Ayla didn't sleep that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she felt his presence... his voice echoing in her mind.
"You belong to me."
The words refused to leave her.
The room felt suffocating, the silence too loud, too heavy. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, trying to steady her breathing.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
It was just a deal.
Just one year.
So why did it feel like a lifetime?
Morning came, but it didn't bring any relief.
Ayla stood by the large window, staring outside at the endless stretch of the estate. Guards moved around like shadows, silent and alert.
There was no freedom here.
Only control.
Only him.
The door opened behind her.
She turned instantly, her body tensing.
A maid walked in, her head slightly lowered. "Good morning, Mrs. Varez.
Mr. Varez is waiting for you downstairs."
Ayla hesitated for a second before nodding.
"Tell him... I'll be there."
The dining hall was massive.
Too quiet.
Too perfect.
Zayn sat at the head of the table, already dressed, already composed-as if he hadn't just turned her life upside down the night before.
He didn't look at her when she entered.
"Sit," he said.
Ayla clenched her jaw but obeyed, sitting across from him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then-
"Eat," he said.
"I'm not hungry."
Zayn finally looked up.
And the intensity in his gaze made her regret those words instantly.
"That wasn't a suggestion," he said.
Ayla picked up the fork slowly.
The tension between them was unbearable.
Every second felt like a test.
And she didn't even know the rules.
"Who was she?"
The question slipped out before she could stop herself.
Zayn's hand froze.
Just for a second.
But Ayla noticed.
Her heart skipped.
"I heard a name," she continued carefully. "Last night… you said it."
Silence.
Dangerous silence.
Zayn placed the fork down slowly.
The calmness in his movements was more terrifying than anger.
"You should learn to stay quiet," he said.
Ayla's grip tightened.
"I'm your wife," she replied, forcing courage into her voice. "I have the right to know."
Zayn laughed softly.
A cold, humorless laugh.
"Rights?" he repeated. "You think this is that kind of marriage?"
Ayla felt her chest tighten.
"Then what kind of marriage is this?" she asked.
Zayn didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he stood up and walked toward her.
Step by step.
Slow.
Controlled.
Until he was right beside her.
He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"The kind where you don't ask questions about things that can get you hurt."
A chill ran down her spine.
But this time... she didn't look away.
"I heard the name," she said again, her voice softer but steady. "Who is she?"
For a moment, Zayn just stared at her.
Then-
His expression changed.
Not completely.
But enough.
Something darker surfaced in his eyes.
Something... personal.
"Someone you should never mention again," he said quietly.
Ayla's breath caught.
That wasn't just anger.
That was something else.
Something deeper.
"Was she important to you?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Zayn's hand suddenly gripped the back of her chair.
Hard.
The sudden movement made her flinch.
"I warned you," he said, his voice dangerously low.
Ayla's heart pounded, but she didn't back down.
"Was she your lover?" she whispered.
Silence.
Then-
Zayn straightened.
His face went completely cold.
"You're crossing a line," he said.
Ayla swallowed hard.
But something inside her refused to stop.
"Or... your wife?" she added.
That did it.
The air in the room shifted instantly.
Zayn grabbed her wrist, pulling her up from the chair.
The sudden movement made her lose balance, her breath catching as she collided lightly against him.
"Careful," he said softly.
Too softly.
"That curiosity of yours..." his grip tightened slightly, "it's dangerous."
Ayla's heart raced.
But then-
She noticed something.
His eyes.
For a brief second...
They weren't just cold.
They were... haunted.
And that scared her more than anything else.
"Her name," Zayn said slowly, his voice almost a whisper, "is something you will forget."
Ayla stared at him.
But now she was sure of one thing.
Whoever that woman was...
She mattered.
A lot.
Later that day, Ayla walked through the long hallway, her mind still stuck on that conversation.
That name.
That reaction.
It didn't make sense.
Zayn wasn't the kind of man to react emotionally.
So why did he?
As she turned the corner, she suddenly heard voices.
"...he hasn't been the same since her death."
Ayla froze.
Her heart stopped.
Death?
"...if she finds out the truth, it will ruin everything."
Ayla's breath hitched.
Find out what truth?
"...Mr. Varez will never let that happen."
The voices faded as footsteps approached.
Ayla quickly stepped back, hiding behind the wall, her heart racing wildly.
Her mind was spinning.
Death.
Truth.
Secrets.
What exactly had she walked into?
And more importantly-
Who was the woman that could make a man like Zayn Varez... break?
Ayla slowly closed her eyes.
For the first time since signing that contract...
She realized something terrifying.
She wasn't just trapped in his world.
She was trapped in his past.