The kitchen was quiet, the scent of soap and old spices hanging in the air. The other maids had already left for the night, but Nora stayed behind, wiping down the last counter with tired hands. The silence comforted her—until a deep voice shattered it.
"Hey."
She jumped, spinning around. Zayan was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with those intense, black eyes. His tattoos peeked out from under the sleeves of his dark shirt, swirling down his arms like smoke.
Her heart pounded. "You scared me," she mumbled, eyes darting away from his.
She quickly finished the last of her cleaning, hoping to slip past him without incident. But as she tried to walk by, he stepped in her way.
He leaned in, eyes locked on her face. "Why am I so drawn to you?" he said, voice low and rough. "Why are you this fucking gorgeous, huh?"
Nora refused to meet his gaze. His nearness made her skin burn with nervousness, and the scent of him—spice, smoke, danger—wrapped around her like a cage. She pushed against his chest, desperate to break the moment.
Zayan's jaw clenched. His hand curled into a tight fist at his side, but he didn't touch her. He just stared.
"Nora," he said again, softer this time.
She froze.
He stepped closer—too close—and leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of her right ear.
"On the night of your birthday," he whispered, "you will be mine. Forever."
Her breath caught. Her eyes widened, but before she could say a word, he was gone.
Nora stood there for a second, stunned, then turned and ran. She didn't stop until she reached her room. Slamming the door shut, she slid to the floor, her chest heaving.
You will be mine forever.
The words echoed in her head like a curse—or a promise.
"What does he mean?" she whispered, staring blankly at the floor. "His… forever?"