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What is he planning?
“It used to be Zayn,” he confesses. It’s amazing how soft-spoken his voice is now. I can barely catch the words with strained ears, but I don’t comment on it. I only listen.“Some days, I can’t remember when my life went upside down. Some say six. Others say eight, so maybe I don’t gain as much pity in the eyes of old geezer men who never had to watch their family be killed before their eyes.”
Shit…
“One night, you’re tucked in bed, excited to rest your tired eyes and wake up to the next two days dedicated to you and your family. No studies. Tutors. Various professors from prestigious institutes drilling you with knowledge. You can just be a kid and forget that expectations await you Monday morning.” His gaze seems so far as if the past is replaying upon the horizon. “The next, you’re alone in the world. The heir to a throne. An empire so massive and deadly left to a boy who knows nothing about how lethal the outside world is.”
He lifts the mask in his free hand, admiring it as if it’s a shield that can protect him from anything coming his way.
“I learned rather quickly that those who smiled and were previously loyal to our empire were fakes. Many I thought were reliable friends, workers, and business acquaintances of our family were all weak, pitiful bastards who’d simply sucked up to remain on my family’s good terms.” He chuckles at his own revelation, and I shiver from the way his eyes darken like a void. “Sitting in that dining hall, surrounded by all those servants who’d do anything to serve the Leightons, was all but a reminder. Obedient nods and submissive tendencies. All for a fucking paycheck. Not one person in that room who served Mr. Leighton or even gave Dom respect is loyal. If that man was killed tonight, they would be selling his darkest secrets to the world before the sunrise.”
“Are you implying…” I don’t want to finish my sentence. I have a strong assurance that I’m right, and yet my ears crave to hear the confirmation from the source before me.
“Warren is more loyal to you than any of the individuals who served my family for decades.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “By the end of those forty-eight hours, I was alone, surrounded by cunning adults who wanted nothing but to destroy me. It’s a shame, really, but then again, I wouldn’t have stripped out of my childish clothes and become the man that leaves them trembling when I walk into a room.”
I see it then.
In the depths of his eyes.
The sinister beauty of a man who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the world down if it made him a victor.
“How beautiful,” I comment breathlessly. It’s enough to draw those alluring eyes my way, and he inspects me closely.
“You’re moved by the idea of me becoming a savage lunatic?” he offers, gripping my chin once more. Only this time, his thumb doesn’t hesitate to trail along my bottom lip, encouraging me to further open my mouth to him.
“I don’t like the suffering you had to endure to become the Ruthless King before me, no,” I emphasize because it’s the truth. No one deserves to live through agonizing pain and heartache.Especially all alone, with no one to turn to.“But… seeing that sinister glint of merciless resolve did turn me on just a little.”
He presses his lips together, but I hear the low vibration of a growl that thrums against his chest. I can’t tell if I’ve angered him with my honesty, but it’s briefly dismissed by the way his lips suddenly claim mine possessively.
Whether this moment is deemed the Zayn of the past or Zander of the present, I can’t stop my body from reacting to the intense movement of his tender lips. He not only kisses me likeI’m some cherished possession, but his hands have me pressed against him in a hot minute.
There’s not a hint of uncertainty in every passionate touch, leaving me in this blissful moment feeling free instead of the rigid cage that will keep me captive for submitting so easily.
I don’t realize how cold it is until our lips part, and I’m fighting to catch my breath, each puff creating a cloud of frigid air between us. He notices it as well, his eyes briefly looking down my body, though his eyes linger on my breasts.
I’m sure my nipples are on clear display despite the silky red fabric.
“You really are crazier than any woman who’s survived being in the same proximity as me,” he admits as his gaze finally returns to my own.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“For most, yes.”
“And for you?”
His grin is effortless while his hand runs through my long, silky locks
“A blessing in disguise, if you ask me.” He lifts the mask once more, putting it back onto his face. “Doesn’t mean you’re getting away from initiation.”
It’s my turn to smirk.
“Earlier wasn’t enough?” I wonder, though I wish his face was visible so I could decipher his expression. It’s becoming clear that I enjoy reading Zander.
Maybe because it makes me feel special being able to do so.
“That was Domino’s way of punishing you,” he notes.
The absent view of his expression doesn’t mean I don’t hear the annoyance in his mechanical voice. Having heard him speak with it during our walk down here, I can pick up hints of emotion by the frequency, pitch, and tone his mechanical voice creates.
