The pull

Two weeks later, Nora and the other maids went about their daily chores. The mansion buzzed with routine—cleaning, dusting, folding linen—while Zayan remained on the other side of the house, dealing with a group of business associates who were getting on his nerves. His temper, already infamous, flared beneath the surface. A loaded gun was tucked behind his back, as always—just in case.

Suddenly, the sharp sound of gunshots echoed through the estate.

Nora froze, a gasp slipping from her lips. Her heart raced.

One of the older maids barely flinched. "It's normal, dear," she said with a soft chuckle. "We hear them all the time. Now come on, let's keep working."

The day passed slowly, and by evening, the house grew quiet. As everyone settled in for the night, Nora slipped outside for some air. Behind the mansion, where the moonlight touched the earth in silver ribbons, she found a quiet spot near the old stone fountain.

Kneeling down, she dipped her hand into the cold water, lying back gently on the grass, her eyes fluttering closed.

Unbeknownst to her, Zayan was already outside, pacing in the shadows. When he caught sight of her, he stopped.

She looked peaceful—too peaceful.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. Something about her calmed the storm inside him.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" he muttered under his breath. His chest tightened.

Why am I so drawn to her?

She's too young. I can't…

I can't fall for her. No…

But no matter how hard he tried to reason with himself, his gaze remained locked on her, and the pull only grew stronger.