Zavi's manipulation
1075 Words
~Earlier
-Zavi Covillie-
Wallace shoved her into Fraser's room.
From where I stood, I could see Fraser lying on the bed, his eyes dark with desperation. He was waiting.
Vanora was attractive—undeniably so. Even with the niqab covering her, her presence was striking. I could see it in her movements, in the way her concealed body curved in just the right places. Fraser chuckled, his excitement obvious, and I felt the overwhelming urge to walk in there and put a bullet in his skull.
But that would’ve been too easy. And I had other plans.
She was looking for an escape route—I could see it in her eyes. The way she scanned the room, clocking every possible exit, spotting the camera. She knew Fraser’s men were watching.
Wallace took a step forward, but I held up a hand. “Wait,” I said. “Let her figure it out.”
Then she saw the wine.
Clever girl.
She hesitated for a second, then slowly removed her niqab—just as I had instructed her to.
And f**k.
I watched her on the screen, my body reacting instantly. Creamy thighs, high cheekbones, sharp emerald eyes, those small, inviting lips. She had the kind of body that made men lose their minds. A body made to be ruined.
And Fraser was staring at her like she was a goddamn gift.
I grimaced. His wide, greedy eyes pissed me off. He had no right to look at her like that.
Fraser had been a problem for a while. He had too much power, too much influence, and unfortunately, I couldn’t just get rid of him—not without creating bigger issues. He was Damien’s best friend. And Damien? He was not someone I wanted as an enemy.
So I played along.
Vanora made her way to the table, pouring drinks into glasses. Fraser laughed again, his disgusting giggle echoing in the room as she handed him the first glass.
He didn’t hesitate. He swallowed it down immediately. Fool.
She poured him another.
I smirked. She thought she was just getting him drunk enough to escape.
She had no idea she was killing him.
I picked that wine myself. I knew exactly what was in it.
It wasn’t long before Fraser’s body slumped onto the bed like dead weight. Vanora’s lips curled into a small smile. She hurried back into her niqab, fixing it quickly before stepping toward the door.
I held my breath as Fraser’s man walked in.
She waited. She didn’t run. Smart.
The man’s eyes swept over the room before heading toward Fraser. He leaned in, pressing two fingers against his boss’s nose. A pause.
Then, he pressed his fingers to Fraser’s pulse point.
Another pause.
The man's expression shifted. His hand shot to his walkie-talkie.
I dialed Wallace.
“Delete the footage,” I ordered. “And make sure Fraser’s men don’t catch her.”
The camera feed switched.
She was running toward the elevator, breathless, her hand clutching her chest. Her eyes—wild, determined. She was surviving.
The elevator doors slid open, and her expression changed.
Who was there?
For the first time in a long time, I felt uneasy.
Fraser’s second-in-command stepped inside.
Vanora stepped out.
And just like that, she was gone.
I let out a slow breath.
“She’s out,” I murmured. Then, louder, “Bring me one of the girls.”
One of my men bowed and left.
I headed to the rooftop, waiting.
The night air was cool against my skin as I stood near the railing, my thoughts tangled.
Then my phone rang.
“She’s with me, boss,” Wallace reported.
I exhaled, flicking my gaze downward as Wallace’s car pulled into the courtyard.
The other girl was already there, tied to a chair.
Wallace carried Vanora out of the car. She was quiet, tense.
Twenty minutes later, the elevator doors opened.
She was shoved inside.
The moment she saw me, she dropped to her knees.
“Master, please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know I killed him. I just gave him a few drinks—I didn’t realize he couldn’t handle them. I swear, I didn’t mean to—”
I ignored her.
Wallace, however, scoffed. “You could’ve just done your job, b***h. It’s what we told you to do.”
Vanora’s eyes snapped to him, and I knew she was about to snap back.
I shot her a warning glare.
She swallowed her words.
I pulled out my gun.
The tied-up girl whimpered.
Vanora’s breathing turned ragged.
Without hesitation, I fired.
The bullet tore through the girl’s face, blood splattering onto Vanora’s dress.
She screamed.
I tucked my gun back into my waistband.
Vanora stared at me, horrified. “You… you killed her?”
I didn’t answer.
I turned to Wallace. “Take her back to her room. And clean this up.”
He bowed. I walked out.
---
I poured myself a glass of wine and settled onto my couch, my thoughts drifting back to Vanora.
She was mine now.
I could do whatever I wanted with her.
But I didn’t want to force her.
I never needed to force anyone—women begged for my attention, for the chance to warm my bed.
But Vanora?
She was different.
She had pride, a backbone. She’d rather die than be used.
And that intrigued me.
How long could I resist her?
I took a slow sip of my wine, then grabbed a joint from the table.
The door opened. Wallace stepped inside.
“Boss,” he said, “I put her in an empty room.”
I said nothing.
But he hesitated.
“Speak,” I commanded.
He shifted on his feet. “Why?”
I flicked my gaze to him. “Why what?”
“Why did you leave her alive?”
My jaw tightened. “She didn’t kill Fraser, did she?”
Wallace hesitated. “I thought… it was part of the plan. To take her out of the way.”
I turned, slow and deliberate.
He panicked.
“W-Wait, I didn’t mean—”
“Wallace.” My voice was calm.
“Y-Yes, Master.” He swallowed hard.
I stared at him for a long moment. “Nothing happens to Vanora.”
A warning.
He bowed quickly. “Understood.” Then, he left.
I stood up.
And started walking toward Vanora’s room.
- Writer
