The room was heavy with silence as the two men sat across from each other on the same couch.
One, dressed in a sharp suit, ate his lunch with slow, deliberate elegance.
The other, phone in hand, scrolled through the latest review Manager Guo had sent him.
"…"
"How was the meeting with Mo Yue?"
"…"
"…"
"Ani—"
"Don't call me that, Mr. Zhen," he cut in sharply, his tone ice-cold.
"…"
"And why is that?"
"…You know why."
"Andre, don't be childish. I simply wanted to know if the meeting went well and whether you were accepted. After all, you need a job… and I need more workers."
"…"
"It went fine. I'm now Mr. Mo's assistant. I would've started today if not for your request to meet."
"…"
The silence stretched again, thick with unspoken tension.
I hate when this man sticks his nose into my business… but—
"You know I can't stop, Andre," Zhen Yichen's voice broke into his thoughts.
Andre's face immediately stiffened. His silver eyes darkened, cold and burning with emotion as he glared.
"ZHEN YICHEN!"
"No need to be aggressive."
"Why?"
"I didn't come last night because I was extremely busy."
"I—"
"And I'll be busy for a while. Until then… relax."
"You!" Andre's voice trembled with anger and frustration.
"Why are you like this?" Zhen Yichen sighed helplessly, setting down his utensils with quiet finality. His meal was done, and satisfaction softened his expression as he turned to the young man—who now looked as though he might strangle him on the spot.
"I don't want anything from you, Andre. I just want to sleep."
Andre scoffed. "Oh, yes. Perfectly normal—for your stepfather to share your bed every night while having a wife."
Zhen Yichen studied the boy's face, as if trying to see through every layer.
"It's not what you think."
"I don't care. The fact that you lie beside me—I'm not comfortable with it. Especially when you know exactly who you are."
"…And who am I, exactly?"
Andre's expression froze, then twisted into something caught between shock and mockery.
"…"
He's barely holding himself together, Zhen Yichen thought, helplessness creeping into his chest. He's been cold from the moment I met him, indifferent to everyone except Celia. But with me… it's different. With me, there's resentment. Maybe that's normal, considering how I was introduced to him…
Flashback•••
"Ani, come here," a woman's voice called.
I stood beside Celia—radiant as ever—watching a boy approach. He looked like a smaller, younger version of her: beautiful, cold, tall for his age. He still had the air of a child, but his silver eyes held the weight of someone far older.
"Good day, Mom."
"Back from school? How was it?"
"Fine. Same as usual." His gaze locked onto mine with quiet intensity.
"Oh, dear! Look at you—staring straight into a stranger's eyes. Where are your manners?" Celia chided gently.
Beautiful, I thought. Like a light… a light I want to keep for myself. The realization startled me, but I didn't push it away. My life was dark enough to crave such brightness.
"Mr. Zhen, this is my son, Andre. He's fifteen."
"Sixteen," the boy corrected firmly.
I chuckled, amused. "Sixteen, then."
"Ani, this is Mr. Zhen…" Celia hesitated, the pause heavy. "…And he's your new father."
The air instantly thickened. Andre's silver eyes sharpened into blades aimed at me.
Andre… I like that name, I thought, unbothered by the tension.
"Hello, Ani."
"It's Andre," he shot back, voice tight.
"Oh, Andre," I agreed easily.
His frown deepened, and he looked ready to storm off, but Celia's voice stopped him.
"Wait, Andre."
"What?" His impatience was clear.
"We're leaving Italy tonight. We'll be going with Mr. Zhen to Z City."
He froze, the blow landing hard despite the cold mask he wore.
"Pack your bags. I've already called your school to withdraw you. If you have friends, you can call them to say goodbye."
"I don't."
"Alright then. You can go."
He turned without another word, but his eyes lingered on me—stormy, accusing. You've ruined my life, they seemed to say.
I could only watch him leave, strangely helpless.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," Celia murmured. "He's still a child. The news was a shock."
"It's fine," I said with an understanding smile. "That's normal."
Relieved, she smiled back. "Thank you."
"It's okay, Celia. If anything, I should be thanking you."
We stood there, exchanging smiles—two people bound by unspoken understanding.