Nathaira's plans had finally begun to crumble.
Zayan and Nora worked in quiet coordination, turning every scheme Nathaira tried back against her. The snakes she sent slithering in the dark to spy or sabotage—both literal and metaphorical—were exposed, dealt with, or devoured by their own venom. Her final blow, an attempt to poison Nora during the evening tea, had failed miserably. It only served to make Zayan more protective, more alert.
A week later, Zayan left the mansion for a business trip in Paris.
The mansion felt eerily empty without him. Nora roamed its halls like a ghost, her thoughts tangled in memories she wasn't ready to admit meant something. She often found herself sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at nothing, whispering questions only silence answered.
"Do I really want him…?"
She shook her head hard, trying to snap herself out of it.
"No. I'm not a sex toy. I never was. I'm only working."
But the words didn't soothe the strange ache in her chest.
Meanwhile in Paris, Zayan sat in his sleek hotel suite, the lights dimmed low. After his meeting, he poured himself a drink and pulled out his iPad. He hadn't used the security feeds in weeks, but something gnawed at his mind. He was worried. Not just about Nathaira—who now lingered in his bedroom like a predator circling prey—but about Nora.
He tapped into the mansion's cameras. There were none in the other maids' rooms—but Nora's? He had installed four discreetly, long before he'd realized how dangerous things would get.
He watched as she stepped into her room. She moved with quiet exhaustion, unaware of the eyes on her. She peeled off her shirt, revealing the smooth expanse of her back, shadowed by the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
Zayan leaned forward slightly, caught off guard.
"Oh my…" he murmured under his breath, a thought he didn't dare finish.
He wasn't supposed to think of her that way—but the image haunted him.
Hours passed. At 11:34 p.m., the feed showed her curled beneath her blanket, fast asleep. Her face was peaceful for once.
Zayan smiled to himself, a rare softness brushing across his features.
Then he shut the iPad and finally allowed himself to sleep—with her image lingering in the corners of his mind.