Chapter 7 Wisphers Beneath silk

CHAPTER SEVEN

Zara's POV

The morning light filtered through the atelier windows, casting golden shapes over the scattered sketches and fabric swatches on Zara's desk. She was supposed to be working on her presentation for the Thornwell Spring Line showcase, but her mind was anywhere but fashion.

Zayne hadn't called. Not since the gala.

She tried to push the thought aside, focusing on the half-finished design pinned to her board. But then came the voice-calm, deep, familiar.

"That curve on the hem-too safe. You can do better."

Zara turned, startled.

Zayne stood by the doorway, hands tucked into his pockets, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept in days, but his presence still rattled her.

"You came all the way here to criticize my stitching?" she said, folding her arms.

He stepped in, tone softer now. "No. I came to see you."

There it was-that disarming honesty that confused her. The man who left the gala in a storm now stood inches away, searching her face like he needed her to remind him who he was.

"I thought..." she began, but faltered. "I thought you were angry."

"I am," he said. "But not at you."

Silence stretched between them.

He walked over to her designs, running his fingers across a fabric she had chosen days ago-deep emerald silk. "This one's bold. I like it."

Zara swallowed. "I designed it with you in mind. Regal. Unreadable."

He paused, eyes meeting hers.

"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?" he asked.

"Because people who wear masks," she said quietly, "eventually forget who they are underneath."

The tension was thick. Too thick.

And yet, the air shifted when Zayne reached into his coat pocket and pulled out something small-a pendant, shaped like a thorn rose. He held it out.

"This belonged to my mother," he said. "I want you to keep it."

Zara's eyes widened. "Zayne-"

"It's not a promise," he said. "It's a warning. You're walking into something bigger than you realize."

She took it gently, unsure what scared her more-the pendant, or the look in his eyes.

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Scene Shift – Zara Alone

Later that night, Zara sat in her small bedroom, pendant in hand. Her thoughts swirled like a storm.

Zayne was holding back.

Lana was hiding something.

And Khalil... Khalil had called her earlier, asking to meet.

Zara stared out the window, eyes scanning the horizon.

"Someone's going to break," she whispered.

"And I need to make sure it's not me."

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