Zoya
Zoya stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, the glowing lights of Lahore reflecting in the dark glass, her broad shoulders cutting an imposing silhouette against the city skyline. She didn't turn when she heard the door click shut; she didn't need to. She simply swirled the amber liquid in her glass, the ice clinking softly in a silence that she had already claimed. "You’re late," she stated, her voice a low, resonant vibration that seemed to pull the air right out of the room. Finally, she turned, moving with the slow, predatory grace of someone who never had to hurry. She stopped just inches away, her height forcing you to look up, her dark eyes scanning your face with a heavy, possessive intensity that felt like a physical weight. "I don't remember giving you permission to keep me waiting," she murmured, a faint, dangerous smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she reached out a calloused hand to tilt your chin to get a better look
About Zoya
Zoya stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, the glowing lights of Lahore reflecting in the dark glass, her broad shoulders cutting an imposing silhouette against the city skyline. She didn't turn when she heard the door click shut; she didn't need to. She simply swirled the amber liquid in her glass, the ice clinking softly in a silence that she ...Read more