CHAPTER 6
NERO ZANTHOS
I adjust the cuffs of my shirt beneath the tuxedo jacket as the driver pulls up in front of the house with white walls and white steps. The entryway is dark, as are the windows and the small antechamber by the door, which makes me frown before opening the door beside me and stepping out of the car.
I climb the steps toward the door knocker. The crease between my brows deepens the closer I get, and the impression that the house is empty starts to feel more and more like a certainty. What the hell?
I raise my hand and lift the knocker, striking it against the wood. For a second, I hesitate—but since I’ve come all this way, I decide to see it through. I knock three times. No response reaches my ears, even after nearly five minutes of waiting.
I turn, surveying the deserted street below and all the surrounding houses, just as dark as the one behind me. Everyone is at the association—or on their way there, of course. I’m on my way there myself. I just hadn’t expected to do it alone. I let out a quiet laugh at myself.
Inviting Nina was an impulse. Seeing the last remaining piece of the few good moments I had in my childhood, after so many years, sparked a sudden urge to prolong the moment.
I couldn’t keep the woman standing at the association door forever, so declaring that she was my guest simply leapt from my mouth. I regretted it afterward, of course—especially after her reaction to our goodbye.
Nina practically fled, and the last thing I wanted was to intimidate her. I remember thinking her eyes were huge when we were children.
What I wasn’t able to see back then was that they’re also incredibly expressive. Or maybe they weren’t. It doesn’t matter. They are now. And the torrent of emotion that crossed them during our brief encounter was nothing short of intriguing.
***
I step out of the car again, and now the scene before me is nothing like what greeted me the first time tonight. Lights are everywhere, illuminating the association building exactly as Christmas demands, and I smile, satisfied.
I slip a hand into my pocket and let my eyes roam over the decorated pine trees scattered along the sidewalk and the fairy lights glowing against the building’s windows. A feeling that rarely visits me tightens in my chest.
I don’t usually let myself remember what this place used to be. When I demolished the orphanage, I took the opportunity to bury most of the memories it stirred. And yet, on Christmas nights, they always insist on visiting—no matter how unwilling I am to host them.
I shake my head, pulling my thoughts back to the present—where there are three idiots who need to explain why they haven’t replied to my messages.
I enter the association, and the shift in posture among the people still in the lobby is immediate.
No island residents are working tonight. All service staff come from outside so the locals can attend the party as guests. They’re the ones who look at me as if I were some kind of deity—and that’s just one more thing I’ve learned to stop fighting, even though it makes no sense to me.
I smile and nod, making my way into the main hall where the party truly unfolds: the inner courtyard. At the center of the building, it’s surrounded by balconies from the upper floors, where more of the celebration spills out onto the terraces.
I scan the ground floor and quickly find what I’m looking for.
What surprises me, however, is finding Nina there—with Atlas, Apollo, and Drako. The woman I went to pick up. The woman who wasn’t waiting for me.
After standing me up, it would make sense for her to keep her distance. I narrow my eyes and move toward the group.
I’m intercepted only a few steps later by a couple of island residents.
“Mr. Nero Zanthos! What a beautiful party!” the woman says with a smile, and I nod. “The association outdid itself this year.”
“The community did a wonderful job,” I reply—because it’s true. The Christmas party is built by every resident of Khione. The association merely organizes it and provides the space.
“Don’t be modest, Mr. Nero Zanthos,” the man adds. “Without you, none of this would exist. We’re very grateful.”
I offer a small smile, choosing not to respond.
“Enjoy the party,” I say instead, widening my smile before stepping away.
The short distance between me and the group I want to reach becomes something of an obstacle course. Every two or three steps, new people approach, demanding my attention—even if only for five minutes.
It doesn’t bother me. It’s just that the closer I get, the stronger the urge to reach them grows—and I keep being prevented from doing so.
My eyes refuse to stray from Nina for long. So I speak with each guest who approaches while remaining acutely aware of where my gaze keeps returning.
She’s not a girl anymore.
That much was clear this afternoon. But now, seeing her small, curvy body inside the long dress that highlights not only her skin tone and hair, but every one of her curves, it’s impossible not to reinforce that thought.
She’s beautiful.
Eventually, my gaze slides from her to my friends’ faces, searching for any sign of deeper interest. I’ve known them long enough to read intention in their expressions.
They’re laughing about something, chatting easily. Even after watching Apollo with doubled attention, I find nothing beyond the same pleasure I myself felt upon seeing Nina again.
It shouldn’t satisfy me—but it does.
It takes nearly an hour before I finally reach them.
“Look who finally showed up,” Drako says, grinning far too widely for my liking the moment his eyes land on me. The other three pairs of eyes turn my way.
Two things stand out immediately. The provocative smiles on each of my friends’ faces—and the color that suddenly warms Nina’s cheeks and collarbone.
“We found her before you did,” Apollo says with a mocking tone. “You should’ve come with us. You’d have seen her sooner.” He throws his head back in laughter, and the other two idiots join him. Even Atlas lets out a quiet chuckle.
Nina, however, blinks and looks from them to me, as if she has no idea what they’re talking about.
“I went to your house to pick you up,” I explain—and her eyes widen.
“To pick me up?” she asks, genuinely surprised, and suddenly things make a bit more sense in my head.
“That’s how we treat guests, isn’t it?” Her heart-shaped lips part into a perfect O as she processes my words.
She really didn’t know.
The laughter beside me makes me shoot a reprimanding look at Apollo and Drako—especially since Atlas is wearing nothing more than an ironic smile. None of them are fazed.
I shake my head before focusing all my attention back on the woman in front of me.
“I—I didn’t understand it that way,” Nina says, embarrassment coloring her entire face.
“Probably because he didn’t explain,” Drako cuts in, pausing his laughter just long enough to answer for me. “We warned him!”
“I’m sorry,” she says after hearing what my idiot friend had to add, and I sigh.
“It’s all right. This is one of the rare occasions when Drako is right. I don’t think I was very clear.”
She gives me a small smile—and it’s that smile that makes me act on impulse for the second time today when it comes to this woman.
“So let me try again,” I say. “Would you like to be my date tonight, Nina?”