——
The assistant never saw it coming.
One moment, he was stepping into his car, fumbling with his keys. The next, a hand clamped over his mouth, and the world spun sideways.
Darkness swallowed him.
—
He woke to silence.
Not the peaceful kind—but the kind that hums with danger. The kind that makes your skin crawl before your eyes even open.
The room was dim. Concrete walls. A single bulb swung overhead, casting long, twitching shadows. His wrists were bound to the arms of a steel chair. His phone was gone. His jacket too.
Across from him, Zenon Vander sat.
Not in a rage. Not pacing. Not shouting.
Just… sitting.
One leg crossed over the other. Elbows on the armrest. Fingers steepled beneath his chin.
Watching.
Waiting.
The assistant swallowed. "Mr. Vander—"
"Don't speak," Zenon said, voice like silk over steel. "Not yet."
He uncrossed his legs and stood. The chair scraped slightly as he moved, echoing like a scream in the silence.
Zenon walked over, slow and deliberate, and placed the assistant's phone on the table between them.
"I'm going to ask you once," he said. "Where are they?"
The assistant blinked. "I—I don't know what you mean—"
Zenon's hand moved.
Not a punch. Not a slap.
He simply picked up the phone, opened the screen, and began deleting.
One app at a time.
Contacts. Gone.
Cloud access. Wiped.
Encrypted folders. Cracked open, then erased.
The assistant "Wait—wait, please—those are my—"
"Your life's work?" Zenon asked, not looking up. "Your secrets? Your leverage?"
He smiled faintly. "You should've backed them up."
The assistant thrashed. "Please! I don't know where they are! I was just following orders—"
Zenon's hand stilled.
He looked up, eyes cold.
"You touched my wife."
The words were soft. Too soft.
The assistant froze.
Zenon stepped closer, crouching to eye level.
"You put your hands on her. You frightened her. You made her doubt me."
He tilted his head.
"That's not something I forgive."
The assistant's breath came in short, panicked bursts. "I—I didn't mean to—"
Zenon stood.
"Intent doesn't matter," he said. "Only consequence."
He turned the phone around, showing the assistant the blank screen.
"Everything you've built. Every file. Every contact. Every favor you've stored up like coins in a vault."
He dropped the phone.
"Gone."
The assistant whimpered.
Zenon leaned in, voice low.
"Now. I'll ask again."
His tone sharpened, slicing through the air.
"Where. Are. They."
The assistant broke.
"They're at the old observatory! North ridge—off the coast road. They meet there when they don't want to be traced. I swear, that's all I know!"
Zenon studied him.
Then nodded once.
"Good."
He turned to leave.
"Wait—what happens to me?"
Zenon paused at the door.
"Nothing," he said. "You'll live."
The assistant sagged in relief.
Zenon glanced back, eyes like ice.
"But you'll never work again."
Zenon flicked a switch. The lights went out. And when the assistant's screams echoed in the dark—Zenon was already gone.
He stepped into the night air, phone buzzing with an incoming message. "Target confirmed."
Zenon's eyes narrowed. The observatory. North ridge. He'd find them.
He slid into his car, the engine roaring to life. Headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the road to vengeance.
As he sped away, his wife's voice echoed in his mind: "I'm scared."
A promise formed on his lips: "I'll fix this."
The car vanished into the night, leaving silence. And shadows closing in.
——
Selene refreshed her screen for the fifth time.
No reply.
Her fingers hovered, then typed again.
Where are you?
The message sent.
Unread.
She exhaled sharply, pressing the phone to her chest. Where is that man…
The car moved smoothly along the road, streetlights flashing past the windows in rhythmic bursts. Selene stared outside, jaw tight, thumb still tapping against her phone.
Then—
Bright light.
Too close. Too fast.
Headlights surged toward them, blinding white, swallowing the road.
Selene's eyes widened.
"Driver—!"
The car swerved violently.
Metal screamed.
The vehicle lurched off the road, crashing through undergrowth before slamming to a brutal stop among the trees. The impact snapped Selene forward, the seatbelt biting into her shoulder as the world shattered into noise and chaos.
Then—
Silence.
Thick. Ringing.
Her ears buzzed as she sucked in air, chest burning. The smell of smoke and torn metal filled her lungs.
"Madam—madam!" the driver's voice broke through. "Are you hurt?"
Selene blinked, disoriented. Her hands trembled as she touched her face, her arms.
"I… I'm fine," she whispered.
The driver forced the door open, stumbling out before rushing around to her side. He helped her out carefully, his hands shaking worse than hers.
People were already gathering—voices overlapping, panicked, accusing.
"That car came out of nowhere!"
"Are they alive?"
"Ah—so pitiful…"
Selene stood there, unmoving, staring at the wrecked vehicle ahead. Her phone was still clutched in her hand.
She typed without looking.
Zenon, where are you?
No response.
Her gaze lifted to the road.
"Why would someone drive like that?" she asked hoarsely, turning to the driver. "He could have killed us."
Her voice hardened.
"I hope he goes to jail."
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Red and blue lights flooded the road as an ambulance screeched to a stop. Paramedics rushed forward, tools in hand, shouting orders.
The other car's door was forced open.
Someone was pulled free.
A stretcher rolled out.
People surged closer, craning their necks.
"He must be drunk," Selene muttered bitterly. "Driving like a lunatic—"
Then the whispers changed.
"Wait…"
"That face…"
"Isn't that—"
Selene frowned, confused, stepping forward.
"Mr. Vander?"
The name rippled through the crowd like a shockwave.
Selene froze.
Her phone slipped from her fingers, hitting the ground with a dull sound.
"No," she breathed.
The stretcher passed under the ambulance lights.
And she saw him.
Zenon.
His face was pale, unnaturally still. Blood stained his hair, trailing from a gash at his temple, soaking into the white fabric beneath him. His eyes were closed—too calm, too quiet.
Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
"Zenon…" Her voice cracked.
The world tilted.
Her knees buckled as horror crashed over her all at once.
"That's my husband!" Selene screamed, breaking free from the crowd.
Every head turned.
She ran after the stretcher, hands shaking, heart slamming violently against her ribs.
"Zenon! Zenon, wake up—please!"
The ambulance doors slammed shut.
"Ma'am, you can't—"
She spun back to the driver, eyes wild.
"Follow them," she demanded. "Now."
The car pulled back onto the road, sirens screaming ahead as the ambulance sped toward the hospital.
Selene pressed her forehead against the window, tears blurring the lights outside.
Her phone buzzed once.
A new message.
Unknown Number: Target intercepted. Situation compromised.
Her breath hitched.
For the first time since she met Zenon Vander—
Selene was terrified she might lose him.
—
God… please don't let him die.
Selene clasped her trembling hands together, fingers pressing so hard they hurt.
Even if he acts like the devil himself… please.
She swallowed, breath shaking.
For the baby's sake.
Her steps faltered.
She stopped.
Her brows knit together as the thought settled deeper than she expected.
Shut up, Selene, she scolded herself silently. You know that's not why you're praying.
Her chest tightened.
It's because—
She froze.
The realization hit her like a quiet explosion.
"I'm in love," she whispered.
The words scared her more than the accident.
More than the blood.
She rushed forward just as the doctor stepped out of the emergency room, peeling off his gloves.
"How—how is he?" she asked, breathless, grabbing his sleeve.
The doctor sighed, adjusting the clipboard in his hands.
"He is… hmm…"
Selene's heart stopped.
"Dead?" she screamed, fingers clutching his arm.
The doctor startled. "What? No—no, not dead!"
Her knees nearly gave way.
"He's unconscious," he added quickly.
Selene slapped a palm over her mouth, then dragged it down her face in frustration.
"Then why didn't you just say that?" she snapped, voice cracking. "Why do doctors always pause like that? Just say it. Just give us the answers!"
She didn't wait for a reply.
She stepped past him, walking up to the glass wall separating her from the emergency room.
Her palm pressed flat against the cold surface.
There he was.
Zenon.
Lying still on the bed, machines softly beeping around him. His face was pale, relaxed in a way she had never seen before.
Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Her breathing slowed.
A small, shaky smile curved her lips as relief washed over her. A tear slipped down her cheek.
She had never seen him like this.
Even in sleep, Zenon always frowned or smirked, like the world still annoyed him.
But now… he looked human.
Vulnerable.
"When will he wake up?" she asked softly, without turning around.
The doctor hesitated.
Selene shot him a sharp look.
He cleared his throat quickly.
"That… depends on time. There are no complications. His vitals are stable."
He paused, then added,
"There's a good chance he will wake up."
A good chance.
Selene turned back to the glass, eyes fixed on him.
The man she almost lost.
The man she had almost loved—
No.
The man she did love.
"Please hold on," she whispered, her forehead resting against the glass.
"For me…"
Her hand slowly slid to her stomach.
"And for our future baby."