Isla’s POV
I didn’t realize my feet were already moving until I found myself walking down the short hallway toward the bedroom.
The apartment still smelled faintly new, fresh wood, clean linen, and whatever ridiculously expensive cologne Zayne wore that somehow lingered everywhere he went like a quiet warning.
I pushed the bedroom door open. And stopped.
“Oh.”
Two luxury boxes sat neatly at the center of the bed like they had been waiting patiently for my discovery. One deep brown, one black. Even from the doorway I recognized them instantly.
Louis Vuitton. YSL.
My brain stalled for a full five seconds. I slowly turned my head toward the doorway behind me.
Zayne leaned against the wall just outside, arms folded loosely across his chest like he was trying very hard to look casual.
