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ZAIA. A week has passed, and I feel… empty. The moment Atticus mentioned it, there were so many emotions that I was left to deal with. Anger, betrayal, regret, pain, guilt and sadness. My emotions became an ocean I was drowning in, struggling to stay afloat… but I let go, allowing the emotions t
I hate to admit it, but I barely trust anyone. “You should rest, and head to the safe house. Valerie has made a yummy strew. I have some work to attend to.” I say, kissing his cheek. “You’re treating me as if I’m old.” He says. I smile and shake my head. “No, just that you need to take care of y
“Afternoon Ms Toussaint.” “Afternoon Mr Payne,” I reply as I sit back. “I like it when you call me that.” He says, sauntering over to my desk as the door slowly thuds shut behind him. “Keep at that and people will think we are together.” “That’s not a bad thing.” He winks at me. I shake my head
ZAIA. I lean back in my office seat, moving my chair slightly from side to side as I stare at the ceiling. Atticus is working on the file. We both were certain there must be a clue in it, and he thinks Sebastian somehow sent it. As much as the thought of him stings, if he is there for Sia, then ma
The poison… “Poison. Who did you deliver the poison to?” I snarl. “I don’t know their name, believe me! My duty was to deliver it, that’s it!” He says, he's shaking now, but I do believe him. He cannot lie under the alpha command. “Poison that you knew would harm me and my unborn pups. You knew t
ZAIA. Silence. One that is an answer louder than any word could possibly be. I stand up and he looks up at me, pale. “I said nothing,” He says, his heart thumping. “I said nothing!” “Your silence was enough,” I say quietly as I walk around my desk and open my drawer. I take out my gun, seeing
Was it because she knew I’d choose the sublime? I don’t know… Setting my phone on record, I slip it back into my pocket, making sure not to cover the speakers. I enter the gates of the King's mansion; the guards allowing me through, and I walk to the front door. I ring the bell, feeling my stomach
ZAIA. She’s not expecting me to say that. All colour drains from her face and her heart thumps harder as she looks at me and our eyes meet before she looks away, trying to compose herself, but it’s futile. “Z-Zaia! Sit down dear, you are just confused-” “I’m not Agatha. I’m not. I know the truth,