The Devil's Rival Fetish
She swallowed hard.
“And… what if I don’t cooperate?” Her voice trembled now, barely audible.
Zayn leaned in with a smirk, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Lady, oh my lady,” he murmured, his tone coated in mock reverence.
He sat on the bed now, face-to-face with her. His stare was intense, unblinking. It forced her to hold her ground—even if her spine had stiffened like steel, trying not to flinch.
“My intentions toward you are not evil,” he said. “But my plan is. In this world, you’ll find people whose goals match mine. Maybe even go beyond… but in the worst ways.”
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