Seventeen
Ara
Parmesan yellow.
I hadn’t heard that name for a colour before I leased this house. But it suits the place—warm, inviting, and just a touch unusual.
The house itself feels like a dream: nestled in a charming cul-de-sac, with a front porch framed by flower bushes and a lone, elegant cypress tree standing sentinel at the side. Everything about it exudes quiet perfection—the symmetrical garden bordering the walkway, the grey clay tiles of the gable roof, and the white awnings that make it seem both timeless and welcoming.
Inside, it’s just the right size. The ground floor has a cosy living room, a guest bathroom, and a kitchen. Upstairs, there are two bedrooms, each with its own attached bath. The backdoor leads to a small patio and a patch of lawn that gently slopes toward the lake—the heart of this entire neighbourhood. The water stretches endlessly, mirroring the sky, serene and steady.
It’s not grand. I didn’t need grand. I needed comfort, familiarity, and a sense of community. And by some twist of luck, Ivy rents the house right across from mine.
That makes everything easier. No need to worry about babysitters for Cas when I’m working late in the lab—once he settles in and gets used to having Ivy around.
And somehow, this quiet little house already feels like home.
“Ughh,”
I press my shoulder against the Croton bin, straining to push it, but it doesn’t budge—not even an inch. In hindsight, I probably should have planted it in the oversized container on the porch instead of directly in the garden.
Now, the thought of hauling it over the porch steps makes me shudder. If I can’t even shift it from here, how on earth am I going to get it up there?
“Need some help?”
I yelp, jumping at the sudden voice behind me. My heart leaps into my throat as I spin around to find Eero leaning casually against the white fence, an amused smile playing on his handsome face.
Pressing a hand over my chest, I try to steady my thudding heartbeat.
I can't help but wonder how men like him manage to move so quietly. It’s as if they’ve mastered the art of creeping up on people.
Stealth training must be part of their curriculum . Do they teach things like this along with all the other lessons in mafia school?
I should hope so, the concept of killing and trampling on people that come naturally to certain lineage scares the bejesus out of me.
"You scared me," I mutter, more to myself than to him.
Eero chuckles.
“I see you’ve got yourself in a bit of a situation,” he teases, pushing off the fence.
I sigh, casting a tired glare at the stubborn plant. “You think?”
Without another word, he walks over to the massive Croton, crouches slightly, and lifts the heavy container with ease—as if it weighs nothing at all. I blink, momentarily stunned by how effortlessly he manages what I’ve been struggling with for half an hour.
“Where do you want it, madam professor ?” He glances over his shoulder with a smug grin.
I roll my eyes at the nickname.
“By the front door. On the right side.”
Eero carries the pot to the spot I pointed out and sets it down gently.
“Perfect,” I say, walking up to him. “Thanks. Seriously.”
He leans against the porch railing, arms crossed, looking far too at ease.
“So,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “What are you doing here?”
I push open the front door, unable to stop the smile that spreads across my face as I take in the inside. In my old apartment, space was tight, and there wasn’t much room to decorate it the way I wanted. But with this house? The possibilities felt endless.
I still remember the sweet old landlord, winking as he handed me the keys. “Spruce it up, darlin’.” And I did.
The front door opens into a cozy space that feels entirely mine. To the right is the living room, and to the left, a sitting area I’ve painted a deep, moody green. In contrast, the living room walls are a soft, pale pink—the perfect balance of warmth and calm.
The sitting area has a small hearth, with two couches facing each other in front of it, inviting conversation or quiet evenings by the fire. Bay windows frame the walls on either side of the door, and I’ve filled them with colourful cushions, turning them into the kind of cozy nooks I used to dream about.
Beyond the spiral staircase—directly across from the front door—is my favourite part of the house: the kitchen. Big and open, with checkered floors and sage green and white cabinets. It’s the heart of the home, warm and welcoming. Cooking always made me feel close to Mom, and I want to pass that on to Cas—to create the same kind of happy memories she gave me.
Upstairs, I’ve kept my bedroom simple. Beige and white, with a touch of minimalistic boho charm. It’s peaceful, just how I like it.
Cas’s room, though—that’s Ivy’s project. She’s painting it, and she’s adamant I’m not allowed to see it until she’s finished.
I trust her completely. She’s an incredible artist, and I know she’ll make his room perfect. After all, it’s the most important room in the house.
“This is quite a cute little place you’ve got, love,” he compliments.
“Right? Thank you, Eero.” I smile at the man as I gesture to him on the couch set in the living room.
Mounted on the wall opposite the couches is a large flat-screen TV, delivered just yesterday. Cas has been obsessed with Animal Planet lately, and I want him to have the best things I can provide.
Eero strolls further into the room, pausing near the pile of wooden planks stacked behind the couch. He glances at it with a raised brow before dropping onto one of the couches, draping his arm casually along the backrest.
“That’s the bookshelf I need to assemble,” I explain, nodding toward the chaotic heap of parts.
Eero tilts his head, inspecting the mess. “Hate to break it to you, but it looks like shite.”
“I know.” I groan, shooting a glare at the deep, rich brown wood that’s been haunting me since last night. “I followed the instructions to the T, and it still wouldn’t hold up.”
He chuckles, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Want me to take a look at it?”
I arch a skeptical brow, giving him a deliberate once-over. His loose-fitting, beige formal shirt is tucked neatly into dark beige pants, the first three buttons undone, revealing a hint of tanned skin and a chain around his neck. His fingers glint with rings — more than any man should probably wear — and his loafers scream money. The sunglasses dangling from his shirt complete the look.
He looks less like a handyman and more like he just stepped off the pages of some luxury fashion spread.
“You?” I ask, disbelief laced in my tone.
Eero presses a hand to the right side of his chest, feigning hurt. “You think I can’t assemble a silly bookcase? You wound me, darling.”
I roll my eyes. “Wrong side, genius.”
He glances down, realising his mistake, then grins. “Can’t point to something I don’t have.” He winks and pushes to his feet, stretching his arms.
I can’t help but smile at his antics. He’s trouble, no doubt about it. But at least he’s trouble with a good sense of humour.
Eero slides his sunglasses off and places them on the coffee table before crouching in front of the pile of wooden planks. He tilts his head slightly as if the heap of wood might reveal its secrets if he stares at it long enough.
I head to the kitchen to grab the toolbox, returning to find him already tossing aside the instruction sheet with a muttered "Useless."
A smile tugs at my lips as I hand him a screwdriver. He takes it without looking up, his boyishly handsome face scrunched in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth.
There’s something disarmingly familiar about it. It tugs at a long-forgotten memory, pulling me back to a time when life was simpler—when I had a swarm of cousins constantly at my side. We were a noisy, wild bunch, always running around, getting into trouble, trying to outdo each other in everything.
Then Papa got rich. And people started showing their true colours. The laughter faded, and one by one, the cousins drifted away, revealing that blood ties aren’t always strong enough to survive ambition and greed.
I sigh quietly, brushing away the ache that creeps in at the edges of that memory.
I miss those goofy boys who chased after me, insisting on copying everything I did. They filled the space where a brother should’ve been—a space that’s been hollow ever since they left.
“Behold the masterpiece,” Ivy tries to mimic some deep voice as she descends the staircase.
I glance at her and struggle to suppress my laughter as she continues, adding what she clearly thinks are grand trumpet sounds. Instead, it sounds like a dying kazoo.
Her outfit—jean shorts and a white shirt tied above her navel—is splattered with paint. There’s white on her cheek, red on her chin, and streaks of blue on her forearm. Even her bandana looks like it’s been attacked by a colour palette. She’s barefoot like me, carefree and completely at home in this chaos we’ve created. When she notices Eero behind me, she lets out a low whistle — the same one she learned from him.
“Look what the cat dragged into our neighbourhood,” she quips with a grin.
I glance at Eero, remembering how Ivy told me he had dropped by regularly while I was in the hospital—even when I was asleep—just to check on me. It gave them plenty of time to bond, and they’ve become quick friends since. They’ve even exchanged numbers, texting each other dumb memes and inside jokes I’m clearly not privy to.
I’d asked Ivy once if there was anything romantic between them, but she scrunched up her nose as if I’d suggested something truly offensive.
“Sexy, yes. But nah,” she’d said, waving it off. “He’s more like a partner-in-crime. My meme dealer.”
I’m sure that is because her eyes have been busy fixating on some other devilishly charming man, but I don’t dare say that out loud. Where Iblis is concerned, Ivy’s like a ticking bomb, ready to go off at any moment.
I have no idea what the man did to successfully crawl down her skin. One minute she hates him and the other minute she cannot stop thinking or obsessing over him.
“What is this masterpiece you’re talking about?” Eero cocks his head, an amused glint in his face.
It is a nice reprieve to see the absence of the psycho-killer maniac smile on his face that scared the wits out of me initially. It is still slightly weird that we are friends with this man, but Eero has the knack to slither into the tiniest cracks and shove himself into our lives and make us feel good about it. He is goofy, childish, fun and humorous.
He is also deeply caring and observant. It makes it easy for me to forget who he is and what he does.
“Follow me,” Ivy motions us with her head.
We climb the stairs, heading to the north side of the floor, where the L-shaped master bedroom dominates, its massive windows overlooking the street. Cas's room, to the left of the bannister, is slightly smaller than mine but perfect for the blanket fort I plan to build for him.
As Ivy leads us to Cas’s room, I can’t help but gasp at the transformation. She’s spent three days working on it, armed only with the vague instruction that Cas loves space and stars. Now, the room looks like a mini planetarium.
The walls and ceiling are painted black, depicting twinkling stars, planets, and star clusters. The ceiling, with its swirling hues of blue, orange, pink, and white, is breathtaking, perfectly capturing the beauty of nebulae.
“This isn’t it,” Ivy says, closing the curtains and turning off the lights.
I gasp again, tears stinging my eyes as white stars begin to twinkle in the dark.
“I got glow-in-the-dark paint and worked some magic. Do you like it?”
Ivy’s nervous smile makes me laugh through my tears. Without thinking, I pull her into a tight hug.
“Like it? I love it! Thank you so much, Ives. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I already know,” she says, relaxing as she pats my back and hugs me with a soft laugh.
Eero, standing off to the side, smirks. “Alright, I’m allergic to this mushy stuff. I’m heading downstairs to finish assembling. Brilliant work, love.”
Ivy thanks him as he leaves, but I’m still staring at the room, words failing me. Cas is going to love this. And her.
“Wow. Just wow.”
Ivy blushes, turning away to clear her throat, obviously uncomfortable with the praise.
“Cas is going to love it,” I say softly.
Her hopeful eyes meet mine. She hasn’t met him yet but is already so invested, nervous that he won’t like her.
“Really?”
“Of course,” I say, pulling her into another hug as we head downstairs. “And he’s going to love his aunt too.”
She tries to turn her head away, but I catch the tears anyway.
* * *
“The only pictures I can see are of, Mr Vesper,”
Ivy air quotes his last name as she scrolls down her iPad.
After Eero assembled the bookshelf in record time and pushed it to the spot I pointed at, he wandered around the house. He found a few leaky pipes that I hadn’t noticed during my first inspection. I was shocked when he showed me the damp spots and explained how they might damage the walls and cause trouble in the future. Despite my assurance that I’d call a plumber, he insisted on fixing them, saying he wasn’t just a pretty face. Ivy groaned beside me as he disappeared with the tool kit and muttered, “Why can’t I want him?”
I’ve been meaning to ask what that meant.
We head downstairs and collapse onto the chairs on my back patio, savouring one of the rare sunny days in Walius. The sun is beginning to set, its warm rays lingering on our sweat-slicked skin as I settle into my chair with a glass of lemonade in hand.
Ivy’s taken it upon herself to dig into the lives of the men we were once terrified of, under the pretence of "getting to know her friend better." We both know it’s hogwash, but I let her cling to her little delusion.
God knows I’ve lived in mine long enough—like convincing myself that Mr. Devlin found me attractive.
I snort into my glass, barely able to believe my own stupidity.
“He’s got quite good taste in women. This woman runs a fucking gallery upstate,”
She shoves the iPad under my nose. Before I could see the woman she was talking about, she takes the gadget back and continues to scroll.
“And this one is a hot-shot lawyer running to be a Mayor,” she lets out an impressive whistle.
“Do I sense something?” I narrow my eyes at her.
She started this search under the guise of wanting to understand how the entire clan operates. She could’ve just asked Eero—I’m sure he would’ve given her the basics—but no. Instead, she conveniently lands on Iblis Vesper.
The very man she claims she doesn’t like. The man she insists terrifies her. The man who made her quit her job.
Apparently, Iblis decided she might become a problem for his boss and took it upon himself to handle the situation. His way of handling things? Intimidating and bullying her into submission until she had no choice but to walk away from her work.
No wonder I can’t stand him. Beneath all that charm lies a snake, coiled and ready to strike when you least expect it.
She turns to me, her eyes wide as if she is shocked by my words. “Sense what?”
“An interest in a certain someone who you claim to hate, but I see otherwise,” I raise my brows.
She looks deep in thought.
We’ve moved beyond denying what we feel with each other, that’s not how our friendship works. It’s been built on trust, on honesty, no matter how messy it gets. I’ve trusted this woman enough to share my demons, at least some of them, something I’ve never done with anyone except my sister. And she’s trusted me enough to show me the skeletons in her closet.
We don’t play games. We don’t pretend something isn’t there.
If we feel something, we acknowledge it. We process it together if we have to.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t entertain the thought of it.”
I let out a sigh.
I know the appeal a bad boy holds. Especially the kind who hides razor-sharp edges beneath sweet words and an air of danger. And Iblis Vesper? He’s a devil’s henchman clad in Brioni. I can see why Ivy would be interested in him.
But that doesn’t mean it won’t blow up in her face. Like it did with all her other boyfriends.
“Ivy, darling,” I say, gently. “When I say this, it comes from a place of love. But your choice in men is horrendous.”
She gasps, clutching her chest dramatically. “It’s not!”
I raise a brow and start counting on my fingers.
“There was the guy who used your card to pay off his debts to loan sharks.”
“He got caught by the police,” she argues, but her voice is weak.
“And what did they do? He didn’t have a single cent to his name. All they did was send him to jail, and you were stuck with the debt for months.”
“Fine, he sucked.” She blows out her cheeks like a pouting child.
“There was the physical abuser,” I add, holding up another finger.
“He never hit me! The one time he tried, I broke his arm.” She lifts her chin as if it’s a badge of honour.
“The skateboard in his trashy apartment did.”
“You said it counted!”
“I was throwing you a bone!” I snap, my voice rising.
I glance at her and catch her looking down at her iPad, brows scrunched like she’s seriously thinking it over.
Oh God, she’s serious.
As if you have any moral high ground. As if you weren’t thirsting after the devil himself.
I shove the nagging voice aside. I can’t control my emotions—or my hormones, apparently—but I can control my actions. That day in the casino was a one-off slip, fuelled by alcohol and stupidity.
What a load of bull.
I push the thought away again.
“Iblis seems like a gentleman,” Ivy says, tapping her iPad thoughtfully. “He handles diplomatic issues, and he’s always in the company of powerful people.”
I gape at her. “Are you insane? Do you forget who his boss is? What he does ? And what ‘diplomacy’ are you talking about? The kind where he terrorised you out of your job?”
Ivy shrugs. “He might not be as bad as his boss.”
“Ivy, they’ve killed people. Hung their bodies. ” I shudder, unable to relive that night fully.
She arches a brow. “The man who did that is currently upstairs fixing your plumbing.”
“And neither of us is interested in dating him! Eero is a friend—a safe friend. There’s a difference.”
“But—”
“Are we really having this conversation? Me trying to steer you away from a criminal? You were a bloody crime reporter, for heaven’s sake! Have some shame!”
Ivy sighs, leaning back in her chair.
“I don’t plan on dating him, Ara. He’s not the kind of person you can be with and not get hurt.”
I nod, relieved we’re on the same page.
From what I’ve seen, these men aren’t like the ones we meet in our everyday lives. They’re intense, more in touch with their primal instincts. I can’t say exactly how that shapes their behaviour, but one thing is certain—whatever drives them isn’t anything good for us to get tangled up with.
Since we are already on the topic of men, I shift in my seat to face her. A quick glance behind me confirmed that Eero was nowhere in sight.
Good.
I like to keep my dating affairs private. Especially after that disaster in college.
“Sean asked me out on a date.”
Ivy’s head snaps toward me, her eyes wide as saucers. “Dr. Lloyd?”
I nod, and her face instantly splits into a teasing grin. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. I was with Cas, and I didn’t know what to say.”
Her brows knit in confusion. “Don’t you like him?”
“I do. But…” I hesitate, my voice quieter now. “Is it right for me to date? Now that I have Cas? Shouldn’t I be investing all my energy into raising him?”
Ivy reaches out, resting her hand on my knee. Her touch is grounding and steady.
“There’s nothing wrong with looking after yourself, Ara. Having a kid doesn’t mean you stop living your life.”
I bite down on my lower lip, lost in thought. The insecurities I’ve buried deep surfaced again yesterday, and it’s been hard to push them away.
Why would Sean want to date me? Why would he break his own rules for me? I’m sure he has plenty of prospects—women who are prettier and far less complicated.
I’m not anything special. Not to look at. Not to be with.
Ivy’s voice cuts through my spiral of doubt.
“I know that fucker Burke did a number on you. But don’t let it hold you back. From what I’ve seen, Sean seems like a decent guy, and I’m pretty sure he’s not a jerk.”
That’s true.
It’s just a date.
But deep down, I know there’s more to it.
I set my lemonade on the table, turning to watch the lake. The setting sun casts brilliant shades of red and gold on the water’s still surface. Birds fly low across the horizon, heading toward the light.
The words slip out before I can stop them. “That’s not it.”
Ivy doesn’t push. She waits.
So I tell her everything about the other night—about Zagan. About the kiss that wasn’t even on the lips, and how I still let him come closer. About the disgust in his eyes afterwards.
I was sober enough to stop him. But I didn’t.
From the corner of my eye, I see Ivy’s expression shift—anger flashing across her features. But she’s also studying me, gauging my reaction.
She won’t find anything. I’ve mastered the art of keeping my face blank when my insides are in chaos.
When she finally speaks, her voice is calm but firm.
“I don’t know why the fuck he’d kiss you and then act angry about it. I don’t care. What matters is who wants you and is willing to voice it out, Ara.”
I nod slowly. She’s right.
“Besides,” she continues, “these men are trouble. They’re unreadable, fucked in the head, and—most of all—not right for us.”
I nod again, more decisively this time. I’ll give Sean a call tonight.
I’ll accept his request for a date.
Sean Lloyd is more than decent. He’s kind. Warm. Understanding. Handsome. And genuine.
The kind of good I need in my life.
I’ve taken a step forward by bringing Cas into my world. Maybe it’s time to let love back in, too. I can’t give Burke more power. I won’t let him—or what he did—rule me anymore.
After a long silence, Ivy speaks again. Hesitant
“Do you want to act on your… other interest?”
Before she finishes the sentence, I’m already shaking my head.
“I don’t put myself in situations where I can be tempted by the devil.”
Because I know I’m not strong enough to resist.
I don’t add the last part. Ivy nods in understanding.
Both of us turn when we hear something clatter on the counter behind us. Eero uncaps a water bottle, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, and gulps it down before tossing the bottle into the trash.
“All done,” he announces.
“Thanks a lot, Eero.” I smile, genuinely grateful.
“It’s a pleasure, sweetheart.”
Eero steps onto the back patio, admiring the lake view. I scoop chicken biryani onto three plates, carrying two outside. Ivy grabs hers eagerly, grinning.
“Buckle up, mister. This is the best food you’ll ever have,” she teases.
Eero’s curious expression shifts to blissful surprise after his first bite. “This is… fuck, this is amazing.”
Cooking always connects me to Mom. It’s comforting, grounding. If science hadn’t worked out, I’d have pursued being a chef. Feeding others feels like sharing a piece of myself.
When I return with my plate, Eero is helping himself to seconds, flashing a rare boyish grin. “Can I have more?”
“Help yourself.”
We finish our meal as dusk settles, the lake reflecting deepening hues. For a moment, everything feels still. Peaceful.
As Eero gathers his things, I hand him a small invitation. His brow furrows.
“I’ve adopted a child,” I explain. “His name is Cas. I’d love for you to come to his welcome home party.”
His gaze softens as he pockets the card, something unspoken in his eyes. “You want me there?”
“Of course. Nico’s invited too, but no pressure.”
Eero nods, then hesitates. “Can I trouble you for leftovers? That was the best meal I’ve ever had.”
Blushing, I pack two boxes. Ivy leans on the counter, watching.
“Just in case you get hungry again,” I say, trying to sound casual.
Eero arches a brow, amused. “Want me to give this to the boss man?”
My cheeks burn. “What? No! I mean… if you want to. It’s not for him specifically—just… take it.”
His low chuckle fills the room. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
After ruffling my hair, he leaves. Ivy grins, clearly enjoying my embarrassment.
“You’re never living that down,” she quips.
That night, even after sending a message to Sean and accepting his request, it was Zagan I couldn’t stop thinking about. The kiss. His scent. The overwhelming power he radiates. Every time I push the thoughts away, they creep back.
My phone buzzes.
Eero: Boss stole my food and he won’t give it back!
Despite myself, I smile at the message. The tension eases, and finally, I close my eyes, letting sleep take me.