Chapter Thirty-Two

Two maids came into the room, holding neatly folded clothes. I looked at them questioningly. “Is there something wrong?”

“It's time for your bath.” They simply said.

As I got out of my gown, I wondered at their use of vocabulary. Prisoner's room, Zayn had said. But this room didn't bear any resemblance to a prisoner's room.

If there was anything, my pathetic condo was more a prisoner's room, compared to this beautiful and expensive looking room. When I'd looked into the walk-in closet out of curiosity, my eyes had gone wide in shock.

Just how rich was Al-Zayn?

During breakfast, Zayn had an odd look on his face. For whatever reason, he had a guard bring me over to have breakfast with him. And boy, was I intimidated.

I barely ate, as I picked at my plate. “You should know about me, since you're my fake bride to be.” He suddenly said, after a thousand minutes of uncomfortable silence.

I raised my head abruptly, and slowly brought it down. “There's nothing I want to know.” I muttered.

“Th