Chapter 6 A Hug He Can’t Steal

The glass door slid open with a soft whisper.

Night air slapped my face like a warning—cold, bitter, personal. I stepped onto the terrace, wearing Zade’s sweater, the one that hung down to my thighs. I tucked the sleeves under my palms, hiding fingers that were either cold or nervous. Who could tell the difference?

Behind me, from the living room, Zoey’s laughter exploded—high-pitched, messy, and so alive. It was followed by Zade’s fake monster growl, sending her squealing and stumbling across the rug.

I closed my eyes for a second.

That should’ve been enough. That warmth. That noise that sounded like home. This house. Zade.

But ever since “Rhys” arrived, my mind had been stuck on loop like a broken radio. The echo of a past I buried deep was now standing a few feet from my kitchen, smiling with a fake name and God knew what kind of plan behind it.

Darius Morrano never showed up without a reason. Especially not like this. Like a ghost who didn’t rise from the grave for peace… but to remind you how easily he could destroy the calm you built from the wreckage he left behind.

Was he here because of me?

Or because of Zade?

Because he knew. Of course he knew. Who Zade was. The former kingpin who now wore three-thousand-dollar suits and ran Neroil Industries like he hadn’t once been the devil of southern Italy.

But Darius wasn’t a choirboy either. He ruled his own empire. Don Morrano. Head of Morrano Empires. And I, the unlucky idiot, was the woman who had once slept with two sworn enemies in different beds.

Perfect.

I sighed and walked to the edge of the terrace. Moonlight scattered across the stone floor like shards of ice. Somewhere in the distance, Zoey’s toy chirped, followed by her delighted scream and the thud of Zade chasing her back.

Then there was movement on the far side of the terrace.

Footsteps. Quiet. Heavy.

I tensed before I even saw him.

Darius stood a few feet away. Black jacket. Hands in his pockets. His head was turned slightly, eyes on the dark lawn wet with dew. Like he didn’t see me. Like this was some kind of coincidence.

Yeah. And I’m Santa Claus.

I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Wasn’t even sure my heart still had the nerve to beat.

“You sleep awfully well next to my enemy, Aubrey.”

That voice. Flat. Accusing. Laced with wounds he’d never let heal.

I turned to face him. Slowly. “You know what helps me sleep better? Not having a gun under my pillow.”

He turned too. Just as slow. And for one horrifying second, I was yanked back in time .. back to when those eyes were the only place I felt safe. How ironic. How stupid.

“I never hurt you.”

A short, humorless laugh escaped me. “No, you just brought me into a world where everyone else wanted to. But sure, let’s call that different.”

He said nothing.

The wind lifted my hair, and I pulled Zade’s sweater tighter around me.

“Why are you here?” I didn’t bother hiding the edge in my voice. “You think I’m gonna fall into your arms just because you showed up with a fake name and a bodyguard badge?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but a small smile tugged at his lips. Thin. Dangerous. “You think I care about your arms?”

I rolled my eyes. “You should. It’s a damn good hug.”

He chuckled, cold and sharp. “He took everything from me.”

I stepped forward an inch. “Zade didn’t take anything. I’m not something that can be stolen.”

“No?” He leaned in. “Then why are you married to him? Why does he have access to your life… and your daughter?”

My spine went rigid.

He smiled again. He knew he’d hit something.

“Zoey’s not your concern,” I said, my voice cutting down to a blade.

He didn’t respond. But that look in his eyes—it wasn’t a man clinging to a memory. It was someone with a plan.

And for the first time since Darius walked into this house, I wasn’t afraid for myself.

I was afraid for Zade.

For Zoey.

For everything I’d built from the ashes of the man standing in front of me.

Then, I heard footsteps behind me.

Zade’s footsteps were always easy to pick out, even in the middle of a crowded ballroom.

“I get that you like punishing yourself,” he murmured low, his breath grazing the back of my neck like a threat that sounded too much like a promise. “But standing outside in my sweater at thirty-eight degrees isn’t a form of self-care I’m gonna tolerate.”

Before I could answer, his arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me into his chest. Warm. Solid. Possessive in a way that should’ve felt wrong, but didn’t. His body felt like sun-heated stone, and I let my head rest there without thinking. Or maybe thinking too much. Hard to tell.

"I'm just… getting some night air." The lamest excuse a human being could possibly give.

Zade kissed the top of my head, then rested his chin there. "If you want night air, I’ll have Aram install an air conditioner in the bedroom. More hygienic."

I let out a snort. "You know, sometimes you’re almost romantic. But then you talk like a CEO who fell in love with his spreadsheets."

He laughed quietly, the rumble soft against my back. His arms tightened around me. "Come inside, Bee. Your eyes look like a jet-lagged raccoon."

"DADDYYYYY! I NEED TO POOOOP!"

Zoey’s voice shattered the night like a tiny siren with zero manners.

We both froze. I tilted my head and looked at him. "That sound? That’s the soundtrack of our marriage. So hot."

Zade exhaled, but the grin on his face was too stupid to count as frustrated. "Damn. I was two seconds away from kidnapping my own wife for some sleep-cuddling."

"Plot twist," I smirked. "Turns out Zoey needs you more than I do."

But he didn’t move right away. Instead, he pressed a kiss to my temple. Slow. Gentle. So intimate I forgot we weren’t alone on this terrace. I forgot who was standing quietly in the shadows, watching with eyes full of wounds and resentment.

And for the first time tonight, I wanted Darius to see it all.

I wanted him to see the world had moved on without him. That the damage he left had already been wrapped up and tended to by this man. The same hands that were now touching my face like I was the most precious thing he’d ever held.

"I’ll go grab our little monster," he whispered. "You coming? Or you planning to stand out here until you turn into an ice sculpture?"

I pretended to consider. "Ice sculptures are pretty. Lots of angles."

His brow lifted. "So are you. But you’re prettier when you’re asleep."

I sighed dramatically, but the truth was—my brain was still catching up to one small detail.

When Zade held my hand, I didn’t feel guilty. I didn’t hesitate. It didn’t feel like cheating.

In fact, I suddenly realized something—

For five years, Zade’s touch never felt strange to me.

And that wasn’t because I’d gone numb.

He gently pulled me back inside. And when we walked past Darius, I didn’t turn around.

I didn’t need to.

Because for the first time, I knew who I was leaving behind... and exactly who I was choosing to stay for.