CHAPTER 60
**WINTER**
I turned to face Zion and noticed he hadn’t moved or reacted at all. As the chaos of people fleeing his house unfolded, with screams and engines roaring, Zion remained frozen, his gaze fixed on me with a mix of anger and disbelief.
I pressed my hand to my ear and asked, “Do you hear that?” I giggled at the sound of silence, feeling a surge of satisfaction. “The sound of silence,” I said, clearly pleased with my handiwork. “Anyway, now that it’s so quiet and peaceful, I’m heading to bed.
Oh, and since some jerk locked my bedroom door and I can’t find the key, I’ll just crash in one of the guest rooms. Don’t stay up too late, Zion. Sweet dreams!” My words were wrapped in mocking sweetness as I tossed them over my shoulder, watching his reaction with a mixture of triumph and defiance.
I sprinted up the stairs, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Zion wasn’t following. My heart pounded in my chest as I reached one of the guest bedrooms, flinging the door open and slipping inside. I slammed it shut behind me and twisted the lock, pressing my back against the door as if that would somehow shield me from what might come next.
I held my breath, listening intently for any sign of pursuit, but the house was eerily quiet. The noise from the party was gone, leaving only the distant hum of the city outside. My pulse gradually slowed as the minutes ticked by, and the silence remained unbroken.
Finally, I moved away from the door and headed for the bed. I slipped under the covers, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the tension I’d been feeling. A smile spread across my face as I settled in. I had finally shown Zion that I wasn’t going to be pushed around and that I could stand up to him.
Whatever he might have planned for retaliation, I knew I’d be ready.
And I knew without a doubt he would retaliate.
This was just the beginning, and I felt a fierce satisfaction at having turned the tables.
..................
*NEXT MORNING...*
Have you ever stumbled downstairs in a foggy haze from too little sleep, only to be met with the sight of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen? That was my reality this morning.
For a moment, I thought I was still dreaming, but when I blinked and the scene didn’t change, I realized it was very real.
The "they" in question were Clark and Ronald.
Zion was nowhere in sight as I stood there, bleary-eyed and with my hair in disarray. Ronald was busy chopping mushrooms and tomatoes for omelettes maybe, while Clark was grating cheese at the massive black marble kitchen island.
Oh, and they were both shirtless.
I’m not usually one to gawk at men’s physiques, but there was no denying the appeal of this view.
Clark’s lean, toned body was just inches away, and Ronald’s golden skin and tattooed arms were a sight to behold as he leaned casually over the island. I hadn’t fully appreciated how attractive these guys were until now.
Wow, just wow.
“Hey, babe,” Clark’s amused voice broke through my daze, “When you’re done eye-fucking us, could you grab the juice from the fridge?” His words jolted me back to reality. I shook my head, trying to refocus on breakfast.
“Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t eye-fucking anyone. I was just…lost in thought.”
“Sure you were,” Clark said with a smirk.
I walked over to the fridge, pulled out a carton of juice, and set it on the kitchen island, momentarily pushing the guys from my mind.
My thoughts shifted to the upcoming workday; I needed a strong dose of caffeine to shake off my drowsiness. As I made my way to the coffee machine, my mind was focused on making a fresh cup.
However, the moment I turned to grab a mug, Zion sauntered into the kitchen.
Oh. My. God.
My hormones must have been on overdrive because my heart raced, and my mouth went dry as I took in Zion's appearance. He was wearing faded, ripped jeans and nothing else, leaving his chiselled physique on full display. Every muscle was defined, and as my gaze travelled up, I was met with his angular jaw, an almost too-perfect nose, and those grey-blue eyes framed by thick, dark lashes.
His hair, tousled and messy as if he had just rolled out of bed, added to his undeniable allure. He was stunning beyond belief. Even though I'd seen him naked, I couldn’t help but be captivated by how striking he looked.
Zion’s face flushed with anger when he saw me standing by the coffee machine.
“What the fuck? Why are you still in that flimsy nightshirt, and where’s your shawl?” His voice was edged with irritation as Clark shifted around the island, clearly trying to distance himself from me.
What was his problem?
“Go and change now!” Zion ordered, stepping in front of me.
I crossed my arms over my chest and met his glare. “My room is locked—the one you locked, remember? My clothes are in there, so excuse me if I didn’t dress up for His Highness’s breakfast time.”
“You look… you look..ridiculous!” Zion snapped, his frustration evident in his furrowed brows.
Wow, Zion seemed completely out of his depth this morning if he couldn’t come up with a better insult.
“I could take it off if you’d like,” I said, raising an eyebrow and placing my hands on the hem of my plain cotton night shirt.
“My underwear is clean, I promise,”
I lied, though there was no way I was stripping down to my underwear in front of three hot guys.
“Fuck! No! Keep it on,” Zion barked. “We don’t need anyone getting put off their breakfast before they’ve even started.”
It was crystal clear—he really couldn’t stand me.
“I wouldn’t mind a little strip show… right, Ro?” Clark said with a smirk, and Ronald nodded in agreement.
“Why not? What better way to kick off the day than seeing a hot chick almost naked?” Ronald chimed in.
“Take it off… take it off…” Clark began tapping the table rhythmically.
“SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!” Zion bellowed, cutting him off. The look he gave could have killed.
“Oh, stop it, boys, and listen to him. We wouldn’t want to upset King Zion, would we?”
“King Zion, huh?” Zion stepped closer, his voice dropping to a harsh, menacing rasp.
“If I’m the king, then get on your knees and worship me.” The intensity of his dark gaze made a shiver run through me, but I fought back, channelling the rising anger to smother any lingering desire.
“In your dreams,” I retorted, forcing the words through gritted teeth.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
