The silence between Nova and Jericho stretched long after her last words had faded into the opulent dining room. The air was tense, crackling with a strange mix of defiance and curiosity. Nova couldn't help but study him more closely, his angular jawline, the way the light reflected off his obsidian shirt, the faint shadow of a bruise on his cheekbone. It was clear this wasn't a man who lived a peaceful life.
Jericho took another slow sip of his wine. The deep crimson liquid mirrored the sharpness in his eyes. "You intrigue me," he said finally, voice low and deliberate. "Do you always walk into danger like it owes you an apology?"
Nova tilted her chin. "Do you always throw your money around to shut down clubs and control people like they're your puppets?"
Jericho let out a soft chuckle, not one of amusement, but of curiosity. Touché. Carter, standing in the corner like a silent statue, gave a small cough. "Shall I bring lunch, sir?"
Jericho nodded, never breaking eye contact with Nova. "Yes. And bring the Roselle wine."
Nova folded her arms across her chest. "Let's skip the formalities. Why am I here?"
Jericho leaned forward slightly, fingers drumming against the polished surface of the long dining table.
"I wanted to see the woman who had the guts to pour out a thousand-dollar drink in front of my face."
She shrugged. "You can afford to lose it. I couldn't afford to lose my self-respect."
He smirked. "You're a firecracker."
Before she could reply, two maids wheeled in silver-domed trays and began to set the table. The scent of roasted duck and saffron rice filled the air, along with baked herbed bread and garlic-infused vegetables. Despite herself, Nova's stomach growled.
"Eat," Jericho said. You'll need your strength. "For what?"
Jericho didn't answer. Instead, he poured her a glass of the Roselle wine, a rare vintage known in Arensville's elite circles and slid it toward her.
Nova sat cautiously and took the glass, but didn't drink. "You think feeding me fancy food will make me more agreeable?"
"No," Jericho said softly. "I think you're already more agreeable than you pretend to be."
They ate in silence for a while, the cutlery clinking softly between bites. Jericho studied her like he was trying to read a hidden language on her skin. It was unnerving.
"So," Nova said finally, pushing her plate away slightly. "What do the A-Boys actually do? Besides throwing money around and glaring at people."
Jericho wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. "We run businesses. Investments. We negotiate...territories."
She raised an eyebrow. "Territories? That sounds like mafia talk."
A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. "Does it?"
Nova leaned back, folding her arms again. "Why are you really here, Jericho?"
Jericho paused. He could've lied, he usually did. But something about her presence, her intensity, demanded more. "I'm here on a mission," he said slowly. My brothers and I were sent to retrieve something stolen from us. Something powerful. And dangerous. Nova blinked. "You're not joking." He didn't smile this time. "And you think shutting down bars and intimidating people will help you find it?" she asked. "It already has."
Nova stared at him for a beat. "So I just happened to pour wine on the wrong warlord, huh?" Jericho's gaze flicked to the necklace around his neck, the one his fiancée had given him, the one he was no longer sure he deserved.
"You poured wine on the right mystery," he said quietly. "Maybe the only one that matters."
Nova's heart thumped unexpectedly. Before she could speak, Klaus strolled in through the tall double doors. "Sorry to interrupt, bro," he said lazily, tossing a small black pouch onto the table. "Got a gift from the street kids we hired. They said some girl was asking about you." Jericho's eyes darkened.
Nova's interest piqued. "A girl?" Klaus turned to her and grinned. Who's this? New recruit? Or another victim of your brooding charm? "Leave us," Jericho said sharply. Klaus raised both hands. "Damn. Alright. But you might wanna check that pouch. There's something familiar inside."
He winked at Nova and exited. Jericho opened the pouch slowly. Inside was a small silver locket one he recognized instantly.
His brows furrowed.
He had given that locket to a girl in another world. A girl he'd barely known. A girl who had vanished. But it couldn't be. That girl was gone.
Then why did his chest feel like it was burning?
Nova noticed the shift in his expression. "Something wrong?"
He closed the pouch and stood. "Lunch is over." "That's it?" Jericho looked at her. "You'll be seeing me again, Nova. Sooner than you think." Before she could respond, Carter was at her side, gesturing toward the door. "Miss Bianchi, I'll escort you out." She stood slowly, her mind racing. As she walked out of the mansion, Nova couldn't shake the feeling that she had stepped into something far deeper than she'd intended. Something ancient. Something dangerous.
And as for Jericho? He stood alone in the dining room, staring at the pouch in his hand. The past had just reached across dimensions to haunt him. And it carried her scent. The palace walls seemed to shimmer in the late afternoon light, casting golden streaks across the black marble floors. Nova followed silently as Carter led her through yet another endless hallway, her heels clicking with every hesitant step. "This is the guest lounge," Carter said, opening a massive door. "Mr. Jericho will be with you shortly. Please wait here." The room was majestic. Velvet drapes framed massive windows, the scent of exotic oils lingering in the air. A crystal chandelier hung overhead like frozen stardust. Nova walked in slowly, running her fingers along the back of the leather couch. This place didn't feel like Arensville. It felt like a different world entirely.
She glanced at a nearby painting, a regal looking man in golden robes, with a crown unlike any she'd ever seen. His eyes were familiar, piercing. Jericho's eyes. She turned away quickly, heart pounding. "Get a grip, Nova," she muttered. The sound of a door opening pulled her attention.
Jericho entered. Gone was the arrogant playboy aura he wore in public. Here, in his own world, he seemed even more dangerous and even more controlled. He wore a deep blue tunic with faint silver embroidery, sleeves rolled to the elbows. His dark eyes found hers immediately, and he walked to the bar without a word.
Wine? Sure, she said, but her voice came out a little breathless.
He poured two glasses and handed her one. Their fingers brushed. Nova felt a spark. "So," she began, taking a seat. "Why am I here?" Jericho took the chair across from her, swirling his glass. "I find you interesting."
She blinked. "Interesting enough to shut down a whole club and stalk me?" His lips curled slightly. "I don't stalk. I observe."
Nova crossed her legs. "Well, Mr. Observer, you could've just asked me out the normal way." "Normal is... not something I'm very familiar with."
She laughed dryly. "No kidding. You and your brothers don't exactly blend in." Jericho said nothing, just took another sip of wine. Nova studied him. "So, what is it? You some kind of underground prince or something?" His eyes twitched. "Why do you ask that?" She shrugged. "You give off a weird vibe. Like... you don't belong here. You and your friends move like this whole world is beneath you."
Jericho leaned back, thoughtful. "And if I told you I didn't belong here?" Nova narrowed her eyes. "Then I'd say you're high off your ego." He chuckled. "Fair enough." They sat in silence for a moment, the tension simmering between them. Nova looked down into her glass. "Do you always invite girls over just to intimidate them?" "Only the ones who spill my drink and insult me in front of an audience." Her cheeks flushed. "It was one glass. Get over it." "It was the principle." She rolled her eyes and stood, walking toward the window.
"This view is incredible," she said, trying to change the subject. "Auroria has better views." She turned around, confused. "Auroria?" Jericho froze for a split second. "Just a place I visited," he lied smoothly. "Beautiful. Untouched." Nova stared at him for a moment, sensing something... off. "What are you hiding?" Jericho stood as well, walking slowly toward her. Why do you assume I'm hiding something? "Because you're too perfect. Too rich. Too calm. And people like that are either mafia lords or aliens." He smirked. "What if I'm both?"
Nova narrowed her eyes but didn't respond. She was trying not to let the smell of his cologne or the dangerous glint in his eyes affect her. But it was getting hard. He stopped right in front of her, looking down. You don't scare easy. "Neither do you." Their faces were inches apart.
"That night at the club," he said slowly, "I watched you walk away. And I knew... something about you wasn't like the rest."
Nova didn't back down. "You have no idea what I am."
No, he said softly. But I want to. The door opened again. Ethan walked in, annoyance written on his face.
Jericho. We need to talk. Now. Jericho glanced over his shoulder but didn't step back. I'll be there soon. Ethan looked at Nova, then back at his brother. A tight, knowing smirk pulled at his lips before he left again. Nova sighed. I should go. "Stay," Jericho said, almost too quickly. She paused.
"I'll have Carter take you home later," he added. Nova looked into his eyes, unsure of what she was agreeing to, but already losing the will to say no. "Fine. One more glass." Jericho smiled, a slow, magnetic curl of the lips. He poured her another drink, and as the chandelier above twinkled softly, Nova couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just stepped into something far bigger than herself.
Something irreversible. The warmth of the grand dining room slowly faded as Nova followed Jericho through the marbled hallways of the estate. Her eyes traced the delicate artistry carved into the walls, but her thoughts remained fixed on the man walking silently ahead of her. He hadn't said much after lunch, just a quiet offer to take a walk and show her something. His steps were long and deliberate, like he had no intention of explaining anything until he was ready.
Nova's heels echoed behind him. So... this whole place is yours? "Mine and my brothers'," Jericho replied without looking back. Must be nice being rich and mysterious. "It's exhausting, actually." She raised a brow. That wasn't the answer she expected. He stopped at a large door, pulling it open to reveal a spacious indoor garden. Light poured in from the crystal ceiling, casting rainbows across the exotic flowers and white stone benches.
Nova's breath caught. Wow, This is my quiet space, Jericho said, finally turning to look at her. I come here when I need to remember who I am. "And who are you?" she asked softly. He held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary. "That... is still a question I'm trying to answer."
Nova stepped into the garden, walking slowly among the rare plants. She noticed a small fountain in the center, water bubbling peacefully.
"So," she started, trailing her fingers over a velvety red petal. Why did you bring me here? Jericho moved to stand near the fountain. "I don't usually explain myself."
I figured. But there's something about you, Nova. From the first moment I saw you. She turned to face him, uncertain whether to scoff or blush. "You don't even know me," she replied. "Maybe. But that night at the club, when you poured that drink... You were the only one who looked me in the eye without flinching."
Nova exhaled sharply, not expecting his words to hit her chest like that. He took a step closer. "Most people see our wealth, our name, and they either grovel or run. You did neither." "Yeah, well... I have a thing for standing my ground." Jericho chuckled lightly. It was the first time she'd seen him smile with something close to amusement. "I can respect that." Silence stretched between them, the air thick with something she couldn't name. "So... what now?" she asked, crossing her arms. "You compliment me, take me to your secret garden, and then what? You disappear again?"
Jericho tilted his head. "Do you want me to disappear?" Nova faltered. The weight in his question made it hard to breathe. "No," she admitted. "But I want honesty. I'm not some fragile doll you can play mind games with." He moved toward her, slow and smooth. "And I'm not the kind of man who plays games." They were close now. Too close. Nova could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His presence was intoxicating. It buzzed beneath her skin like static. She stared up at him, heart thudding. "Why do I feel like I'm on the edge of something dangerous when I'm around you?"
Jericho leaned in, his voice barely a whisper. "Because you are." A beat passed. Then another. Nova stood her ground, refusing to step back. But just before anything else could happen, a voice echoed from the hallway. "Jericho?" It was a female voice, soft but laced with tension. He blinked, stepping away instantly, the air cooling between them. "Excuse me," he said quickly and turned toward the exit. Nova stood there alone among the rare flowers, her lips parted, her breath shaky.
She didn't know what just happened. But she knew it had changed everything. Nova stood there, frozen. The truth had punched her straight in the chest. Jericho's words still hung in the air, thick and haunting: "You remind me of someone I once knew... someone important." The candlelight danced across his chiseled jawline, but there was something behind his eyes now, something wounded. And she hated how it stirred something inside her. Pity? Intrigue? Maybe both. "Who?" she asked quietly. Jericho looked away for a moment, glass swirling in his hand. "It doesn't matter. She's gone." The silence stretched between them like a taut string. Nova opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of footsteps interrupted them. A servant stepped into the room and whispered something to Jericho. He nodded. "Understood." The servant left as quickly as he came.
Jericho turned back to Nova. "I have to attend to something upstairs. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?" Nova hesitated, then gave a stiff nod. He lingered for a second, eyes scanning her face, then left the room. She sat there, alone, in the eerie silence of the dining hall. Her fingers drummed against the polished table. She couldn't explain the feeling inside her, a tightness, an itch under her skin. She had a thousand reasons to walk out, yet she stayed. She stood and wandered toward the massive window, peering out at the palace garden. It was the kind of beauty you only saw in fairy tales, a rich garden of silver roses, glowing faintly under the moonlight. But the moment shattered when she heard whispers. Not just whispers male voices, hushed and sharp. She turned her head slightly and realized it was coming from just beyond the adjoining hallway. Nova tiptoed to the doorway, careful not to make a sound. The voices became clearer.
"You're sure the girl has no idea?" one said. "None," another replied. "But the stone is safe now. Jericho shouldn't have gotten attached. That wasn't part of the plan." Nova's heart pounded. Her instincts told her to get away, but her curiosity kept her glued to the spot. He gave her the necklace, didn't he? "Yes. The one his fiancée gave him." There was a short laugh. "He told her he lost it on Earth. If she finds out what he really did..." "The King won't be pleased." Nova took a step back, nearly knocking over a vase. The laughter stopped. "Did you hear that?"
Nova cursed inwardly and turned, walking away quickly before she could be caught. By the time she returned to the dining room, her breath was shaky. Whatever they were talking about it was real. There was something deeper going on here, something dangerous. When Jericho returned, he found her standing, arms crossed, eyes dark. "Is everything alright?" he asked. Nova tilted her head, then smiled. "Just peachy."
But inside, a storm had begun to brew.