• 26
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Her logic was insane.
"Dress cute so you have the confidence even if he embarrasses you," she said.
Right. Because heels totally fix emotional trauma.
But after enough dramatic teenage sass, I caved.
I put on a short lavender dress that hugged my waist and ended mid-thigh. I left my hair down in soft waves, added my favorite gold kitten heels, and stared at myself in the mirror for a full thirty seconds trying not to chicken out.
It was almost midnight.
No sane person would be doing this.
But I needed answers.
And if he was going to lie to me, at least I would look cute while being lied to. Maybe he would think I look cute too?
I just need to stop.
I grabbed my keys and drove across the city, my heart thumping like I was doing something illegal. Every streetlight made the inside of my car glow purple from the dress, and I felt... ridiculous. Nervous. Stupid.
But I kept driving.
I reached his building and parked outside. Angelo was waiting near the entrance, arms crossed, sharp eyes scanning the sidewalk. He frowned slightly when he noticed me.
"Miss Daria? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?" he asked carefully, like he was ready to jump into action if I said one wrong word.
"I'm fine," I said quickly. "I just need to talk to Nico."
He gave a slow nod, still confused. "I'll let him know you're here."
Before he could turn, another man walked up behind him with raised brows.
He smiled politely and held the door open. "Come in. I'll inform the boss."
But before he even finished speaking, I heard a voice behind me.
"Daria?"
Enzo.
He grinned like he was in on a secret no one else knew.
"Enzo!" I said, rushing forward and instinctively hugging him. He hugged me back easily, warm and friendly, and when we pulled away he looked at me with that usual amused sparkle in his eyes.
"Fancy seeing you here. Miss me already?" he teased.
Enzo looked like trouble wrapped in a smile.
He was nothing like Nico, he was lighter, younger, all charm and mischief.
Messy brown hair he probably ruined on purpose, warm eyes that always looked like they were mid-laugh, and a boyish grin that somehow made everything feel lighter.
No visible tattoos, but he definitely worked out with Nico; both brothers were blessed by genetics in ways that felt personally unfair.
I rolled my eyes. "Enzo, I didn't even know you lived in this building."
He laughed and shrugged casually. "Yeah, I do. Family thing."
Before I could respond, heels clicked across the marble. A tall woman appeared, holding a glass of wine
Beautiful. Elegant.
Nico's supposed girlfriend.
My stomach twisted painfully.
"Lorenzo," she said softly.
He smirked. "Eirine."
She glanced at him, then at me. Her eyes ran over my dress, my face, my hair.
She gave me a tiny glare. Barely noticeable, but enough to punch the air out of my lungs.
Maybe she knew.
Maybe she heard, and could smell guilt on me like perfume.
I suddenly felt stupid in my little purple dress. Who was I trying to impress when she looked like that?
"Let's go," Enzo said gently, noticing the panic I was trying to hide. "I'll take you up."
He guided me to the elevator. I didn't look back at her. I couldn't.
In the elevator, he pressed the top floor using a fingerprint scanner and a code. The doors closed and he leaned back casually.
"I hope that lazy shit isn't sleeping," he muttered. "He'll have to wake up."
I giggled despite myself, grateful he was trying to lighten the mood.
When the elevator opened, I stepped into the same breathtaking penthouse I'd seen before. City lights spread across the windows like a universe, expensive furniture glowed under warm lamps, and everything smelled of luxury and cologne.
"Nico," Enzo announced loudly. "I have someone very special here to see you."
I rolled my eyes at his sing-song tone.
"Enzo, I swear to God, I'm sick of your—"
Nico walked out.
And everything inside me stopped.
He was in sweatpants.
Grey. Low on his hips. Shirtless. V line.
Fully. Completely. Shirtless. Holy smokes.
His hair was wet, dripping slightly at the collarbone.
Muscles carved like he walked out of a book.
Tattoos covered his arms, chest, ribs. A lion on one side.
Script in Italian across his ribs. A dagger inked along his side.
I'd never seen him like this. Never seen this version of him.
Raw and unfiltered... I was staring.
Stop staring, Daria.
For a moment, I forgot why I was here... even the existence of oxygen.
His eyes widened when he saw me. He was still. Just for a second.
Like he wasn't expecting me. Like he didn't know what to do with what he was seeing.
Enzo grinned at both of us like he'd just orchestrated a movie scene.
"So. I'll leave you two kids alone," he said. "Stay safe."
He winked and disappeared back into the elevator.
The doors closed.
Silence between us.
Nico's eyes dragged down my body slowly, from my hair... to my shoulders... to my dress... to my legs... then back up.
Heat washed through me so fast I nearly stepped back.
He walked closer. One step, really slowly.
Not one word, yet I panicked.
My rehearsed speech evaporated.
"I—I'm sorry for coming. I just... I needed to... I—" My voice cracked and I wanted to bury myself alive. "I just wanted to ask you something."
His voice was deep, rough. "Why are you dressed like that?"
My cheeks burned. He noticed.
He really noticed.
Did I want him to notice?
"I came here to ask you why you didn't tell me you had a girlfriend," I blurted. "I saw her downstairs. And online. And I just... I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have kissed you. I don't know why I did any of it. I'm sorry. I'll just go. This was stupid—"
Another step closer.
He lifted his hand and gently hooked two fingers under my chin, tilting my face up until I was forced to look at him.
He looked almost amused. Yeah I definitely wanted to dissapear.
"She's not my girlfriend, Daria," he said softly.
Heat flushed through my entire body. "Oh."
"Oh?" he repeated, stepping closer. "That's all you have to say?"
Mortification clawed up my throat. "I'm sorry. I thought—"
"Don't apologize, baby."
Baby.
Baby.
Baby?
My knees didn't just feel weak.
They fully evaporated.
"You shouldn't have come here," he said quietly.
My heart dropped.
"W-why?" I whispered.
He leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek, his chest close enough to touch if I just leaned forward an inch.
"Because you don't understand what you do to me."