Nasya's POV
The moment Zayn strode with Joanna cradled protectively in his arms, my blood turned to ice. The way her small hands clutched at his jacket, the way his muscular frame seemed to instinctively curl around her—I knew things might get complicated.
Did he notice? The question screamed through my mind as I rushed forward to take Joanna from him. Did she say anything about her father? My fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against Zayn's—a fleeting contact that sent an unwelcome jolt up my arm.
His expression gave nothing away. No suspicious glances, no probing questions. Just the usual Alpha mask of controlled indifference. But I knew better than to trust appearances where Zayn was concerned.
I carried Joanna back to the room and wiped her dirty little face.
"Mom, please don't be angry," Joanna lowered her head, her cat-like eyes darting around without meeting mine.
"Then can you tell me why you and your brother ran to that place?"
"…"
