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❝He took one look at her and he knew she was the perfect kind of trouble: a good girl who knew exactly when to be bad.❞
Zayn Malik. Ruthless leader of one of the largest mafia organizations within Nevada. Who also owns the most popu...
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🥀 E V E R L Y
Private plane. Champagne. Bodyguards. A gift-wrapped dress. A woman hired to do my makeup and another to do my hair. The most extravagant breakfast I've ever eaten.
This is what it's like being part of Zayn's entourage. He's been ever so charming, as he always is, as well as the epitome of a gentleman. He always ensured I'm taken care of, that I never have to open nor close my own door, and that I am always given first dibs.
Not to mention he never entered the room first, because, "Your beauty is something that will steal the attention of everyone in any given room."
His words.
I have to say, working alongside Zayn isn't as bad as I worried it'd be. I'm not entirely sure why he's being so kind to me, I just hope that he's not caught onto the fact that I'm keeping a secret from him.
The worry does sit in the confines of my mind like those old algebra lessons that I had to learn and have never needed. It lingers in moments when I feel myself slipping into a comfortable state, when I'm most likely to slip up.
But that's what happens when you spend enough time with people. You grow closer and you ultimately let those barriers down that you've purposely stone-walled in place to keep secrets hidden.
I say this as if I've known Zayn for years—when in reality I've only been alongside him for a few days—but I was instantly attracted to him. That crush has only spun myself into a more elaborate web where I'm enjoying the attention he's giving to me more than I should. But what girl wouldn't want to be a little bit spoiled by a deliciously dressed man of power in a suit whose jawline is so sharp it could have cut the diamonds that are the centrepiece of each piece of jewelry he owns?
Not to mention the diamonds that currently dangle from my earlobes.
When Zayn and myself arrived in Paris, France, we were immediately whisked away in an extravagant SUV by a kind chauffeur and two bodyguards. When we pulled up to an old building that appeared to be a rentable apartment for our stay, I knew that Zayn had spent a pretty penny on this entire vacation.
I'd later learn that it cost well over sixty thousand American dollars for our stay, but that's irrelevant now.
The apartment he rented for us was something else of luxury that I've never experienced, even as a woman who grew up in a rich household. The inside isn't old and antique as I'd expected it to be, but rather it's modern and filled with a white marble. The floors, the countertops, and the bathrooms were all filled with a gorgeous—and clearly expensive—marble. The kitchen has clean, modern lines and plenty of cupboard space. It even has an industrial sized fridge, as if anyone actually needs that much space for the small amount of food they'd have in a vacation fridge across international waters.
