on your end?”
“I still don’t know how I’m going to keep Zade out long enough.”
In the background, David’s voice chimed in: “Tell her to worry about her job and leave the sneaky stuff to the professionals.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “How are you two planning to go unnoticed, anyway?”
David grabbed the phone. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Just send the damn signal when you get him out. We'll take care of the rest.”
Before she could argue, the line went dead.
***
By 10:30, Alex was home, pacing her room like the walls were closing in. She showered, changed into something casual—but flattering—and pulled her hair back loosely, letting a few pieces fall around her face.
She looked effortless.
She felt like a ticking bomb.
At 11:00 p.m., she picked up her phone and called him.
Zade answered on the third ring.
“Yes?”
“I need to see you,” she said quietly.
A pause. “Now?”
“Yes. Come meet me.”
“Where?”
She hesitated for just a second. “Near the port.”
Another pause. “That’s far.”
“I know.”
There was silence on the line.
And then: “Fine. I’ll be there in thirty.”
She hung up, exhaled, and typed a quick message to Arthur.
Zade out.
A simple phrase. But it held all their hopes inside it.
She stared at the screen for a moment, then tucked the phone away and left.
***
The port was mostly deserted at this hour—quiet, windswept, the waves slapping against rusted metal barriers and distant boats creaking in the dark. Streetlamps buzzed faintly above her, casting golden circles on wet pavement.
She stood near the end of the dock, watching the black water ripple with the wind, hugging her jacket tighter around her.
Then footsteps echoed behind her.
Zade.
He stopped a few feet away, eyes narrowed as he took in the scenery.
“Why are we here?” he asked.
She turned to face him. “I wanted to say sorry.”
He blinked. “You? Sorry?”
Alex huffed, folding her arms. “Don’t make me change my mind.”
Zade stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “About what?”
“The whole Michael thing,” she said, staring past him at the water. “You were right. I was looking in the wrong place for the traitor. He’s not hiding in your company. He was closer than I thought.”
Zade tilted his head slightly. “Michael was the traitor?”
Alex nodded. “I shouldn’t have gone to meet him yesterday, either. I just needed to tell him to stay out of my life. Close that door for good.”
Zade frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”
She turned her gaze to him. “Aren’t you my husband from now on?”
His eyebrows lifted. “Fiancé. And we both know it’s not real.”
“None of it?” she asked softly.
He didn’t answer right away.
His eyes studied her face like he was trying to decide what part of that question was a trap. But there was something else beneath the surface—something harder to define. That strange tension neither of them could name. Like they were standing at the edge of something unspoken.
Eventually, he looked away.
Alex took a breath, then changed the subject. “I need a drink.”
Zade gave her a wary look. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“I’m trying to get you out of your own head.”
He didn’t argue.
They began walking side by side toward the late-night food truck spot just outside the port’s parking zone. The wind tugged at their clothes and hair, the sky dark above them.
As they neared the sidewalk, Alex hesitated... then slowly reached out and grabbed his hand.
Zade flinched at first, startled.
She expected him to pull away.
He didn’t.
His fingers tensed slightly, then settled around hers, warm and steady.
Neither of them said a word.
They walked like that—quiet, strange, pretending they didn’t feel the undercurrent between them. Pretending this was just another night. Pretending this wasn’t a distraction designed to let two criminals break into his family's secrets while he held her hand.
But Alex knew one thing for sure.
She didn’t like lying to him.
Not anymore.
And for the first time since this whole thing began, she found herself wondering not about what they’d find in the archive—
—but what would happen when Zade discovered everything she’d done to get there.