ZOE DEAN’S POV
Most of the flight blurred into sleep.
The hum of the private jet, the soft blankets, the dim lights — everything made it too easy to drift off beside Emily. At so point, the hours folded into each other, and when I finally woke up, my head felt heavy and my limbs useless, like I’d been poured into my own body incorrectly.
Emily was still asleep, curled up like a child. I didn’t want to wake her. So after stretching a little, I dragged myself up and walked toward the back where Nero and Benny sat talking in hushed voices.
They stopped the second they saw .
Interesting.
I sank beside Nero with a big, ungraceful yawn. My body still felt soft and lazy from the long nap, and honestly, if the seat had been any warr, I might have curled up again.
Both of them were staring at like I’d walked in on a secret eting.
"What are you guys talking about?" I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.
Without a word, I leaned into Nero, letting my body sprawl across the leather. He didn’t even hesitate — his arm slipped around my shoulders, warm and solid, and he pressed a feather-light kiss to my forehead. It was so soft it almost didn’t feel real.
Thank God I’d tied my hair up earlier. If it had been down, I would’ve definitely lted on the spot.
Benny cleared his throat — once, twice — like soone preparing to lie or run for their life. His eyes darted everywhere but at us.
"I’m, uh... I’m gonna go see if Emily needs anything," he blurted. "You both... catch up."
He didn’t wait for a response. He practically escaped.
I blinked after him. "...Okay?"
I shifted a little on Nero’s chest, trying to see his face. "What was that about?"
"What?" he asked smoothly, as if he hadn’t just been caught red-handed with a guilty friend.
I shot him a look. "Don’t play with . You both stopped talking the mont I walked in, and Benny ran off like he stole sothing."
Nero chuckled, low and warm, and leaned back in his seat. His fingers grazed up and down my arm in slow strokes ant to distract .
"Don’t mind Benny. He’s dramatic."
Avoiding the question.
Typical Nero.
I sighed, letting my head drop back onto him. I shouldn’t push — but the curiosity gnawed at anyway. So I went straight to the other thing he’d ntioned earlier.
"You said you need my father’s help," I said quietly. "What exactly does that an?"
Silence fell between us — not awkward, but heavy. Like he was rearranging the truth inside his head.
Finally, he said, "I did."
"Why?"
His thumb brushed over the back of my hand, slow and steady. "Because I found out your father was sent to kill my mother."
My body stiffened.
"He was sent?" I whispered.
"Yes."
"By who?"
"That’s what I need to know," he murmured. "Your father wasn’t acting alone. There was soone behind him... a mastermind."
I lifted my head slightly to look at him, my chest tightening. "And you’re just telling this now?"
"I only just found out."
Another silence. Longer. This ti it wasn’t because he was holding back. It was because my mind was spinning.
Questions. Fear. Confusion. Anger that didn’t know where to land.
Because Nero’s world... it wasn’t mine. It wasn’t sothing you dipped your toes into. It swallowed you whole if you weren’t careful.
And I was already neck-deep.
I swallowed. "What happens when you find my father?"
His jaw flexed, but his voice stayed soft. "I want his help. To find whoever was really behind everything. And then..." He exhaled. "Then I can finally let go of the revenge."
My brow pulled. "I thought you chose forgiveness."
"I did." He paused. "...But that doesn’t an the person who planned my mother’s death gets to walk free."
Wasn’t that the sa thing? Hunting soone down, seeking justice, holding onto revenge — weren’t they just different shadows of the sa emotion? I wanted to ask but bit my tongue.
I knew the pain of losing a mother. Mine had been taken by sickness, his by murder — but grief didn’t really care about the cause. It hurt the sa way.
So I didn’t argue. I didn’t question it.
I just leaned into him again, letting the closeness ground . And he tightened his arms around , holding like he understood every thought I wasn’t saying.
*********
By the ti we touched down in xico the next afternoon, I felt like my bones had lted. I’d been hopping from country to country these past few days like it was so normal Tuesday routine. It wasn’t that I hated it... it was just exhausting. The kind of exhaustion that sinks into your skin and stays there.
Nero held my hand as we stepped into the arrival terminal. The air slled different here—warm, slightly dusty, and busy. We usually landed in secluded private areas, so seeing people around us felt strangely... normal. A little too normal.
Nero stepped aside to speak with a man in a black suit. That left standing there alone, watching Benny and Emily wrapped in their own little bubble as usual. They were kissing, laughing quietly like teenagers in love.
They were so adorable it almost made my chest tighten.
Would Nero and I ever have sothing like that?
I didn’t let myself dwell on it, mostly because my brain wasn’t ready to deal with anything complicated. But then—
"Zoe?"
The voice was soft, uncertain... masculine.
I turned slowly.
And froze.
Damien.
Damien, in his damn leather jacket and trouble-in-human-form energy, walking toward with that sa mischievous smile I rembered. The guy who saved the night I tried to take a shortcut ho. The guy who stepped in like so reckless hero, scared away the n who troubled , and then walked ho like he’d done sothing casual.
Now he was here.
In xico.
I could recognise him anywhere.
"Damien," I breathed out, surprised—and okay, maybe a little confused—despite how insane this was.
"My goodness," he said, stopping right in front of . "What are you doing here? So you’ve been in xico and I was back in Santiago looking all over for you."
I blinked. Looking for ? We barely even talked that night. That sounded... too much.
I chuckled. "Well... I left for Los Angeles the next day."
And the way he was smiling—so wide, almost boyish—it felt suspicious. Like he knew sothing I didn’t.
"No wonder I couldn’t find you," he said.
"You ca back to find ?" The words slipped out before I could swallow them.
His eyebrows lifted, surprised I actually asked. "I did," he answered with that sa playful smirk.
"Why?" I didn’t an for the question to sound so blunt, but it ca out anyway.
Before he could answer, a shadow fell across us.
Nero.
He was walking toward us with a frown so dark it sent an actual chill through . He never looked at like that. Never.
Damien must have sensed the shift because he turned too.
"Yo, Nero," he called out casually.
I nearly choked on my own breath.
They knew each other?
Nero didn’t respond. He didn’t even fake politeness. He went straight to , slid an arm around my waist, and pulled against him. His fingers rested dangerously close to my hip, his body radiating tension.
Damien’s eyes dropped to Nero’s hand around ... and that mischievous smirk returned, deeper, sharper.
"You kept us waiting," Nero said to him —like he’d done sothing wrong. His jaw was tight. Too tight.
I looked between both of them, stunned.
What exactly was happening here?
"There was... uh... traffic," Damien said, scratching the back of his neck. Before anything else could explode, Benny and Emily walked over.
"Damien!" Benny shouted happily, pulling him into a hug and slapping his back. Damien grimaced at the impact, but Benny didn’t notice and kept talking a mile a minute.
Nero used the distraction to lean closer to . "Are you okay?" he murmured, low and protective.
"Yes," I whispered back. My head was spinning, but I was okay.
"So," I said softly, "you both know each other?"
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "Damien is my cousin."
My jaw dropped.
Cousin.
Cousin?!
Before I could recover from that plot twist, he asked, "How do you know him?"
"He... saved one night."
"Oh."
Just that. No emotion. No follow-up question. Just a clipped "oh," like he was busy suppressing a hundred thoughts.
Before we could walk away from the group to actually talk about any of this, Damien spoke up loudly:
"Guys! We should get going. Your ride’s waiting."
Nero dropped his arm from my waist... but took my hand instead. His grip was firm, possessive. Like he was silently telling everyone—and mostly Damien—she’s with .
Damien, Benny, and Emily walked ahead toward the exit.
Nero and I followed behind.
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