Chapter 411
Zayn paused, a little thrown. After a beat, he said, "Alright, give it a try."
He strode off, and Tina glided along on her roller skates, sticking close and playing Victor's story again.
Zayn just walked on, eyes on the greenery. He knew that if he took the grassy path instead of the smooth walkway, her skates wouldn't stand a chance.
But seeing the determined grin on her face, he decided against it.
Here was this writer, who, rain or shine, joined him for walks twice a day, and even practiced skating just to keep up. Making her struggle by taking the tougher route felt a bit cruel.
With a quiet sigh, he thought, 'Fine, let her be.'
Besides, he had heard enough of "Beauty and the Boss" by now to find it less cheesy than he'd expected; some parts were actually entertaining. He figured it was as good a way as any to pass the time.
Tina, catching his look, smirked. "Ha! Told you I'd keep up! Just say the word when you're ready to play Victor, and I'll stop tagging along."
Zayn glanced over, mildly curious. "Don't writers have, like, deadlines? How do you keep up with your work while following me around?"
"Yeah, I've sacrificed plenty of working hours!" Tina puffed her cheeks. "But my book's about to hit the shelves, so I'm ahead. The printed version has even more chapters than the online one, so I basically finished it ages ago.
"Now, I only post a few thousand words each day online, then spend the rest of my time editing. Gives me a bit more freedom."
Zayn was quiet for a moment before saying, "You've spent so much time on me. Aren't you worried it's gonna be a waste?"NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.
"Not at all," Tina shrugged. "Even if you end up saying no, this daily exercise has done wonders for me She grinned. "Honestly, I feel way stronger. I don't get tired as easily, my back pain's gone, and I'm sleeping better too."
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Zayn listened with a slight smile. Tina's easygoing optimism was refreshing; he felt a bit more at ease about eventually turning her down. She seemed like the type to take it in stride.
Meanwhile, halfway across the continent in a dim basement in Southeast Talandra, a rugged man with a close-cropped head, scars crisscrossing his bare chest, leaned back on a tattered couch.
He spun a dagger in one hand and clutched a bottle of liquor in the other, his eyes narrowed at the man on the old TV in front of him.
On the screen, a soldier was fighting his way through terrorists in the Osceiton film, "Boundary Strike", which was popular in Southeast Talandra.
But he wasn't watching for the action-he was focused on the soldier himself.
With a smirk, he used the dagger to
pause the film and stared hard at
the man on screen. "Mist... you actually survived and became some big shot. Your movie is booming here, guess fate has put you right back in my sights."
S
He stood up, his voice a low growl. "This time, I'm taking your head as an offering for my foster father and the brothers fallen behind."
With that, he sprang up, kicking over
the table in front of him. With a swift flick of his wrist, he threw his dagger, which landed right on Zayn's face on the screen, shattering the glass and cracking Zayn's image in haff.
"Benny! Spike!" he called out, his voice sharp.
Two of his men quickly ran in. "Boss, what's going on?"
"I found Mist!" His face twisted with anger, and his voice turned cold, like a snake about to strike. "He's Zayn Donovan, a celebrity from Osceiton!
"Get all the details on his whereabouts, but don't alert anyone. Gather the rest of the guys, we're heading to Osceiton. This time, I'll kill Zayn with my own hands!"