CHAPTER 8: NO HELP FROM DARIUS
ZARA:
The phone’s shrill ring cut through the heavy, suffocating silence of the suite like a blade. I was still reeling, my heart hammering against my ribs, humiliated by the way Darius had turned to stone the moment I’d kissed him. I felt like a fool for thinking that just because he served me dinner and poured me a glass of wine, he was into me.
“I'm sorry,” I said, pulling away from him.
My hand shook as I pulled my phone from my bag. The screen lit up, displaying Mom in bold letters. A strange, cold dread washed over me; my heart skipped a beat, not out of excitement, but out of pure, gut-wrenching instinct. I swiped to answer, pressing the phone to my ear. "Hello? Mom?"
"Zara," my mother’s voice came through, trembling and thin, like she was holdi
