Contract Marriage with My Secret Partner in Crime-Chapter 81: Dear Wife

Sophia’s expression was unreadable, as always. Her sleek black coat framed her tall figure perfectly, and her hair, pulled back into a neat bun, left no room for distraction. She looked every bit the polished professional she was known to be, silent and poised like a statue sculpted by years of discipline.

"Try not to stutter next time," she said coolly, her gaze flicking to Zephany with effortless precision. "You’ll look more professional."

Zephany turned a bright shade of red. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. "I-I—"

Sophia’s lips twitched, the tiniest movement. "Kidding."

Pia burst out laughing and pointed at her with the kind of delight usually reserved for a favorite character in a sitcom. "Oh, I like you," she said. "Sharp tongue, deadpan delivery. Perfect. Who are you people anyway? Friends from what department in Varen Enterprises HQ or something?"

Zephany nearly choked on her own breath.

Pia had absolutely no idea who she was talking to. Not a clue in the world.

She had seen Cassius and Sophia beside Zephany during Kendrick’s fight at the Arena. And again, during Zephany’s piano performance. It was easy for her to assume they were just important-looking employees from Varen Enterprises, probably handling some collaboration contract with Air Media.

After all, Cassius and Sophia’s identities weren’t public. No photos of them had ever been released. And those who knew their faces knew better than to say anything.

The silence following Pia’s comment lasted only a beat, but to Zephany, it stretched out like slow-motion film. Her heart pounded in her ears.

Cassius chuckled softly, leaning back with an easy smile. "Something like that."

Sophia simply sat down, not bothering to clarify.

Zephany leaned in and pulled Pia aside, whispering with urgency. "Pia. Please don’t say too much. They’re... higher-ups."

Pia blinked at her. "From where? What department?"

"Just... don’t ask questions, okay?" Zephany whispered, her tone almost pleading.

Pia raised an eyebrow, amused more than anything else. "Fine, fine. But that guy has ’mysterious boss with way too much power’ written all over him."

Zephany groaned inwardly.

As the night went on, drinks were poured and the laughter grew louder. Pia, ever the animated storyteller, was making everyone laugh with a dramatic reenactment of a failed coverage story that involved her chasing a politician into a bakery.

Even Sophia cracked a smile.

Cassius remained composed but offered cryptic, slightly absurd remarks now and then that left everyone confused yet oddly entertained. The kind of man who knew how to drop a one-liner and disappear into his own silence.

Zephany, to her surprise, began to feel a little lighter. The tension that had wrapped around her earlier slowly began to loosen. Maybe it was the warm atmosphere, or maybe the second-hand buzz from everyone else’s drinks. Or maybe it was simply the feeling of being among people who made her forget about the roles she had to play.

She almost forgot she was supposed to be clumsy and weak. Almost.

---

Across the city, Kendrick sat at the kitchen table in their apartment. The dim light above him cast shadows across the clutter of open files, notes, and his laptop screen that glowed with data pulled from The Archive. Schematics, code, surveillance logs.

His fingers tapped the keyboard with quiet precision, yet his eyes were rimmed with fatigue. He hadn’t slept properly in days.

The soft sound of the door opening pulled his attention. He didn’t even have to look to know it was Zephany.

She tiptoed in, cheeks flushed from the cold, her coat still wrapped tightly around her. The energy of the bar clung to her like a faint echo.

"You’re awake?" she whispered.

Kendrick turned, leaning back slightly in his chair. "You smell like alcohol."

Zephany pouted and let her bag drop to the floor. "It was Pia’s fault."

He raised an eyebrow. "You don’t drink."

"I didn’t!" she said, clearly offended. "Everyone else did. I just... sniffed their drinks."

He shook his head, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "Go sleep."

She gave a lazy salute. "Yes, boss."

He watched as she shuffled to her room, disappearing behind the door. For a second, the apartment felt warm. Almost like a home.

---

[160 Days Left to Live]

Kendrick was already awake the next morning, coffee in hand. He stared at the seat across from him, the same seat arrangement his sister Levy used to occupy every morning.

For years, Levy would sit there, annoying him with chatter about dreams, celebrity gossip, or strange philosophical theories she came up with while brushing her teeth.

Now, that seat belonged to Zephany. His supposed wife. Legally, she was.

He grimaced slightly.

Not because he disliked her. Zephany was... tolerable. Awkward, sometimes clumsy, but kind-hearted. And lately, she was surprising him in little ways. She had a fire in her he hadn’t noticed before.

He still couldn’t quite believe she had once been a musical prodigy, idolized by fans around the country.

He heard the door creak and looked up.

Zephany stumbled out of her room, hair a mess, her clothes wrinkled. She blinked, barely awake. "Morning..."

Kendrick stared. "You look like you fought a war in your sleep."

She dragged herself to the table and dropped into the chair across from him. "Felt like it," she muttered. "We celebrated last night. Pia insisted."

He smirked. "That’s rare."

She gave him a half-hearted glare, then reached for a piece of toast. The moment she took a bite, her stomach let out a loud growl.

Kendrick blinked.

Zephany froze mid-bite.

They stared at each other.

Then Kendrick started laughing. A full, real laugh.

Zephany, mortified, shoved the rest of the toast in her mouth. "Shut up," she mumbled.

"You sound like a gremlin," he said, still chuckling.

She scowled at him, but didn’t bother replying. She was too hungry to argue.

After a few moments of silence, he glanced at her. "What’s the plan today?"

"Work. Hopefully Pia doesn’t drag me out for drinks again tonight."

He frowned slightly. "Be careful. You’re not good with alcohol."

She narrowed her eyes. "And how would you know that?"

He smirked. "Because I’ve seen you trip over air while sober. I can only imagine what you’d be like drunk."

Zephany groaned, not denying it. He had a point.

But seriously, it was all Kendrick’s fault. freewebnσvel.cøm

This shameless man.

She couldn’t help but glare at him, remembering the time he had distracted her on purpose, causing her to miss her mark. Though, truth be told, it was an accident—and Kendrick wasn’t entirely at fault.

But still! She gulped at the memory.

Kendrick leaned back in his chair, studying her. She was a puzzle. One minute she was timid and jumpy, the next, she had a spark in her eyes that reminded him of something he couldn’t name.

He had to remind himself that she wasn’t just Zephany, the soft-spoken journalist. She was something else. There was more to her than what she let people see.

Just like him.

She didn’t know he was Obscura.

And he didn’t know she was Eclipse.

They were playing their roles well, both of them standing on the same battlefield, unaware of each other’s masks.

"Well," Kendrick said, standing up, coffee mug in hand. "Try not to embarrass yourself too much today."

Zephany huffed. "No promises."

He walked toward the door, smiling to himself. "See you later, dear wife."

She choked on her coffee.

Kendrick grinned and left the apartment.

Behind him, Zephany wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and muttered, "Unbelievable."

And yet, the corners of her lips curled slightly, against her will.