ZOE DEAN’S POV
"Sending ho?"
The words caught in my throat. I looked at Benny, waiting—hoping—he’d laugh it off or tell I heard wrong. But he didn’t. He just stared straight ahead, his jaw tight, his hands gripping his knees.
A lump ford in my chest. I know I should be happy that finally I would be going ho, but I felt my heart shatter. Because sohow I had ford a bond with everyone. Emily, Nero and even him.
"Why?" I asked softly. My voice barely ca out. "Why are you sending ho? Where’s Nero?"
He still wouldn’t look at . His gaze stayed fixed on the window, on the blur of city lights flashing past. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and careful—like he was choosing each word.
"I’m not in the best position to answer your questions, Zoe."
That made my heart squeeze tighter.
I didn’t even know what I was feeling anymore. Confused? Scared? Angry? All of it, maybe. Because if Nero was fine like Benny claid, why wasn’t he the one here telling this himself? Why wasn’t he calling? Why wasn’t he coming for ? Why wasn’t he the one sending ho?
"But you said you were saving my life," I whispered, searching his face for sothing—truth, comfort, anything.
"I am."
"How?" My voice trembled. "Benny, if sothing happened to Nero, just tell . I can handle it."
He didn’t answer. The silence stretched, thick and unbearable. I kept staring at him, waiting for him to say sothing, anything, but the way his jaw clenched told he wouldn’t.
Outside the window, the world moved on without —streetlights, buildings, shadows—everything blurring into nothing. My mind was racing, searching for sense in all this, but none of it made sense.
Finally, Benny leaned forward and said quietly, "Bull, pull over."
The car slowed and stopped by the roadside. He turned to then, his expression heavy.
"Zoe," he said gently, "I wish I could explain everything, but I can’t. You’ll get your answers soon, just... not from ."
I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting.
"Go ho," he continued. "Continue your life. When Nero’s in the right state of mind, he’ll co back to you. I’m sure of it."
My brows furrowed. "Right state of mind? What does that an? Is he okay?"
"He’s fine," Benny said quickly, nodding as if to reassure . "Trust , Nero’s fine. It’s just... he’s about to make a really tough decision. And with you around, he’s—conflicted."
I blinked at him, confusion thickening. "Conflicted? About what?"
Benny hesitated, then said quietly, "Because the past is out."
"The past?" I repeated, frowning. "What do you an, the past is out?"
He gave a small, sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "Nero will explain better."
I leaned toward him, desperate now. "Where is he? Can I see him? Please, Benny, I just want to see him."
He shook his head. "He’ll co to you when the ti is right."
That was it. I couldn’t hold it anymore. My throat ached, my eyes burned. None of this made sense. Why was everyone talking in riddles? Why couldn’t anyone just tell what was going on?
Benny reached for the door handle but paused. His voice softened. "You’ll go with Bull back to Santiago. He’ll take you ho safely."
I felt my chest tighten. "Benny... please. Just explain sothing to . I’m so confused." My voice broke on the last word.
He sighed, his shoulders sinking like the weight of it all was finally too much. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded white handkerchief. Carefully, he placed it in my hand and covered it with his own.
"Nero will tell you everything when he cos," he said quietly. "For now, you have to trust . You must go."
I stared down at our hands—his rough palm over mine, the handkerchief pressed between us. My vision blurred as tears welled up again. I didn’t want to go. Not like this. Not without Nero.
He pulled his hand away gently and turned to the driver. "Bull, send her ho safely. You know what to do."
"Yes, boss," ca the deep reply from the front seat.
Benny turned back to , his expression softer now. "Be okay, Zoe. Take care of yourself in Santiago. And... I hope all this goes smoothly."
He opened the door before I could say another word. Cool night air swept in. Then the door closed, and just like that, he was gone.
The car started moving again. I didn’t even realize I was crying until the tears rolled hot down my cheeks. I pressed the handkerchief to my face, the fabric soft and faintly scented like him—like the mansion, like the life I was being ripped away from.
My chest ached as the mories flooded back. The first day Nero took away from my life. The anger, the fear, the confusion. How much I had hated him then. How everything had changed.
Now I was crying for the sa man who had once terrified . Crying because leaving him felt like losing a part of myself.
I sniffled and leaned my head against the cold glass of the tinted window, watching the dark world outside blur by.
I ca here as a prisoner. And now I’m leaving as soone who doesn’t even know where she belongs.
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