@threebreaths | PLOTTED STARTER.
The apartment was dimply lit and quiet that evening, just as Zane preferred it to be. It was pleasantly spacious and cool inside, despite the warm climate of Los Angeles — or more so, in spite of it. In nearly every direction one looked, there was at least one potted plant of some kind, even in the kitchen window far above the sink, where Zane stood.
He'd made a haphazard dinner for himself after coming home so late from a job. It was there, cleaning the pan he'd used, when he felt an unfamiliar presence somewhere far behind him. It sent a burst of panic and rage through him — who the fuck had the audacity to break into his apartment, especially given that the entire complex was owned by his clan?
Zane continued to clean the pan, pretending as though he hadn't noticed .... and his eyes drifted to the dish basin to his left, where he spotted a steak knife. He reached for it casually, as if all he was doing was rinsing it off, and he waited until his uninvited guest was close enough to reach. Then, gripping the knife tightly, Zane whirled, jabbing his elbow backward in hopes of landing a blow to the face.
