We were soon invited into the dining area, a space that radiated quiet elegance. The long table was already set, and we took our seats gracefully. Lunch began with light conversation, and to my surprise, Zayn handled himself effortlessly. Lyon, ever the curious older brother, asked question after question, and Zayn answered each one with that calm, confident charm that made it hard not to be impressed.
“So, how did you two meet?” Lyon finally asked, his gaze moving between us.
I assumed it was my turn to speak. “In a club,” I replied simply, keeping my tone steady.
“One of my clubs, actually,” Zayn added smoothly, turning slightly toward me. “That’s where I first saw her.”
His eyes lingered on mine, and I felt heat crawl up my neck. I couldn’t say a word; instead, I just looked down at
