CHAPTER 26
NERO ZANTHOS
“Why are we in an empty apartment?” Nina asks, scanning the space around her. “Is this Drako’s place, and are you getting rid of all the furniture that isn’t suitable for touching?” I throw my head back and laugh before answering.
“No—but I’ll save that idea for later.”
“So what are we doing here?” Nina doesn’t look at me when she speaks. She’s actually walking away from me, heading down the corridor at the far end of the massive living room.
I follow her without getting too close, letting her curiosity explore the rooms however she likes, amused by how eager she is to snoop around a place she has no idea about.
“We’re exploring,” I answer after a while, though I don’t think she’s particularly interested in my reply. She’s climbing the stairs to the second floor of the penthouse now.
She opens the first door—the master bedroom, as empty as the rest of the apartment—and after spinning once on the spot, she goes to the door on her left and opens it.
The empty walk-in closet isn’t enough to hold her attention. When she opens the door on the right, however, and finds the master bathroom, a sigh of admiration slips from her lips, erasing any doubt I had. That was the entire reason I brought her here, in fact.
“I would very much like to explore that jacuzzi,” she says, laughing, and I finally close the distance between us. I wrap my arms around her waist. Standing behind her, I rest my chin on her shoulder.
“We can do that right now.”
She lets out a light laugh, then suddenly falls silent, slipping out of my hold and turning to face me.
“Is this place yours?” she asks, alarmed.
“That depends—did you like it?”
“What?”
“Did you like it here?”
“Why does that matter?”
“It matters. Did you like it or not?” Nina studies me for a few seconds, weighing it.
“Well, it’s empty, so it’s a bit hard to give a concrete opinion—but it’s huge and I loved the flooring. Oh, and I could live in that jacuzzi.” She gestures at the tub behind her with her thumb.
“Then now this place is mine.”
She laughs again.
“You bought it in the last ten seconds?” I narrow my eyes at her and pull my phone from my pocket. I unlock the screen, open my messages, select the right contact, and send a single word.
“I did.”
Blue eyes blink several times before her heart-shaped mouth opens and closes without sound.
“You can’t be serious,” she finally says.
“Why not?”
“You can’t buy an apartment just because I liked it.” The tone she uses isn’t playful like when we arrived, nor teasing like when she asked if I’d bought it in the last ten seconds. If I had to name it, I’d call it worried.
“And why not? I expect you to spend a lot of time here—it’s important to me that you like it,” I tell the truth, and her gaze softens.
The emotion lasts only a second before Nina hides it. The reaction is strange—my Little Fae has always been direct and transparent about what she thinks and feels. Seeing her withdraw like this is definitely not normal.
“I didn’t know you were moving,” she says quietly, her eyes everywhere but on me.
“You said you were worried about the gossip and preferred to try being more discreet. I thought it was a good time,” I remind her, but that still doesn’t bring her eyes back to mine.
“Will you help me choose the bed? I intend for you to spend a lot of time in it too.” I flash a wicked smile, trying to lighten whatever is pulling her away from the here and now, and pull her back into my arms.
I draw her closer, expecting a cheeky reply—but all I get is a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
I’m about to ask what’s going on when Nina’s phone starts ringing.
She pulls it from her pocket and holds it right in front of her eyes, almost as if she wants to keep me from seeing the name on the screen. I frown.
“Sorry, I need to take this,” she says, slipping from my arms again and leaving the bedroom to answer the call away from me.
The careful, curious way I watch her walk out has nothing to do with not wanting to give her privacy. It’s just that she’s never done anything like this—and it isn’t the first unusual behavior I’ve noticed from Nina this past week.
Beyond today’s strange tendency to withhold feelings and information she used to share without a second thought, over the last few days she’s declined at least half a dozen phone calls while we were together, brushing them off as unimportant—when for weeks I watched her answer every call as if each one were life-or-death.
A few minutes later, she returns to the bedroom wearing the same odd smile as before.
“Everything okay?”
“Mm-hmm. It is. It was nothing,” she says, and that’s all.
If it was nothing, why step so far away to answer?
“So—what do you think about choosing the bed on Wednesday? If you can get some time off, we can pick one here in Khione, but if you’d rather, we can go to Athens on Tuesday.”
“This week is a bit hectic at the shop—we have a few orders. I can’t leave early. And Tuesday?” she asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t on Tuesday. I’ll be very busy.”
“Busy?”
“Very.”
I wait for more information, but it doesn’t come. Nina stays quiet, looking at me with unease.
“Next Tuesday?” I suggest when too much time passes without a word.
“That sounds like a good plan,” she agrees, then opens her mouth to continue—but stops. Finally, she goes on, thank God. “You don’t really need to take me to choose your bed, Nero. I’ll be happy lying on whichever one you pick.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” I ask, extending my hand. Nina takes it and returns to my arms. “That I considered your opinion important?”
“When you put it like that, it makes me sound ridiculous.”
“Talk to me, Little Fae,” I ask softly, fitting her chin between my thumb and forefinger so her eyes won’t run from mine again.
“It’s not just the bed, Nero. It’s the apartment—it’s you thinking you need my opinion to decide something as important as where you’re going to live.
You spent days sleeping cramped in a single bed in my pink bedroom because you wanted to be with me.
I’d do the same—I’d be happy with whatever you chose. ”
“So it really is about me wanting your opinion,” I say, considering it. She bites her lip. “I thought we’d already agreed that we’re a couple.”
“This is a bit more than just being a couple.”
“And why is that a problem?” Nina swallows at my question. Unable to turn away, she only averts her eyes.
“It just feels too soon.”
“Too soon for what?”
“For things this definitive.”
“I didn’t realize we were limiting ourselves to temporary things.”
“That’s not it… It’s just—” She looks back at me. “Forget it,” she asks, resting her forehead against my chest. I pull her even closer and kiss her hair.
“If this is about your dreams—about you worrying this island might become too small for them—nothing stops us from buying a bed somewhere else, Little Fae. Or a couch. Or a nightstand.” Nina lifts her face from my chest and tilts her head to look at me.
“A nightstand?” she asks.
“Yes. A nightstand.”
“Why a nightstand?” I narrow my eyes, a small smile already forming.
“Do you have something against nightstands, Little Fae?” Nina laughs and shakes her head.
“No, Nero. I have nothing against nightstands.”
***
My phone screen remains as empty of Nina’s notifications as it’s been all day while I drive through Khione’s streets. No replies to my messages, no calls, no returned calls from the ones she didn’t answer. She hasn’t even seen the messages I sent.
This can’t be about the apartment—at least not yet. A mix of frustration and irritation at my own helplessness floods my veins, sparked by a problem I can’t even identify.
It’s a split-second decision. I take the turn toward Nina’s house instead of heading home, even though it’s already past nine at night.
It’s her day off, and Nina told me she’d be busy—but what could she possibly be doing that makes replying to a message impossible? I can’t imagine anything.
The worry in my chest is unfounded, I know that. If something had happened, the news would’ve reached me at lightning speed. Khione’s gossip spirit wouldn’t allow anything else. Still, I can’t force myself to turn around and go home.
I just need to see her, make sure she’s okay, and leave.
I reach her house in ten minutes. Through the windows, I see the lights on. I turn off the engine but don’t get out. I know it’s a pointless hesitation. Whether I knock or not, tomorrow Nina will know I was here—because once again, Khione’s gossip never fails.
Before I can open my door and head for the steps of the tall, white-walled house, my eyes catch—just a few meters away—the silhouette of a body I can recognize at any distance by now, walking slowly toward me.
That should be enough. I said seeing Nina would be enough.
But not only does it make no sense to drive off, the closer she gets—distracted—the more intrigued I am about her disappearance today, and how the fact that she’s out at this hour connects to it.
She said she’d be busy. Why didn’t she mention she’d be going out? Nina is carrying a backpack. Was she out all day?
The questions pile up, and coupled with the fact that I’m sitting in my car, parked at her door without plans, I feel like an obsessive stalker—but I can’t stop them.
Nina only notices me when she reaches her door. She startles, momentarily frightened by my car.
“Nero,” she says, startled.
“Hi, Little Fae,” I greet, opening the car door and walking toward her.
“I wasn’t expecting to find you here.” Even under the streetlights, I can see the apprehension on her face, which only multiplies the unanswered questions in my head. I don’t voice them. I extend my hand toward her.
She looks at my palm, hesitant, then turns her head side to side, as if checking for witnesses—and I remember. Discretion, right.
I let my hand fall back to my side, irritation boiling in my stomach at not being able to touch her.
I’m not irritated with Nina—I’m irritated with the situation. With the lack of information, with the doubts, with the unfamiliar ache gnawing at me.
She seems to sense that I need something and steps closer—still leaving a good foot of space between us. Her hand cups my cheek and Nina brushes our lips together softly.
I close my eyes, breathing her in even though she’s farther than I want. I want her pressed against me—her body wrapped in mine, her scent embedded in my skin, her mouth sealed to mine.
Despite all of it, I don’t lift my hands to touch her, because I know the moment I feel her warmth, discretion will go straight to hell.
“I was worried about you, Nina,” I say, opening my eyes. “You disappeared all day.”
“I needed to take care of a few things.” What things? The question sits on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it. If she wanted to tell me, she would have.
There’s an almost guilty look on her face. Nina draws a deep breath, and the distance between us turns into an even worse sensation.
“Stay with me tonight?” I ask, needing to end the tightness inside me. “We can go to a hotel—we can leave the island, if you want.” Anything. We can do anything, as long as it means I get to touch her. Her teeth catch her lower lip before she answers.
“I can’t, Nero,” she says, but the anguish on her face tells me she wants to, even if her body language gives me no proof.
“Are you okay?” I ask—I need to know. She gives me a calming smile.
“I am.” Nina pauses, sighing. “I’m just tired, dying to drown in your scent, to kiss you properly, and wanting to rip my hair out in frustration because I can’t do that—because this damn island can’t keep its tongue in its mouth.”
The relief her confession brings is so intense it startles me.
I abandon my resolve not to touch her. I lift my hand and cup her cheek, deciding that minimal contact is, indeed, better than none.
“We need to buy that bed.”
“I’d happily sleep on the floor if it meant you’d be by my side—but if I leave here with you at this hour, God only knows what they’ll invent tomorrow morning.
” She leans into the caress and kisses my palm.
“I wouldn’t care if it were just me, Nero.
I swear—let them all go to hell. But I promised my mother. ”
“I know, Little Fae. I know. Hugging you would be great, sleeping with you would be heaven—but I’m satisfied knowing you’re okay. I really was worried,” I say, keeping my eyes on hers to make sure she also understands what I’m not saying: Please don’t disappear like this again.
“I’m sorry about that. It was a hectic day.”
“Can I ask—doing what?” Nina shrugs, the sudden stiffness in her shoulders betraying how little indifferent she is about whatever she’s choosing not to tell me.
“I was just taking care of a few things,” she repeats.
Now it’s my turn to bite my lower lip. I nod.
“I should go,” I say.
She nods, kisses my palm once more, and steps back. I tilt my head, warning her of what I’m about to do, before closing the distance and fitting our lips together in a kiss that reverberates through my entire body. Nina lets out a soft moan, just as needy for more as I am.
“Good night, Little Fae.”
“Good night, boyfriend,” she answers in a frustrated sigh—and it draws a restrained smile of satisfaction from me.
I get back into the car, but I watch her for nearly a full minute before starting the engine. With every meter the wheels carry me over the cobblestones, frustration floods my veins and grows stronger.
Although I’ve always called Khione’s gossip spirit a curse, this is the first time in my life I truly see it that way.