DEVIL’s GRIP
Zayden turned sharply, his gaze locking onto Hema as she stepped forward, her expression firm.
His smirk returned, but it was laced with danger. “Oh? And who gave you the right?”
Hema didn’t waver. She walked up to him, standing just inches away from his towering frame. Her eyes, usually hesitant, now burned with defiance.
“I am your wife,” she said, her voice steady. “That gives me the right.”
Zayden’s brows lifted in surprise.
She’s got guts.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. The air between them was thick with tension—neither willing to back down.
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