ZIVEN

She fuckin lied.

The name Eva Taylor didn’t exist. Not in my system. Not in any government record, medical file, school, or social ID database — and I’d searched all of them the second I noticed she'd slept off.

And that didn’t happen by accident.

Why would she lie?

I sat back, watching her from the corner of my eye as she slept on my couch, totally unaware of who I am and the records I possessed.

Archer and my brothers, are the only ones that knew I lived here and why I moved here. I don't fucking let anyone into my house.

I could've sworn pity was the reason I let her in, but that word didn't exist in the dictionary of a Maddox. And she looked anything but pitiable, damn she looked too proud for a beggar.

Was it her beauty?

Okay, she was beautiful in that dangerous way — the kind that made men reckless, or worse, curious. Storm-grey eyes, long dark hair and lashes that fanned across her cheeks, jaw tight even in sleep. Her wet hair was now starting to curl at the ends as it dried against my pillow. She looked peaceful, almost… young. But she ain't even close to my type of girl.

Did I just say peaceful? That was bullshit. No one peaceful shows up soaked in the middle of a storm, looking like they’d run through hell.

“Running from an arranged marriage,” she’d said.

Another half-truth. I could tell. It was in the way her fingers twitched when she spoke, the way her throat moved when she swallowed, like her words were a rope she was afraid to tug too hard.

She didn’t trust me — smart girl. I didn’t trust her either.

But something about her made it hard to look away.

I rubbed the back of my neck and went back to my screen. I had video surveillance stationed over the area, it was easy to track whatever shit I needed. I Pulled up the traffic cam feeds within a ten-mile radius. If she was telling the truth about a car, it should’ve shown up.

It did. A black Mercedes had pulled off the road near the forest line at 3:12 a.m.

I zoomed in. The license plate was smeared with mud, but I ran it anyway. It was registered under Hollis Inc.

Hollis.

Haven't heard of the name before. In our world, it was a good thing. Because, knowing a family name, meant two things— To repay kindness or to Inflict cruel pain till death.

Although recently, it's been the latter— People need to learn how to stop poke nosing.

I looked up the name, Hollis.

A family company ran by a couple — Salvatore Hollis and Marilyn Hollis. I glanced at the girl on my couch and then at my screen, there was not a thing related to her.

She fucking stole the car?

I continued to scroll down, until finally, a topic line caught my attention.

JUST IN: ZAYLA HOLLIS AND LUGARD BLADE HAD FINALLY DECIDED TO TAKE THEIR RELATIONSHIP TO THE NEXT LEVEL BY GETTING MARRIED TO EACH OTHER, AFTER THREE YEARS OF DATING.

No way! Lugard Blade??

I clicked on the link under the headline, and couldn't stop the anger that crawled up my chest, upon seeing the photos attached.

So... Zayla Everly Hollis.

That's who she really was. A lover and fiancé to Lugard Blade. That Bastard?!

Is this some sick, fucking game?

Damn.

I looked over at her again, and frowned.

She hadn’t just shown up at my door, that Bastard sent her? She was working with him?

For what reason? To fuck with me? Who the hell said I fuck every bitch?

If I was that easy, I would've been dead a long time ago.

She's got some nerve, I must say. Deceit and lies to a Maddox and she laid nonchalantly on my damn couch, sleeping. What? She thought I wouldn't find out?

What a Joke?

Now, I had one choice, kick her out and pretend none of this happened… or hold her captive, punish her, and get her to spill the damn reasons she's here.

The second choice sounded fun. Been a while since I had fun, especially girls, dumb enough to cross me.

My brothers would love it too.

But, I had one question that's still unanswered.

How the hell did Lugard find my address?

Anger burned through my chest as I seized her up, wondering the best punishment to wake her stupid brain up. I wanted nothing but to put a bullet through her skull and then pay Lugard a surprise visit.

But they were all a fast death. I loved my kill, slow and properly done.

I hated how she looked asleep on my pillow. Like she belonged there. Fuck no.

A smile carved my lips, and I returned to my screen. The car might have broken down, or she did it purposely, because the GPS tracker was very much working.

I disabled it. Don't ask me how I did that.

I picked up my cell phone and called one of Archer's men. He's into automobiles, he can gut and rebuild a car with his eyes closed. Lucky him, he's got a new baby.

Next on my call list was my brothers.

If she’s playing me… fine. But if she’s not—if Lugard threw her away—I’ll be the last man she ever trusts.

We'd have a little fun before we pay the bastard, a visit. It's obvious he doesn't care about her. A man who loved his toy would protect her from us, not throw her at us.

I dialed Zane's number.

“Yo,” he answered after one ring.

“I’ve got a situation. Something... interesting. You and Zarek need to get here.”

He chuckled. “You never call unless it bleeds.”

“She will,” I said.

“Damn. Who pissed you off?”

I glanced at the girl curled on my couch.

“An angel sent by a bastard. And guess what? She came with a fucking wing.”

“Keep her alive till we get there. You always ruin the best toys, Ziven.”

"No, Zarek does that."

"Right. We’re on our way.”

I hung up, slipped the phone in my pocket, and cracked my knuckles.

Soon, she'd realize exactly what kind of monster she'd knocked on last night.