"You—!" The word ripped from my throat like a venomous hiss, my knuckles whitening as fingernails dug into the flesh of my palms. For all his empire's reach—those weapons warehouses stretching from coast to coast, the Night Shade Pack swelling under his iron rule—Zayn King would always be a goddamn businessman at heart. Profit margins and power plays, that's all this was.
The bastard actually had the audacity to smirk at my outrage. "Well? What's your answer?"
"My consent hardly matters here," I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended. "Austin would never allow this." The mere thought of my brother's reaction sent a fresh wave of dread through me. He'd burn the city to the ground before letting me defect to Night Shade Pack.
Zayn waved a dismissive hand, as if swatting away an insignificant concern. "All you need to do is say yes. I'll handle the rest."
