ZOE DEAN’S POV
I didn’t wake up until after ten this morning. Lately, that had beco a pattern—ever since I started staying with Nero. Maybe it was the comfort of the place... or maybe it was him. Either way, my mornings had started coming late.
But today, I could still feel the exhaustion from last night’s wandering with Nero weighing on . It wasn’t just my body that felt drained—my thoughts were still tangled in everything that had happened.
When I finally opened my eyes, the bed beside was empty. Nero was gone.
I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. The room was too quiet.
I washed my face, combed my fingers through my hair, and padded downstairs.
Emily was already at the dining table, her breakfast half-eaten. She looked up when she saw , her expression soft but tired.
"Good morning, Zoe," she said with a small smile.
I yawned, trying to return it. "Morning, Emily."
I sat opposite her, pulling a chair out and glancing around. The house felt emptier than usual, like it was holding its breath.
"How did you sleep?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual, almost cautious.
"Pretty well," I said, studying her face. "You?"
She nodded once. "Okay."
Sothing about the way she said it didn’t sound okay. Her shoulders were a little slumped, her eyes duller than usual. But I didn’t want to pry, not when she clearly didn’t want to talk.
"Where’s everyone else?" I asked, keeping my tone gentle.
"They went out... to take care of sothing."
I nodded and headed to the kitchen to dish out my food. When I ca back, she was still eating in silence.
"You woke up quite late today," she said after a while, her fork scraping the plate lightly.
"Yeah," I admitted with a small laugh. "Nero and I went sowhere last night. Ca back really late."
Her eyes flicked up for a second, but she didn’t ask further, just nodded.
"Are you okay?" I asked, lowering my spoon. "You look a little... down."
She forced a smile. "I’m fine."
I knew she wasn’t, but I let it go. Sotis people didn’t want comfort, just space.
After breakfast, I went back upstairs for a bath. The warm water helped clear my mind, though my thoughts kept drifting to Nero, to last night, to the way he had casually talked about being his girlfriend.
When I finished scrubbing, I wrapped a towel around myself and pushed the bathroom door open, expecting the room to be empty like before.
But it wasn’t.
My steps froze. Nero was standing by the closet, his back slightly bent as he searched through sothing.
He turned at the sound of the door, and the mont his eyes landed on , everything in him went still. His hand paused mid-air, his jaw tightening. For a second, I thought he’d stopped breathing.
My heart skipped painfully in my chest.
Why did it feel so hard to move?
His eyes ran down —not in a way that felt wrong, but in a way that made heat rush to my cheeks. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple moving slightly.
Oh, no.
The air between us felt suddenly thick, almost too heavy to breathe.
"You’re... you’re ho?" I managed to stamr, clutching the towel a little tighter around .
He didn’t answer at first. Just stood there, frozen, his gaze flicking between my face and the floor like he wasn’t sure where to look.
For soone who’d seen the world, Nero looked completely out of his depth right now.
"Nero," I said softly, trying to break the tension.
That snapped him out of it. "Uh— I... yeah," he stamred, blinking fast. "I ca to... to get sothing. I didn’t... I didn’t an to invade your privacy."
My lips twitched, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break through. Nero, the man who could walk into danger without flinching, was stuttering.
"All right," I said lightly, pretending not to notice his discomfort.
He glanced at once more—quick, like a thief afraid of getting caught and then turned to grab a file from the closet.
"I should... go," he said, voice slightly hoarse.
I nodded, though I couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped . "Okay."
He smiled awkwardly, gave a small nod, and practically escaped the room.
When the door clicked shut, I let out the breath I’d been holding.
My pulse was still racing.
I pressed my palm against my chest and laughed softly to myself. That had been awkward. But sowhere beneath the awkwardness... it had also been kind of sweet.
And I couldn’t stop smiling.
***
STEFANO RUSSO’S (NERO’S) POV
After that mont with Zoe, I couldn’t calm myself down. My heart was still pounding like I’d just walked out of a fight. Every ti I closed my eyes, I saw her again—the way her damp hair clung to her shoulders, the way her eyes widened in surprise when she saw standing there.
I swallowed hard, dragging a hand over my face. Damn. I shouldn’t be thinking like this. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t push her out of my head. The towel. Her bare skin. The softness in her voice when she said my na.
It was like a whisper that wouldn’t stop echoing.
My thoughts kept running—they betrayed , painting images I shouldn’t be seeing.
Her lips parted under my touch. Her body pressed against mine. Her voice trembling as she whispered my na again—not in fear this ti, but in need.
I cursed under my breath, shaking my head like that would sohow drive the thoughts away.
"Nero!"
A sharp slap landed on my shoulder, snapping out of it. I blinked, turning to see Benny sitting beside , frowning.
"Yeah?" I said, trying to sound casual, like I hadn’t just been completely lost in a fantasy I shouldn’t have had.
We were in the attic — the room where all the real work happened. It wasn’t big, but it was packed: a wide desk with cables snaking in every direction, a glowing monitor full of lines of code I could barely understand, the low hum of servers filling the silence. This was Benny’s world. The part of my life that didn’t involve charm or chaos, but precision. Secrets.
He gave a suspicious look, one brow arched. "You’ve been staring into space for five minutes. What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing," I said too quickly.
He didn’t believe . I could see it in his face, the little smirk pulling at his lips.
I turned to the screen to change the subject before he could say anything else. "What did you find?"
Benny sighed but let it go, turning his attention back to the monitor. "Like I was saying before you went on your ntal vacation, I found sothing about Fernado Ashthorne."
That got my attention. The na hit like a jolt. I straightened, pushing away the thoughts of Zoe that had been clouding my head.
"Go on," I said.
"Well, Ben was right. There was a Fernado Ashthorne. He worked for your father for three years exactly. But..." Benny hesitated, frowning at the screen. "There’s sothing off."
My brows drew together. "Off how?"
He tapped a few keys, scrolling through a series of files and docunts that looked like static to . "His personal information is practically nonexistent. No address, no family records, no birth certificate, nothing."
"What do you an, nothing?"
"I an," he said, leaning back in his chair, "there’s no trace of him before or after those three years. It’s like he just appeared out of nowhere, worked for your father, and vanished after your mother’s death."
I stared at the screen, a knot tightening in my stomach.
"No family? No history? Not even a single connection?"
Benny shook his head. "Nothing. I ran his face through every database I could access. It’s clean. Too clean."
I leaned forward, bracing my hands on the desk. The glow of the monitor reflected off my knuckles. "Did you scan the picture?"
"Yeah. Multiple tis. Nothing ca up."
My jaw clenched. That didn’t make sense. People didn’t just not exist.
"Do you think Ben lied to us?" I asked quietly. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Benny hesitated. "I don’t think so. The record proves Fernado worked for your father. The problem is that there’s no past to him. Just those three years."
I looked at the image on the screen—the shadowy outline of a man in uniform.
My gut told there was sothing there. Sothing bigger.
"He disappears after her death?" I asked.
"Exactly then," Benny confird. "Not a single trace after that day."
I leaned back, crossing my arms, my mind racing. If Fernado had truly vanished after my mother’s death, then he wasn’t just so ordinary guard. He was involved. Sohow, he was tied to that night—the night that had ruined everything.
My fingers curled into fists.
Whoever he was, I would find him.
And if he had anything to do with her murder—he was already a dead man. Both him and his family.
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