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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...
A/N: if you thought this was gonna be an "awe!!!! cute!!!!" story then I'm here to remind you, it isn't and you should probably stop reading now if that's what you were looking for. this chapter delves into weirder, kinkier, darker sides of both zayn and everly and shows another side to them that isn't very pretty.
PSA: this is not some happy sappy love story and I don't always condone the choices my characters make. enjoy!
❝Men and women have the innate ability to bring out the poison in one another.❞ — Unknown
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💰 Z A Y N
"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" Everly says as we speed down the highway together.
It was just the two of us, heading for a destination that only I was aware of and to do something that again, only I knew of. I'd decided to keep Everly in the dark about today's events because it wasn't always necessary to share everything.
Plus I only really brought her as a second person in case shit hit the fan. That meant she'd be there to make a phone call, drive me back to my on call nurse, help me dispose of a body—whatever I may need her for.
I could've asked Christopher to come with me, but I had him doing other things today.
"You'll see soon, Babygirl." I respond, noticing the building in the distance. It felt like we'd been driving for hours, the sun setting behind us and the warmth of the desert flushing our skin.
It was hot enough that I had to remove my usual blazer and roll up the sleeves to my dress shirt and even that didn't do much to cool my body temperature. Then again, black dress pants and shoes aren't the best things to wear on hot days.
Everly, however, didn't seem to mind the heat at all. Granted, she was wearing a lilac coloured top that looked like a turtle neck except it was cropped and didn't have sleeves, and a matching skirt that reached mid-calf and had a large cut up the one leg right up to the thigh. So in that sense, it was easier for her to keep cool.
"Am I about to be whacked?" Everly asks, turning to look at me.
"Of course not," I respond. "Why would you even ask that?"
"I don't know," she shrugs. "We're in the middle of the desert, alone, and it's highly probable that you have a gun tucked into the back of your pants and a shovel in the trunk of this very expensive car."
Leaning forward with my one hand on the wheel, I use the other hand to reach into the waistband of my pants, pulling out the pistol that was set against my lower back. I place the weapon in the cup holder, focusing on the road.
