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As I stirred from my slumber, I became aware of Zyyad's presence beside me, a towering figure radiating strength and warmth. The bed cocooned me in its embrace, and I nestled against his sturdy frame, surrendering to the illusion that I was floating through a dream. The boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred as I reveled in the ethereal sensation that enveloped me.

But then, a deep, resonant voice shattered the delicate veil of my reverie, jolting me back to the realm of wakefulness. It was his voice, unmistakable and commanding. My heart skipped a beat, disbelief coursing through my veins like an electric current. How could this be? Was I truly lying here, in Zyyad's bed, in his sanctuary?

The room seemed to sway, as if caught in the tides of my disoriented thoughts. I questioned my own senses, grappling with the notion that I had crossed into an alternate dimension, where dreams and reality converged. The air hung heavy with anticipation, and I marveled at the vividness of my surroundings, every detail etched in my mind like fragments of a surreal painting.

In that moment, I teetered on the precipice of comprehension, grappling with the surreal nature of my circumstances. It was as if the very fabric of my existence had been woven into a tapestry of enchantment, where boundaries melted away and imagination reigned supreme. The bed beneath me felt like a sanctuary, a portal to a realm where dreams could transcend the limits of reality.

But deep down, a nagging voice whispered, reminding me that dreams were ephemeral, fragile wisps that dissolved with the first rays of dawn. Was this all just an illusion, a fleeting fantasy that would crumble upon waking? I yearned to cling to this surreal moment, desperately hoping it would defy the boundaries of time and space.

A surge of panic engulfed me, causing my heart to race like a wild stallion. My gaze darted around the room, like a trapped bird seeking an escape route, desperately searching for any signs of my own clothing. Anguish and confusion intertwined within me, their grip tightening like thorny vines around my thoughts. With a voice laced with frustration and disbelief, I unleashed a torrent of questions upon Zyyad, demanding answers for the inexplicable situation I found myself in.

The air crackled with tension, each word I uttered carrying the weight of my apprehension. It was as if the walls themselves listened intently, absorbing the echoes of my bewilderment. Shadows danced eerily, casting doubt and suspicion on every surface, magnifying the uncertainty that gripped my trembling heart.

But despite my fervent inquiry, Zyyad's face remained an enigmatic mask, his eyes gleaming with a knowing glint. His silence was like a veil of secrecy, concealing the answers I sought and leaving me adrift in a sea of unanswered questions. It felt as if I had stumbled into a labyrinth, where every corridor led to more confusion and ambiguity.

Zyyad's physique was a testament to raw power and sculpted perfection. His bare torso glistened in the soft glow of the room, each muscle rippling like the waves of an untamed sea. His broad shoulders commanded attention, as if they were the pillars that held the weight of the world. The sinewy contours of his chest and abdomen traced a map of strength and resilience, like a chiseled masterpiece crafted by an ancient sculptor.

As he reclined on the bed, his form exuded an aura of confidence and self-assuredness. The tousled strands of his dark hair framed his face, adding a touch of unruliness to his striking features. The play of light and shadow danced upon his skin, accentuating the defined lines and contours that made him a sight to behold.

With each breath he took, his chest rose and fell rhythmically, a mesmerizing cadence that mirrored the ebb and flow of the world around us. The warmth radiating from his body created an inviting aura, as if the very air within his proximity held a tantalizing promise of comfort and security.

❝𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐑.❞ - a mafia dark romanceWhere stories live. Discover now