Zayn was pleased. He was having a good meal by himself, without Perrie staring him down or complaining. He could be alone with his thoughts and his food. He piled eggs and toast on his plate, strolled over to the island, and took a seat on the bar stool.

Wedding magazines were strewn all over the countertop, glossy models in frilly, white dresses were on the cover facing him. The amount of wedding planning Perrie went through made him want to gag. The fact that she enjoyed it and asked for his opinions made it that much worse.

How could he even marry this woman though? Firstly, she drives him bananas. Secondly, she nags and won't let him have a moment of tranquility. Thirdly, Perrie always looked like she had something up her sleeve. It was as if she knew a secret that he didn't and it made his something-isn't-right sensors go off. Zayn could always call off the wedding, but he chose not to. He proposed to her, so there was no going back.

He stuffed the remainder of his dinner into his mouth and set the plate in the sink. Drowsiness was tugging at his eyelids, so he decided to trudge upstairs, where Perrie was.

Zayn entered the bedroom and glanced at Perrie, who had her back turned to the doorway. Her nose was stuffed into a book and she refused to acknowledge his presence.

Fine by me, he thought, while stripping off his clothing.

Climbing into bed with nothing but his boxers on, he shifted onto his side, away from Perrie.

"Goodnight," he mumbled into the pillow.

"'Night," she replied softly.

---

Perrie dozed in and out of sleep. She tossed and turned in an effort to get comfortable, however she was growing restless. She knew that she had to put her plan into action at some point, she just wasn't sure when would be the best time. Zayn was a light sleeper, so any attempt of hers to be sneaky might be a failed one.

He seemed pretty tired when he went to bed. Maybe he won't wake up so easily, Perrie thought. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Careful not to move the bed too much, she swung her legs over the side and stood up. Silently, she reached down and felt underneath the bed. Her hand closed around a molded, wooden handle and she dragged it out. The moonlight streaming from the window caught the baseball bat as she held it up. It was heavy and would definitely do the trick.

Perrie lifted the bat up in the air. Her heart was pounding a million beats a second and adrenaline was coursing through her veins, but she kept repeating to herself that it would be worth it in the end. Aiming for Zayn's head, she swung the bat down with as much force as she could muster. A yelp escaped Zayn's mouth, but before he could fully react, he passed out.

Perrie's wobbly legs carried her to the backyard and behind some shrubs, where she broke out a shovel and began digging. She had to bury the bat, so the police couldn't find any evidence. Once she had dug a decent sized hole, she plopped the baseball bat in, covered up the aperture, and ran back into the house to call 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"M-my fiancee was struck in his sleep by a robber. I need h-help," Perrie said. Her voice took up a frightened tone, obviously faked.

"What's your address?"

"1769 Leighton Ave, Los Angeles."

"Ma'am, help is on the way."

"Thank you." Perrie hung up the phone.

She began to knock things over on purpose and make a mess of the house, creating the effect that somebody had been there with the attempt to harm them.

A smug smile was plastered to her lips, she knew she had done well. Soon Zayn's fortune would be hers and she couldn't be more pleased.

Notes