Zayn didn’t smile—not really—but the faint curve at the corner of his mouth was deliberate.Just enough to make her question it.A calculated flicker of reaction, timed and precise.
She noticed.
Her lips, full and soft, pressed together in a subtle act of retreat.But he saw the tension in her shoulders, the awareness tightening through her frame.She hadn’t just noticed his gaze.She had felt it.
Good.
He wanted her to feel watched.
Not to unsettle her—at least, not yet—but to remind her that no matter how still she sat, or how deeply she pretended to focus, she wasn’t alone in that corner of the studio.
She had his attention now.
And he didn’t offer that lightly.
Finally, the producer called out, “Quiet on set!”and everyone went still.Even Azlyn closed her laptop and straightened to her full height, folding her arms over her chest again.That shifted the sweatshirt she was wearing, emphasizing her full, tempting breasts.He couldn’t see the rest of her, but he didn’t mind.What he could see of her was beautiful enough.
For now.
Chapter 3
Azlyn waited impatiently for the interview to start.She wanted to escape, but knew she couldn’t abandon ship now.Primarily because she’d make too much noise.But also because Olivia might need on the fly information, or a follow up question.
The interview questions weren’t difficult.Azlyn could have dug a bit deeper.But they’d only won an interview with the crown prince of Lativa because they’d signed an agreement with his publicity agent to not bring up any controversial topics.Azlyn had several of them in mind anyway though.For instance, when would the older generation, which was currently ruling the Lativa government, step down and allow the sons to take over?Although, she was pretty sure she knew the answer to that one.It was because Sheik Khal was a rock solid, fair, and wise leader.Still, people wanted to know when the transition might happen.Sheik Khal ran the country and his brothers, Prince Joran and Prince Raj, controlled the economy and the military.But there were younger people who were ready to step up and provide other options to the way the world was running.
Of course, no one messed with Lativa.The country’s enemies might grumble or gripe, but they didn’t do more than that.Not with Prince Joran running the defense of the country.He’d built Lativa into a powerhouse in the region as well as the world.And the economy had boomed under Prince Raj’s direction.There had been world-wide economic downturns over the past few decades, but Lativa had weathered every crisis easily.
But now the second generation in the royal family was having babies.Everyone wanted to know if Crown Prince Zayn would soon take control.Would Prince Rafi and Prince Laith begin taking over the challenges of economic growth?Both were brilliant corporate leaders and could easily step in and take over.How much influence did Princess Angela, Zayn’s cousin, have now that she had married into a country that used to have antagonistic feelings towards Lativa?
Oh, if only Azlyn had been able to ask the really difficult questions.
“And…we’re recording in five, four, three…!”The “two” and “one” were silent, the producer using his fingers to announce that the cameras were rolling.
Azlyn mentally added a few more questions to the list—questions that hadn’t made the final cut but still lingered in the back of her mind.
What economic strategies had been implemented to support Lativa’s struggling border towns?Why had Prince Raj raised tariffs on specific imports, and how did that decision fit into the broader regional trade strategy?What were the long-term goals for oil production, and how did Lativa intend to stabilize pricing in volatile markets?Did the royal administration fully grasp the ripple effects their shifts had on international pricing indexes?
The list was growing.
But on set, Olivia was currently teasing “His Highness” about the actress he’d been seen dining with last month.
“So, is she really as funny in person as she is on screen?”
Azlyn narrowed her eyes at the screen.Had he looked at her—just for a second—before answering?
She rolled her eyes, exhaling with quiet impatience.These tabloid-fodder questions were exhausting, but she understood their purpose.They pulled in viewers.Light entertainment softened the tone, earned trust.The deeper questions—the ones that mattered—were woven in carefully, waiting for the right moment.
Still, it was hard to focus when Crown Prince Zayn Al-Sintra was so infuriatingly magnetic.Even she had to admit it.The man was far too composed, too effortlessly charming, for the average viewer to dismiss.
And then—his gaze found her again.
Just as she rolled her eyes.
Azlyn froze, caught mid-expression.His eyes narrowed slightly, not with irritation, but with the focus of someone who noticedeverything.
That wasn’t fair.
She lifted a hand, a small, wordless gesture of acknowledgment.I know.I won’t do it again.
