ZOE DEAN’S POV
"Brother Stefano! Brother Stefano!"
The shrill, excited voice cut through the quiet morning before I could even react.
A young woman, probably my age, maybe a little older, ca running toward us. Her heels clacked against the marble floor as she rushed to the balcony, and before I could process what was happening, she threw her arms around Nero’s neck, squealing in delight.
I froze.
For a split second, so did he. His arms hung awkwardly at his sides, his brows lifting in surprise. I frowned waiting for him to gently push her off or, at the very least, look confused enough to match my own expression.
But then, he didn’t.
After a brief pause, Nero’s arms ca up around her, hugging her back like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I blinked once. Twice.
Wait—what?
He was hugging her back.
I stood there, hands limp at my sides, staring at the two of them tangled together in that too-long, too-comfortable hug. My stomach tightened, sothing small and ugly stirring there.
When she finally pulled back, she kept smiling at him like the sun rose and set in his eyes. She was beautiful—irritatingly beautiful—with glossy brown curls, perfect makeup, and a gown that scread expensive. She looked like she’d walked straight out of a magazine. The kind of woman who knew exactly how stunning she was and used it like a weapon.
"I didn’t know you were coming to Thailand ever again," she said brightly, still beaming at him. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her voice warm and soft.
Nero’s lips curved slightly to that faint smile he rarely gave anyone. That carefree smile he usually gave . "Elena, what are you doing here? You should be in London."
Elena.
Of course, she had a pretty na.
"I took the first flight as soon as Uncle Somchai told you were around," she said, lightly hitting his arm. "You didn’t tell you were coming. Why?"
He chuckled, a sound I usually loved but now found strangely grating. "You haven’t changed, little one," he said, reaching out to ruffle her hair.
Little one?
She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling. "I’m no longer ’little one,’ Brother Stefano. I’m all grown up now."
I couldn’t take it anymore. My throat cleared before I even realized I was doing it.
Both of them turned at the sound.
Nero looked over his shoulder at and, finally, seed to rember I existed. He smiled faintly, then reached over to take my hand, lacing our fingers together.
"Oh yeah," he said casually, as if this mont weren’t completely awkward. "et Zoe Dean. My girlfriend."
Her smile faltered.
Just like that, her face drained of color. Her gaze dropped to our joined hands, then slowly moved up to my face. I realized too late that I was still in my nightwear, hair tangled from sleep, face bare. I must’ve looked... well, not like soone who belonged next to him.
But I lifted my chin anyway and offered a polite smile. "Hi," I said, holding out my hand. "Nice to et you."
She didn’t move. Just stood there, staring at my hand like it had offended her. Then she turned back to Nero, voice trembling slightly. "Your girlfriend?"
"Yes," Nero said simply, his tone steady.
The word landed heavy in the air between us.
She blinked rapidly, looking as though she might cry. "But... you didn’t tell you had a girlfriend," she stamred, voice cracking. "I thought you didn’t... date."
Nero’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer.
The tension was unbearable, so I tried to ease it the only way I knew how—awkwardly. I gently grabbed her limp hand and shook it. "It’s really nice to et you, Elena," I said, forcing another smile.
Her eyes finally t mine, and what I saw there made my stomach sink. Not just surprise—disdain. Disgust. Anger.
She snatched her hand back like my touch had burned her. Then, without another word, she turned sharply on her heels and stord out.
The door slamd against the wall on her way out, rattling the fra.
And right at that exact mont, Benny appeared in the doorway, blinking in confusion. Elena brushed past him roughly, nearly knocking him off balance.
He looked from her to us, eyebrows raised. "What’s going on with her?"
Nero only shrugged. "No idea."
Benny squinted at him, then at . His lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh.
"Did she, uh... catch you two making out or sothing?"
I nearly choked on air. "Making out?"
My face flad instantly as the mory of what he’d walked into hit — in my nightwear, ssy hair, standing way too close to Nero. Oh, God. It did look bad.
"Be serious," Nero said dryly, though there was a flicker of amusent in his eyes.
Benny grinned. "Relax, boss. Just asking. Anyway, Somchai wants us in the garden this afternoon."
Nero nodded curtly. "We’ll be there. Now get out."
Benny smirked and left, closing the door behind him.
When I turned back, Nero was already walking toward the bed. I followed, crossing my arms. "So..." I started slowly. "Who was she?"
He sat down, leaning back on his hands. "Elena Romano. Somchai’s niece. We grew up together."
I nodded, trying to sound casual even though jealousy was simring under my skin. "She seems to... like you."
He glanced up at then, eyes steady, like he could read every thought in my head. For a mont, he said nothing. Then, simply and firmly, he said, "You’re the one I want."
My breath hitched.
The way he said it—calm, unshaken, like it was the most natural truth in the world—left frozen. My heart stuttered, warmth blooming in my chest.
I blinked, searching for sothing to say, but all that ca out was a nervous laugh. "You’re only saying that to shut up."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe."
I swatted his arm, and he caught my wrist, eyes softening. The mont stretched—quiet, fragile, charged with sothing I couldn’t na until he kissed briefly.
And just like that, my earlier jealousy lted into sothing tender.
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