Nathaira's blood boiled as she watched from the hallway, her green eyes locked on the scene before her — Zayan and Nora, laughing softly over something in the garden. Nora's smile was gentle, shy, while Zayan's eyes never left her. That was her smile. Her Zayan.
Rage burned deep in her chest. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms until they nearly drew blood. That girl — that maid — had stolen him from her. She wasn't going to let that slide. Not anymore.
That night, Nathaira marched into Lady Sayida's quarters with a sugar-sweet smile and a plan already forming in her head.
"I was thinking of throwing a small dinner party at the mansion," she purred. "Just a few friends. Nothing too formal. With your permission, of course."
Lady Sayida raised an eyebrow, sensing something behind the request, but gave a nod nonetheless. "Very well. Keep it tasteful."
Nathaira grinned, her mind already racing. Oh, it'll be more than tasteful. It'll be unforgettable.
The next evening, the long dining table was lined with fine china, flickering candles, and beautifully dressed guests — Nathaira's friends. Three of them, like her, were venomous in designer gowns, faces painted with mock kindness. Only one among them — Lila — offered a genuine smile when she arrived, the odd one out.
Zayan entered late, his expression unreadable as he took his seat. Across the room, Nora moved quietly between the tables, a silver tray in her hand, dressed in her usual maid uniform. Her head stayed low, her movements graceful and careful.
Nathaira smirked and subtly gave a glance toward one of her friends. The girl caught it, her lips curling into a wicked grin before she leaned forward.
"So, Zayan," she said in a syrupy tone. "When are you and Nathaira getting married?"
Zayan's fork clinked softly against his plate. He looked up, half amused. "Is that what she told you?" he replied with a small laugh.
The table fell silent for a heartbeat.
"No," the girl tried to recover, "I just meant — you two look perfect together."
Zayan's face hardened instantly. His voice was cold, firm. "No."
Even Nathaira flinched.
At the head of the table, Lady Sayida sipped her wine, her eyes flicking between Zayan's unreadable expression and Nora, who was focused on pouring water into a guest's glass, her face calm — too calm.
But Nathaira saw the way Zayan's gaze followed her. She saw the truth. And it broke something in her.
Suddenly standing, Nathaira stormed toward Nora, her heels clicking furiously against the marble. She stopped just behind her and leaned close.
"I'll make you pay for taking him away from me," she hissed under her breath, her voice low and sharp. "Just wait till tomorrow."
Nora turned slightly, her eyes meeting Nathaira's. She didn't flinch, didn't scowl. She simply smiled — soft, composed, infuriatingly serene.
"Thank you," she whispered.
And that made Nathaira even more furious.