Isla

Zayn sat in his office, his fingers absentmindedly drumming on the wooden desk as he stared out the window. The fire in the courtyard below cast a soft glow against the evening sky. The maids were gathered around, tossing Aurora’s dresses into the flames. The delicate fabrics caught fire quickly, and within seconds, they were reduced to ash. His jaw clenched at the sight, but he forced himself to look away.

"Good riddance," he muttered under his breath, but even he didn’t believe it.

Before he could dwell any further on the thought, the door to his study flew open with a loud bang. Zayn’s younger sister, Isla, stormed into the room, her face flushed with anger.

“You coward,” she spat, glaring at him with fierce intensity.

Zayn’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face her. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me!” Isla shot back, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “You’re a coward, Zayn.”

He rose from his chair, his towering frame casting a shadow over her, but