Deadly Secrets

Chapter 53: The End

"Are you nervous?" Max asked as the pair strolled up the trail, hand in hand. Zara, who's focus until then had been on the ground before her—she nearly sprained her ankle stepping out of the limousine—hadn't realised that she held his hand in a death-grip. She loosened her grasp and smiled sheepishly at him.

"Just a little..." Her focus shifted to his rugged appearance, and she inadvertently stopped him in his tracks, tugging at his hand, "Hold up." She said, and began fixing his collar. When satisfied, she reached up to straighten his hair. Zara was unable to explain to herself why she was doing it; her hands had a mind of their own. Somehow, it felt right.

Max watched her in silence, a smirk on his face. After her hands floated away, he tossed his head, then pushed the loose tendrils numerous times behind his ears. "Better now, doll?" Hands on hips, gaze lost in the distance, Max looked like a superhero that forgot their costume.

Zara giggled, looping her arm through his. "Much better."

He didn't look like he got mauled by a bear anymore.

The two kept walking, each lost in their own thoughts. As soon as they reached the front door, it slowly opened, as if it had sensed their arrival. That notion dissipated, however, when the butler materialised, greeting them with a stoic expression. Unfortunately for Zara, it was the same butler that had the pleasure to first-handily experience her ignorance and crude mannerisms. Hopefully, he didn't recognise her.

"Welcome," the butler said, a strained smile as he dipped his head. She forced herself to maintain eye-contact, even though his face creeped her out, and reflexively shrank away towards Max's side. It was clear that this man rarely smiled, or felt anything other than resentment.

"Ah, Herman. So glad you have tonight's shift." Max smiled, placing his hand on Zara's lower back so she could go through. Zara lifted her skirts and slowly stepped in, grateful for a justification to keep her head down. She could feel the man's beady eyes drilling holes in the back of her head.

The only response Max received from the man was a conceited snort, but it didn't seem to bother him in the least. "Happy you feel the same way!" He continued brightly, patting the butler's shoulder.

Zara looked up, and could tell by the slight twitch in the guy's left eye that he absolutely did not feel the same way.

"Follow me," he said instead, dipping his head towards Zara exclusively before swivelling on his heel and marching away. She immediately began tailing him, apprehensive of what could happen if she didn't. On the news, or maybe in a magazine, she had learned that some people had their domestics taught martial arts, in the case of emergencies. As she took in the butler's overall appearance and demeanour, she couldn't rule out that possibility.

The last thing she wanted to do was fight him.

He directed them into a room, the cloakroom, to be exact. A singular rack that extended down the length of a wall held the coats of all the guests. It looked tightly packed as if the addition of only one extra coat could cause the entire contraption to explode.

A small dinner, he said. Only the inner circle, he said. Well, there are a hell of a lot of people.

They abandoned their respective garments by dumping them in the butler's waiting arms, then made their way towards the back of the house, where Zara assumed the dinner would be held.

"Don't you think it's a little weird that you're acting so formal in your own house?" She brought her clutch to her chest, acutely aware of her heart thumping against her ribcage. As they neared the cacophony of voices, she became increasingly anxious. She prepared to make a good impression.