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“But why are you all in such a hurry?” a woman’s voice asks.

I glance over my shoulder to see who approaches our table, but beside me, Zayn goes rigid.

His entire body tenses, every trace of relaxation disappearing as though he’s instantly on alert.

“Guys. Sierra…” the woman greets them with a practiced smile. “And you must be Thalia, Ethan’s wife.” She turns to her.

Thalia doesn’t answer. She only nods, studying the woman carefully.

“And you…” Another pause.

The woman moves closer to my chair, looking down at me. “I haven’t heard anything about you,” she says with a grin that instantly puts me on edge.

I’m not sure whether she expects me to answer, but apparently not, because her attention quickly shifts to my boyfriend.

“Zayn,” she purrs his name, “aren’t you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

I already figured she knew the guys—and Sierra too. But the way she looks at Zayn, the way his name rolls off her tongue, makes something sharp twist uncomfortably inside me.

He turns to her abruptly, shooting her a warning look.

But she seems entertained by the tension. If anything, his reaction only makes her smile grow more mischievous.

“When we talked earlier, you never mentioned you came with someone. And you had plenty of time to do it, considering how long our…” She pauses deliberately, her eyes flicking to me. “…conversation lasted.”

Then she leans closer to me.

“Lorelay Rodrigues,” she says, extending her hand.

So that’s why Zayn disappeared for so long.

Because he was with her.

But where were they talking that I never saw them anywhere in the ballroom? And what could they possibly have discussed for that long?

“Unfortunately, we really do have to leave,” Theo announces as he rises from his seat.

The others stand as well, and Zayn follows immediately, reaching for my hand and pulling me beside him.

“Have a lovely evening,” Sierra tells Lorelay politely, starting for the exit.

I’m only one step away from her when she leans closer and says softly, “It was nice meeting you, Selene.”

I stop.

The fact that she knows my name, even though I never introduced myself, should be shocking enough.

But it isn’t what makes my stomach drop.

It’s her perfume.

The exact same scent I caught on Zayn earlier.

The same scent that lingered on him when he returned after disappearing for more than half an hour.

And suddenly, the uneasy feeling that has been gnawing at me all evening no longer feels like paranoia.

It feels like a warning.