⋅ ⋅ ❦ Blaire Rose ❦ ⋅ ⋅ “Good morning,” Nolan forced out through a locked jaw, the words tasting bitter in his mouth as he chewed the inside of his cheek “Good morning who?” Zayn challenged, his deep voice carrying a sharp, dangerous edge. He leaned back in his chair, staring his son down. “Where is the proper address, Nolan? I believe I told you to address your mother.” Nolan’s face flushed a humiliated crimson. Seeing his ruin, I gently placed my hand on Zayn’s forearm, offering a small, grounding squeeze. “Zayn, that’s enough,” I murmured softly, to ease the tension. I turned my gaze to the broken heir. “Good morning, Nolan.” Nolan didn't say another word. He abruptly turned and stormed out of the dining room, his heavy footsteps echoing with barely contained anger Zayn turned his attention back to me, the harsh lines of his face softening instantly. “What do you want us to do today, sweetheart?” he asked. A wicked, playful memory of the private lounge flashed through my
Last Updated : 2026-06-04 Read more