STEFANO RUSSO'S (NERO'S) POV
By the time I returned to the mansion at midnight, the house was silent. The kind of silence that felt alive, breathing softly through the walls.
When I stepped into our room, Zoe was already asleep. Fast asleep.
Her light snores filled the dimly lit room, steady and gentle, like the sound of peace I hadn't known I craved. From where I stood, I could see her hair spilling over her face, the moonlight catching on the strands. I moved closer, careful not to make a sound.
For a long moment, I just stood there watching her. The corners of my mouth lifted without me realizing. I didn't even know why.
Love.
The word felt foreign, like something that belonged in another world. Not mine. Not in a world where blood was the only language that meant anything.
I wasn't supposed to feel this. I wasn't supposed to want this.
But somehow, against everything I believed, I fell in love with her. And now... she was everything that mattered.
I let out a quiet breath, then slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower, trying not to wake her. When I returned, I slid into bed beside her. The warmth of her body calmed something restless in me. For the first time in a long time, I fell asleep smiling.
***
When I woke the next morning, sunlight was just beginning to spill through the curtains. Zoe was still asleep, curled under the blanket, her lips slightly parted. She looked peaceful, too peaceful for me to disturb.
I got up quietly, took a quick shower, and dressed. When I came out, she was starting to stir. I leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, and watched her fight her way out of sleep.
"Is it that hard to get up from bed?" I teased, a smile tugging at my lips.
She peeked at me once, then groaned and flopped back onto the bed. "It is," she muttered through a yawn, "if you ate like a buffalo before falling asleep."
I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. God, she was adorable.
Shaking my head, I pushed off the doorframe and walked toward her. She didn't expect me to get that close, I could tell. When I leaned down, bracing both hands on either side of her, she froze, her breath hitched, her lashes blinked at me.
"Good morning, girlfriend," I whispered, my voice low and close enough for her to feel my breath.
Her cheeks flushed instantly. That shy little smile tugged at her lips, the one that always undid me. "Um... good morning," she stammered softly.
I chuckled, pushing off the bed before I lost my resolve. She made me weak in the most ridiculous ways.
Walking to the balcony, I slid open the glass door and stepped outside. The morning air was cool and crisp, brushing against my skin. I could hear her rustling behind me, and soon enough, she joined me.
We stood side by side in silence, both of us staring out at the horizon. The sky was slowly shifting colors—pink to gold to pale blue. It was beautiful, but all I could think about was what I had to say.
"Zoe," I said finally, her name slipping out softly.
She didn't look at me. "Hmm?"
I hesitated, running a hand through my hair. "I have to leave... in three days."
She turned then, her brows furrowing, eyes wide. "Leave?" Her voice was small, uncertain. "To where? Why?"
The way she looked at me—half afraid, half confused—made my chest tighten. I wanted to tell her I'd stay. I wanted to tell her she was enough to make me forget everything else. But that would be a lie.
I sighed and met her gaze. "Somchai found a lead. He's agreed to help me track down the man who killed my mother. I need to go with him."
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. The silence between us thickened, and for a moment, I almost wished I hadn't said anything.
Because I could already see the hurt in her eyes. And that... was the one thing I couldn't stand.
****
ZOE DEAN'S POV
At first, I thought I heard him wrong.
Leave?
He was leaving?
For a moment, the words didn't make sense. They just echoed in my head like something far away. But when I looked at him, really looked, I could see it written all over his face. The warmth that usually danced in his eyes was gone, replaced by something heavier… something final.
A small ache bloomed in my chest. He was leaving.
What would that mean for me?
My voice came out softer than I intended, trembling at the edges. "Are you going alone?" I tried to keep my expression calm, but my heart was thumping so loudly I thought he might hear it.
Was this how it ended? Was this how people got abandoned after finally letting themselves feel something real?
After yesterday? After he told me he loved me? After I told him?
He nodded slowly. "Yes," he said, his tone steady, almost too calm. "It's safer that way."
Safer.
The word sank in like a small blade. Safer for who? Him… or me?
I didn't ask. I didn't want to know. I wasn't sure I could handle the answer.
Instead, I asked the question I'd been trying to push down. "What happens to me when you leave?"
His eyes softened. "I'll be back."
Something inside me cracked a little.
He said it so easily, but he didn't know how much weight those words carried for me.
I swallowed hard. "Do you have to go?" I whispered before I could stop myself.
He blinked, startled, like he hadn't expected me to say that. I didn't even expect it myself. The truth slipped out before I could bury it. I didn't want him to go. I wanted him to stay. To forget the revenge, the pain, the ghosts of his past. I knew it was foolish to think he could, but still, I wanted it.
"Zoe…" he began, his voice low and hesitant, but then he stopped.
I closed my eyes and shook my head quickly, regretting my words. What was I doing? Why was I making this harder for him?
"It's fine," I said before he could speak again, forcing a small smile even though my chest felt tight. "I understand. You have to do what you have to do."
He looked at me quietly for a moment, and I hated that he could see through me so easily. The sadness I was trying to hide. The fear. The stupid, selfish wish that he'd choose me over his vengeance.
Then he moved. Slowly, deliberately.
He stepped closer until I could feel his warmth behind me. His arms slid around my waist, gentle, grounding, and then his head rested against my shoulder.
I let out a shaky breath, trying to hold myself together. I could feel his heartbeat against my back—steady, calm—while mine felt all over the place.
"I'll come back," he murmured softly, his breath brushing against my ear. His hands found mine where they rested on the balcony rail, his fingers curling over mine. "I promise."
I wanted to believe him. I really did. So I just nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
He kissed my neck lightly then, and the warmth of it startled a small laugh out of me. It was such a him thing to do—comfort me and tease me at the same time. I could feel the corners of my lips lift, the tension in my chest easing just a little.
For a few precious seconds, the world shrank down to just us—his arms around me, the sunlight on our skin, the sound of our breathing syncing together.
And then—
BANG!
The door burst open with a loud thud.
"Brother Stefano!" a small voice squealed.
We both froze.
I turned my head slightly, startled, still caught halfway between embarrassment and confusion, his hands still on mine.