Layla's POV
She watched Mara walk out of the CEO's office with eyes like knives; sharp, amused, and a little hungry.
Poor thing looked like she'd just swallowed a grenade.
Layla tapped her pen against the edge of her sleek desk, her lips curling into a smile that never quite reached her eyes. Another assistant. Another walking mistake. Zayn would get bored, like he always did.
He always came back to Layla… even if he didn't know it.
She had been there before the glass walls, before the marble floors. Before Haidar International had even gone international. Zayn Malik was her project; her blueprint. And while he'd risen to the top, she'd made sure her name was on every blueprint that mattered… quietly, of course.
Mara Daniels.
What a name. Sweet. Harmless. Perfect for fumbling coffee and tripping in boardrooms.
But something about her unsettled Layla. It wasn't her mistake. No, that had been a delight. What bothered her was Zayn's expression when he looked at the girl. It wasn't the usual bored glare or veiled annoyance. No.
It was curiosity.
Dangerous, electric curiosity.
And curiosity always led Zayn into trouble.
Layla spun in her chair, her eyes landing on the intercom. She leaned in, voice calm and dripping with practiced innocence.
"Daniel, I need the employee roster for Floor 21. And the security footage from this morning's file exchange."
Her nails tapped her desk again.
Let's see just how accidental that mistake really was.
Because if Mara thought this was some fairytale where the assistant gets the CEO…
Then she was about to learn;
The villainess always dresses better.
Later that afternoon, Mara stepped into the staff kitchen, hoping to get five seconds of silence; and maybe a cup of coffee that didn't taste like regret.
"Miss Daniels."
Mara froze.
She turned, slowly, already recognizing the voice before her eyes even met the stilettos. Layla stood there in sleek beige, a smile painted across her face like it was stitched on by angels; but her eyes?
All demon.
"You dropped something this morning," Layla said sweetly, holding out a pristine white folder.
It was the Kargan file.
Mara swallowed. "I—I thought I returned everything to Mr. Malik."
Layla stepped closer. "You returned something. But was it yours to carry in the first place?"
Mara blinked. The air thinned.
"I—didn't mean to…" she started, her voice trailing.
Layla's smile didn't flinch. "Intentions don't keep empires from falling, sweetheart."
Mara stiffened. Layla leaned in just slightly, voice lowering into something cold and sharp.
"Be careful, Mara. Haidar International doesn't reward chaos… and neither do I."
And with a graceful turn, Layla glided away, heels tapping like war drums on marble tile.
Mara stared at the door she left through, her hands curling into fists.
If Layla wanted a war;
She'd just picked the wrong girl to start it with.