Nasya's POV
"What access pass?" I asked in confusion, caught off guard by the request.
The lead bodyguard, who was driving, glanced at me through the rearview mirror. His eyes flickered with surprise, as if he hadn't expected my ignorance about the procedure. But within a second, his expression smoothed over into professional neutrality. "We need an access pass to enter," he explained. "Didn't you have an appointment with Mr. Zayn King? He should have provided you with one."
I hesitated, embarrassment creeping into my voice. "I… I didn't arrange an appointment with Zayn in advance."
"I'm sorry, but without an access pass or prior appointment, entry is not permitted," the guard stated firmly, his voice devoid of any flexibility.
Frustration bubbled up inside me. "Then is he even here right now?" I pressed.
"Apologies, but we cannot disclose any information regarding Mr. King's whereabouts," the guard replied mechanically, his refusal absolute.
