Zenon stood before the tall mirror, a pristine white towel wrapped loosely around his slender waist. Droplets of water clung to the dark strands of his hair, tracing rivulets down his skin. His hand lifted slowly to touch the fresh, angry scar etched across his chest—a deep, crimson line that hadn't yet healed. His eyes glistened with something unreadable as his fingers traced the tender flesh, soft to the touch despite the harsh wound.
A sudden *thud* at the door broke the quiet. Without haste, he grabbed a crisp shirt from the nearby chair, slipping it on with effortless grace. Moving toward the door with lazy steps, as if expecting the visitor, he opened it—and glanced left and right.
The hallway was empty.
"Ah, so boring," he muttered, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips.
Then, out of nowhere, a familiar voice chirped behind him. "Boo!"
Selene suddenly appeared, popping her hand in front of his face, grinning mischievously.
Zenon froze, the smirk fading as he stared at her, eyes sharp and unreadable. Her smile faltered under his intense gaze.
"Why... are you looking at me like that?" she asked, attempting a sheepish smile, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of excitement.
His arms folded across his chest, tone calm but edged with curiosity. "What exactly are you doing?"
Her gaze dropped—unconsciously—toward the towel wrapped around his waist.
*Geez,* she thought, *what a waistline. This man is incredibly...*
"Childish," Zenon interrupted, resting his face in his palm, mock disappointment dripping from his voice.
Selene lifted her eyes, sparkling with delight as she soaked in the rare moment of interaction.
"I just wanted to scare you, Mr. Vander."
He peeked one eye through his fingers, a glint of amusement flashing. "Would be scarier if there was a blade at your throat."
Selene bit her lip, inwardly grimacing. *Disgusting,* she thought. *I've used that word on him so much, it's starting to sound like a compliment.*
She glanced away, side-eye catching a brief, bright smile hidden behind his stoic mask—a smile meant only for her.
As she turned back, his face was calm again, no trace of that warmth.
Selene's lips curled into a soft smile. At least he smiled.
"What's in for dinner?"
Zenon's voice was lazy, the kind that floated in with the scent of lavender soap and wet skin. His footsteps padded across the hardwood floor, each step leaving a darkened trail of water as he ran a towel through his damp hair. A white towel clung low around his waist, drops sliding down his lean torso like they had a mission.
Selene ducked beneath the tall doorframe as she entered, brushing her hand along the top like it might slap her for intruding.
"I don't know," she replied, scanning the room. "I haven't seen the chef yet."
Her eyes wandered. The space was spacious, dark-toned, expensive—*secretive*. Velvet curtains, sleek furniture, and a bed so large it could've had its own zip code.
She tilted her head.
*How many women has he taken to this room?*
The thought flashed without permission, her gaze catching on the bed.
"Of course he has," she muttered under her breath. "So many women must've—"
"What did you say?"
Zenon didn't even look at her, still toweling off his hair. His voice was calm, but sharp enough to cut.
Selene froze, then forced a smile.
"Nothing." She looked at his back. Long. Solid. Broad. *Ugh.*
"You're clumsy, flower."
Her eyes flared. "Excuse me? I'm *not* clumsy—your room is just... pathetic. Choking. Disgusting. Annoying."
Zenon was already halfway to the bathroom. He stopped just at the doorway, tossed the towel to a nearby chair, and shot her a look over his shoulder.
"Don't touch anything until I'm back."
Then the door clicked shut.
Selene's lips parted in disbelief.
"Oh, he smirked. *He actually smirked.*"
She clenched her fist. "God, I want to destroy that smug little smile so bad."
As soon as she heard the bathroom lock turn, she spun around like a detective with a search warrant.
Her eyes landed on a *black book* on the bedside table.
"Oho…" she whispered. "Secrets?"
She tiptoed over and leaned down, brushing a finger across the cover.
*Business Tips.*
Her face dropped.
"Oh come *on*."
She groaned, throwing her head back.
"Boring, boring, boring. Everything about this man is so—"
Then she saw it. A large portrait on the wall. A tiger with piercing silver eyes stared back at her from within a dark frame. Something about it was oddly magnetic.
She walked toward it, touched the glass, and whispered, "Beautiful…"
As her fingers traced the edge, the frame shifted slightly. Selene blinked. Behind it—hidden in the shadows—was a *small button*.
"Hm?" Her brow arched as she reached for it—
But before she could touch it, a hand snatched her waist.
A loud *thud* rang beside her head—Zenon's fist had landed on the wall.
She gasped, face pressing into a bare chest. Warm. Hard. Wet.
She looked up.
His expression was unreadable. Cold eyes, jaw tight.
"What was my instruction, Selene?"
"I—I wasn't going to touch it…" she stammered.
He nodded slowly. "No, you weren't. Because if you *had*…" His voice dropped. "You'd only have yourself to blame."
His hand slid up to her chin, tilting her face toward his.
"So…" he whispered. "What exactly caught your attention, flower?"
His smirk was dangerous. Seductive.
"Or was there *something more* you were hoping to find?"
Selene couldn't breathe.
*His breath… lavender? Wait... that's—*
She blinked. "Hold on… my soap?"
Zenon raised an eyebrow.
"You used *my* secret formula? That's why you always smell so damn charming?"
"Is that a compliment?"
He leaned closer, forehead nearly touching hers. She looked down—*not the chest again.*
Then she frowned. Something on his skin shimmered under the soft light.
Zenon followed her gaze.
"What are you staring at?"
Her finger lifted without thought, brushing across the long, faint scar on his chest.
He winced. Just slightly. Enough to step back and release her.
"What… happened?" she whispered.
He didn't answer. Just turned away, back stiff.
"Go downstairs," he said, voice flat. "Breakfast. I'll join you in thirty minutes."
She didn't move.
He didn't look at her.
"Now."
Only then did Selene turn, walking away with a million questions trailing behind her.