CHAPTER 79 — The Ones Who Shouldn't Kiss

Zade’s gaze had been on her for a while now.

Alex could feel it—curious, suspicious, quietly simmering. She didn’t dare look at him as she brought the glass of whiskey to her lips and downed half of it in one go.

It burned like hell going down. Sharp. Cheap. Effective.

They sat side by side in a hole-in-the-wall bar that reeked of old cigars and spilled alcohol, the kind of place that didn’t ask questions when you walked in at midnight looking half-crazed and unwilling to explain yourself. It was her choice. She needed somewhere dim. Somewhere distracting. Somewhere no one would ask why she was clinging to the man she once promised to destroy.

Zade hadn’t said much since she called him.

Not about the sudden call.

Not about the way she told him to meet her in fifteen minutes, or how her fingers were still laced with his on the counter like it was normal. Like she wasn’t usually threatening to punch him in the throat.

He only sipped his own drink with quiet restraint. Barely two fingers worth of whiskey. Probably still his first.

Alex, on the other hand, had just emptied her second glass. “Bartender,” she called, her voice lower than usual, thick with something she didn’t want to name. “One more.”

Before the man behind the counter could grab the bottle, Zade reached out and snatched the glass from in front of her.

“That’s more than enough,” he said sharply.

Alex blinked at him, swaying slightly on the barstool. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

The haze was setting in. Everything around her started to blur, the room a slow spin. Her stomach felt light, and her limbs warm, and her thoughts—God, they were all over the place.

Zade exhaled a long, frustrated breath. “It’s late. You should go home. And so should I.”

He stood up.

Alex’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall.

12:00 AM.

Her heart lurched.

They needed him away for at least twenty more minutes.

“Zade, wait!” she blurted, far too loud, pushing herself up too fast from the stool. Her legs nearly gave out beneath her.

Instinct took over—her hand reached for his.

Zade spun around just in time to catch her before she could fall face-first into the floor. His arms closed around her waist.

“Careful,” he muttered.

Alex looked up at him, her lashes heavy, mind slipping in and out of clarity.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

And the worst part was—she didn’t even know if it was part of the mission anymore.

Zade’s brows furrowed, his entire body freezing as he stared down at her, like she’d just ripped the ground out from under him. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so utterly lost.

But he didn’t argue.

Wordless, he draped her arm over his shoulder and guided her toward the door, steadying her with every slow step. The night air was sharp when they stepped outside, slicing through the haze in her skull just enough to keep her half-aware.

“You’re drunk,” Zade said, softer than usual. “You need to rest, idiot.”

Alex didn’t argue.

When they reached his car, Zade helped her into the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt with careful precision. His fingers brushed her collarbone for a second too long. Her breath hitched.

He didn’t seem to notice.

Or maybe he did.

He slid into the driver’s side and didn’t start the engine right away. Just sat there. Silent. Still. Eyes flicking toward her and then away again.

She stared at him.

Then, without thinking, without planning, without warning—Alex leaned in and kissed him.

It was clumsy at first. Her lips pressed to his, awkward and off-center, dizzy from too much whiskey and not enough control.

But then something shifted.

Zade stilled. For one brief second, she felt the hesitation in him.

And then he kissed her back.

His hand found her waist like it belonged there. His mouth moved against hers, hot and hungry and furious. There was nothing hesitant about it now. It was too much. Too deep. Too intense for the moment they were in. Too loaded with everything they didn’t say.

It lasted longer than it should have.

And then—it ended.

Zade pulled back abruptly, his breath ragged. His forehead dropped against the steering wheel for a second, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“You’re…” he started, then stopped himself. “You’re drunk. You don’t understand what you’re doing.”

He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’ll sleep it off. Pull yourself together.”

Alex didn’t answer. Her chest was too tight. Her head was spinning too fast.

She felt the ache of something unnamed. And a bitterness she hadn’t expected.

Zade started the car.

The soft hum of the engine was the last thing she heard before she slumped into the seat and let sleep take her.

***

Morning light poured through the enormous windows.

Alex stirred, blinking at the soft gray sheets beneath her and the familiar masculine scent clinging to the pillows.

Zade’s bed.

But the man himself wasn’t beside her.

When she sat up slowly, head pounding, she saw him on the nearby couch—curled up awkwardly, still fully dressed, one arm slung over his eyes.

She stared at him in silence.

Did he carry her in last night? Or did she somehow stumble up here and just forget?

The memory of the kiss returned in fragments. His mouth. His hand on her waist. The way he stopped. The way she didn’t want him to.

She shook her head and stood.

The floor tilted beneath her, but she found her balance after a few seconds. She crossed the room and, after a moment’s hesitation, grabbed a blanket from the bed and gently draped it over Zade’s still form.

He didn’t stir.

Alex left quietly.

Outside, the fresh air hit her like a slap. It sobered her faster than anything else could. She climbed into her own car and drove aimlessly for a while, until her phone buzzed with a message.

Arthur: Meet me. Urgent.

She turned the car around without hesitation and sped to the location he sent.

When she arrived, she found Arthur pacing outside a quiet café, David leaning against a nearby lamppost with arms crossed.

They both looked up the second she approached.

“Well?” she asked, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “Did you get it?”

Arthur’s expression fell.

David looked away.

Arthur sighed. “We know where it is. And how it looks.”

Alex narrowed her eyes. “But?”

“We didn’t get it.”