~Zayn's POV~
The person standing on my doorstep, dressed in a sharp, casual outfit and wearing a smirk that made my blood run cold, was Nicki.
I stared at him for a long, cold minute, letting him enjoy the moment before stepping back. "Come in," I instructed, my voice flat.
Nicki strolled in like he owned the place and dropped onto my sofa, completely at ease, a smug smile playing on his lips as he soaked in the tension.
I sat down opposite him. "Can I get you anything? Drink? Water?" I asked, playing the part of the polite host.
"I don't want anything," he said, his eyes glinting. Leaning forward, he added smoothly, "I'll get straight to the reason I'm here."
"I'm listening to you," I said, leaning back, adopting the calm neutrality of a man already prepared for the worst.
