Restless, she picked up her phone and flipped through the news.The usual stuff: politicians bickering, another CEO doing cartwheels over quarterly earnings, and then—
Her breath caught.
There it was, buried in the local news section.A headline.A photo.
Azlyn bolted upright, staring at the image of one of her former research assistants—Lucy.
The caption under the photo made her blood run cold.
Lucy had died in a hiking accident.
Hiking?
Azlyn’s mind rejected the possibility outright.Lucy hadneverexpressed interest in hiking.Not once.In fact, she'd gone on a whole rant about hating the outdoors—bugs, snakes, unpredictable weather.She loathed humidity but adored a winter storm, because it gave her a reason to curl up in front of the fireplace with a book and a cup of coffee the size of her face.
So what was she doing at the bottom of a treacherous trail?
According to the article, Lucy had gone hiking alone.They said she’d slipped, hit her head on a rock, and that was it.
Azlyn stood up so fast her chair scraped across the marble.Her fists clenched.First Olivia, now Lucy.And someone had tried to kill her too—twice, if the bullets in that hotel had been meant for her instead of Zayn.
She marched to the apartment’s entrance.Sure enough, two guards stood at attention like statues in thousand-dollar shoes.
“Can one of you watch Griffin?I need to go to the security office.”
They blinked in surprise, clearly not used to their royal charge making demands.One of them recovered quickly and stepped forward.
“I’ll stay with him, Your Highness.”
It took Azlyn a beat to realizeshewas being addressed.Apparently, she was now “Your Highness.”
Great.
Just as pretentious as she’d feared.
She turned to the other guard.“I need a computer with internet access.Can I get that at the security office?”
“Absolutely, Your Highness,” he said with a courteous bow.
She waved a hand.“Skip the titles.Let’s go.”
He hesitated.“Should we notify Prince Zayn of the change in your schedule?”
Azlyn paused at that.Technically, she probably should.But practically?
“No,” she said.“He doesn’t care what I do with my time.”
Privately, she figured he’d assume she was in bed already.Alone.Just like every night since her arrival.No goodnight kisses.No sleepy cuddles.No accidental brushes of fingers or skin.Nothing.
She suspected that was her fault but Azlyn wasn’t sure how to fix things between them.
As she followed the guard down the hall toward the administrative wing, she admitted the truth: she’d created that distance.It had been an act of self-preservation.Touching Zayn didn’t just stir up memories.It made herwant.
And wanting Zayn was dangerous.
Because even now, after everything, she...kind of...maybe...possibly loved him.
Just a smidge.
