I lug the packed suitcases down the stairs, my mind set on getting out of here, but as I reach the front door, two of Zayn's guards step forward, blocking my way. They exchange a look, clearly unsure, but one of them speaks up.
"Ma'am… Kattie… Mr. Zayn didn't tell us you were leaving. We're going to have to call him before we let you take the car."
He says, his voice cautious but firm.
I narrow my eyes, my grip tightening on the suitcase handles.
"Let me? Let me?"
I repeat, my voice edged with disbelief.
"Did you forget who I am? I'm still your boss, and I don't need Zayn's permission to come and go from my own home."
They hesitates, shifting uncomfortably. A part of me is glad that
"We're just following protocol, ma'am. Mr. Zayn put us in charge of security, and he expects us to report any unexpected—"
"Unexpected?"
I cut him off, my voice rising.