The silence in the room was thick, charged with tension. Zayan stepped inside, the door clicking softly shut behind him. Nora stood with her head down, hands clasped in front of her, not daring to look up.
He didn't waste time.
"Did you put the snake in her purse?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.
Nora nodded slowly, her head still bowed.
Zayan stepped closer, stopping just inches from her. He leaned in, his voice low and steady. "Why?"
There was a pause.
Then, Nora lifted her head just slightly, her eyes fixed on the floor. "Because she did the same thing to me," she said quietly. "She poured coffee on my dress during breakfast last week. Slipped glass in my shoes the week before that. She thinks I'm weak, that I don't fight back. So I returned the favor."
Her voice held no malice, only tired defiance. "I didn't want to start anything. But I also won't let her keep walking over me."
Zayan studied her for a long moment, then gently patted her head. "It's fine," he murmured. "Just… be careful, okay?"
Nora blinked, confused by the softness in his voice.
"I'm heading to Paris," he continued. "Work meetings. I'll be gone for two weeks."
He moved closer, slid his arms around her waist, and pulled her in. His kiss came slow and deep, unhurried — like a promise held on the edge of something more. When he pulled back, his hands lingered on her face.
"When you're ready," he said, his voice husky, "I'll be here, darling."
Then he was gone, leaving behind the echo of his touch and the weight of something Nora couldn't yet name.