LOGINZara's POVI don’t remember leaving his office.One moment I am standing there, frozen, watching the hurt in his eyes. The next, I am in the elevator, pressing the button for the parking garage over and over, my hands shaking so badly I almost drop my keys."Go home, Zara." His voice echoes in my head. "I am not asking. I am telling you."I’m already driving before I realize I have started the engine. The city blurs past me: red lights, stop signs, pedestrians, but my mind is still in his office, still replaying the way he looked at me when I told him about Liam. The concern in his voice and the way he said my name like a plea.“He would be a good father,” I think, if he knew.I push the thought away. I cannot afford to think about that now. I have to get home and check on Liam. I have to—My phone buzzes in the cupholder, and I glance at it at a red light.Valerio: Text me when you get home. Let me know how he is.I stare at the message for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the k
Zara’s POVI jolt awake to Liam’s small body burning against mine.The clock on his nightstand glows 3:17 a.m., and his skin feels like fire. I press my palm to his forehead, and my stomach drops. The fever has spiked hard, his cheeks flushed scarlet, his breathing shallow and fast. He whimpers in his sleep, tiny fists clutching my shirt tightly, and my heart breaks at the sight. "Mommy..." he whimpers, eyes still closed."I'm here, baby. I'm right here.” I whisper, voice cracking as I sit up and gather him closer, his little body trembling. I strip him down to his diaper, press a cool cloth to his forehead, and reach for the thermometer on the bedside table. I watch the numbers climb…103.8. Panic claws up my throat.I rock him gently, humming the lullaby he loves even though my voice shakes, while he makes soft, pained sounds that break my heart. I grab the children’s fever reducer and manage to get some into him with a sippy cup of water. He drinks a little, then curls back agains
Valerio's POVI take the long way, circling the block twice before I finally force myself to park. Every red light feels like a warning, and every turn feels like a mistake. I tell myself I am doing the right thing. Clara is my fiancée, and Zara does not want me.But none of it helps. My hands grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ache. Zara's face keeps burning behind my eyes, the way she looked at me in the dim hallway, lips parted, breath trembling, her body so close I could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her clothes. The way her voice cracked when she told me to leave. “Leave, Valerio.”I had almost kissed her; I had almost said fuck the rule, fuck the consequences, fuck everything, but…she pushed me away. “She told you to leave,” I murmur to myself, the thought like a knife twisting in my chest. “She doesn’t want you.”I should feel relieved, but the rejection feels like acid in my stomach.I pull up outside Clara's building and kill the engine. For a lo
Zara’s POV The apartment door clicks shut behind me, and I lean against it for a second, eyes closed, trying to steady the storm inside my chest. Valerio’s silent treatment is having an effect on me, and I shouldn't care, but that's not it, because I saw how he looked at me across his desk, like he's fighting the same pull. Then he asked about Liam and that tiny part of me that still clings to the past gets hope. I had texted that Liam wasn't well, and that I might be late to work though I made it just in time. I drop my bag and walk straight to Liam’s room. He’s awake, propped up against pillows with flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. Mrs. Rivera sits beside him, reading in a soft voice. The moment he sees me, his little face lights up, even through the discomfort. “Mommy,” he croaks, reaching for me. I cross the room in three strides and pull him into my arms, holding him tight against my chest, his small body warm, too warm. The guilt hits me like a physical blow. I've been aw
Valerio’s POVI barely slept. The coffee she made sat on my desk until it went cold, and I could not bring myself to throw it away before leaving the office.Now, the penthouse feels like a cage this morning.I stand at the window with a cup of black coffee gone cold in my hand, watching the city wake up below. Tokyo was a mistake, not the deal, that is progressing exactly as planned. The mistake was bringing Zara along, because those three days of proximity have just made it everything weird, and the whole scandal has left me torn between following my instincts and acting like the good gentleman that I am. Now, I have to keep my distance and act like I didn’t want her in all the ways known to man. “Perché non riesco a staccarmi da te?” (Why can't I pull away from you?) I murmur into the bedroom while pacing the length of the room. My thoughts keep circling back to her like muscle memory. I set the coffee down untouched and walk to my desk, the old photo still hidden in the drawer.
Zara's POVThe morning after the statement is everywhere—all the screens in the lobby, the photographer’s face pale and shaking as he admits he was paid, his face plastered on magazine covers. The board is satisfied, the story is dead, but something else is different. Valerio is already in his office when I arrive, standing by the windows, his back to me, hands in his pockets, and doesn’t acknowledge my presence through the glass wall like he always does. Not even a nod. “It’s fine,” I murmur to myself while I settle into my chair, “This is what you wanted, remember? Professional distance and safety.” But I can’t shake the weird feeling pooling inside my stomach. The morning passes in a blur; I handle emails, reports, and scheduling meetings while Valerio stays in his office without a word, and on the few times he comes out, he moves through the office like I am invisible. I try to focus on my work, drowning myself in all the tasks. I update the calendar, file documents, but my m
Valerio's POVI’m definitely going to lose my mind if I get to her end and she actually doesn’t want to go out with me. I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom, adjusting the collar of my dark shirt for the third time. The second one was too casual, and the first one was somewhere in between,
Valerio’s POVI can’t get her out of my fucking head.Zara Matthews.Even her name feels like it belongs to my mouth. I stand at the window of my penthouse, whiskey in hand, staring at the city sprawled below me like scattered diamonds. The glass is cold against my palm, and my mind refuses to sett
Zara’s POVI managed to make it to the ladies’ room on the executive floor before my legs gave out. I lock myself in the last stall, press my forehead against the cool metal door, and take in deep breaths. I’ve got this. I won’t falter.Welcome back.The bastard has no idea what those two words di
I grip the steering wheel so tight that it makes my knuckles ache. The city blurs past my window—steel towers and honking traffic that feels both familiar and wrong after three years. I should have turned around at the last exit.I almost did.But the envelope in my bag, the one with Liam’s latest







