Page 108 of His Fury

I read his text twice. It irked me. I wasn’t sure why. Yes, Ididknow why. He just assumed he would come home with me. While that might be what I wanted, he wasn’t allowed to just assume it.

Guess I needed to add Zayn to the list of people I needed to talk to.

Weirdly, I felt better and more in control. There were aspects of my life I knew I wouldn’t be able to control if I stayed with Zayn. I wasn’t a fool; I understood that. I was aware his life was dangerous, and I knew what I was walking into by choosing to be with him, but I still needed to bemyself.

I tapped out a message to him.

We’ll talk about it later

I received a thumbs-up emoji. My dad texted using emojis. He was in his sixties. Apart from the laughing emoji he sent me that time I was having dinner with Julian, Zayn didn’t use emojis; he didn’t seem like the type to be an emoji person. In fact, now that I thought about it, I bet he was precisely the kind of person who used emojis. It would drive Rye insane. I could already envision the dramatic eye roll from the blond giant at receiving a thumbs-up. It made me smile.

Maybe I needed to text Rye more…

The door to my office creaked open, revealing a familiar face. Pete appeared panicked, and I suppressed a sigh.

“Yurts?” I asked as I stood.

“Isla…you need to rein him in. Again.”

Yup. Just another day at the office. I grabbed my phoneand tablet and followed Pete to the conservatory to reason with Gerard before he ruined all our careful planning. Still, I welcomed the feeling of familiarity. I took what felt like my first full breath in days. This was good; this was...normal.

That feeling lasted until I heard a throat clear behind me. I turned and saw someone I didn’t recognize. The man was well-dressed but not overly so; he didn’t stand out too much. He just...stood out. He was watching me intently as guests milled about the foyer, checking in and checking out.

When his eyes met mine, he smiled. It wasn’t friendly or unfriendly, but it was cold. My steps slowed as I watched him approach. His movements were measured and casual, as if we were old acquaintances, but I knew there was nothing casual about this man.

“Ms. Wells?”

I blinked, gripping my phone tighter. “Yes?”

“Big event coming up?” he asked, nodding toward the delivery being unloaded at the front entrance. His voice was smooth, polished, and practiced.

“Can I help you?”

His gaze drifted from mine, taking in the hotel and its activity. It lingered on Pete, who hadn’t noticed that I’d slowed behind him. “No need. Just admiring the work.” He smiled again, this time a bit wider. “I hear you’re very…thorough.”

“Is there an event you need help planning?” I asked him, aware my voice was slightly higher than usual, which would attract attention. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Russ look up from behind the front desk.

Good.

The man noticed as well and chuckled, stepping back with his hands raised in mock surrender. “Just passing through. I wanted to see what was so alluring at The Grand.” He turnedto leave but paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. “Must be a lot to juggle,” he said, his tone light. “Planning events…and other entanglements.”

My stomach dropped.

He gave me one last look over and then walked out the front door.

I stood frozen in the middle of the foyer, my heart pounding and skin prickling with dread. I didn’t know who he was, but I knew exactly what that had been.

A message.

Not to Zayn.

To me.

CHAPTER 26

ISLA

By the timeI made it back to the house, the evening was still warm and pleasant, but the sun was beginning to dip. Zayn’s house—clean lines, reinforced steel, guarded entrances, and all—still looked like a painting from a life that wasn’t mine. And yet…it could be.

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