Isla's POV

I fumbled with my glasses, brushing damp strands of hair behind my ear. I glanced toward the staircase as though to check if Sienna was coming down the stairs, but then a tall silhouette disappeared around the corner.

After what felt like minutes, Sienna finally descended, her steps light, effortless, like she hadn't just spent the last ten minutes upstairs with her brother, the same brother she'd warned me about my entire life.

Her grin was annoyingly bright. "Finally... you meet Zayne."

"Yeah..." I hesitated, eyeing the stairs again. "But he's not ugly like you said."

Sienna stopped mid-step, her mouth falling open in mock outrage. "Yes, he is."

I arched my brow. "Ugly?" I echoed, remembering the way she'd once described him-too serious, too cold, the kind of guy who thought 'smiling' was a chore. But even as I said it, I could feel the lies twisting through her tone, the flicker of something unspoken in her eyes.

Sienna scoffed, tossing her hair dramatically. "Ugly. Grumpy. Old man energy. Don't let that face fool you."

I bit back a smile. "Old man energy? He's what, twenty-nine?"

"Exactly. That's ancient."

"Sienna," I said, trying to sound serious, "I think you just don't want to admit your brother's... actually kind of attractive."

She gasped, dramatic as ever, clutching her chest as if I'd just said the unthinkable. "Did you just-no. No, Isla. Don't tell me you're already-ugh! You're not looking properly. He's still ugly."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Sure."

She narrowed her eyes, her lips twitching. "You're blushing."

"I'm not."

"You are."

I pressed my fingers to my cheeks, and of course the heat gave me away instantly. "You're delusional."

Sienna crossed her arms, smug. "Delusion is thinking that Zayne's attractive. That's a medical emergency."

I rolled my eyes. "You make it sound like finding your brother good-looking is a felony."

"It should be," she said without missing a beat, then sighed. "Because right now you've been going on and on about Zayne. Every other sentence starts with 'your brother this,' 'your brother that.' I'm starting to get suspicious."

"Oh, please." I laughed, leaning back on the couch. "Not like I'm planning to date him or something. Silas's trauma is enough to keep me focused."

Her expression softened, the humor fading from her eyes for a moment. "Good. Because my brother is off-limits, Isla. And you're really not the type to break promises."

Her words hit heavier than she probably meant them to. 

"I know," I murmured, managing a small smile. "I wouldn't."

She nodded, studying me for a beat longer before letting out a light laugh to diffuse the tension. "Good. Because I'd rather not walk in on you two making googly eyes at each other over breakfast. I'd choke on my coffee."

I chuckled, pretending her words didn't sting in some quiet way.

I was about to fire back when his footsteps echoed again from upstairs, steady, unhurried, like each one carried the weight of intention. I didn't look up, but I felt it, the awareness that he was there, listening. Maybe even amused.

The living room suddenly felt smaller.

Sienna plopped down beside me on the couch, pulling her legs up and hugging a pillow. "Anyway, don't take him too seriously. He's been in Italy for what-three years? Maybe four? He thinks he's mysterious now."

"Italy, your mom's side?"

She nodded, flipping through her phone. "Yeah, work stuff. I don't know exactly what. He doesn't tell me much anymore. All I know is he sends me expensive things when he feels guilty about ignoring my calls."

I smiled faintly. That sounded like the same Zayne she always described, cold but caring in hidden, twisted ways.

But still. Something didn't add up.

Because when he'd brushed past me earlier, even in that fleeting moment at the door, I'd caught it, his cologne. That same intoxicating cologne....it was familiar. 

I tilted my head, recalling. "You said he's been in Italy?"

"Yeah," Sienna said absently, not looking up.

"Did he just return?"

"Mhm. Came in last night. Why?"

I hesitated, the memory flashing again-Silas's wedding, that scent trailing past me near the alley. Although I couldn't see his face, the height and the scent is a match. Or am I just adding things up? 

"Because..." I began slowly, "I think I've smelled that cologne before. At Silas's wedding."

Sienna looked up at me, her brows knitting. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. I mean, it was probably nothing, but..." I trailed off, shrugging to hide the strange pull in my chest. "It smelled exactly the same. It's so distinct."

She gave me a skeptical look, tapping her chin. "You think Zayne was there?"

"Well, you said he was in Italy until last night..."

Sienna tilted her head. "He told me he was attending an event this week. Maybe that's what he meant. But I doubt it was Silas's wedding."

I frowned although my chest loosened a bit, staring at the staircase again. "Still... maybe I'll just ask him myself."

Her eyes widened. "Ask Zayne? Yourself? Oh, this I have to see."

"Don't make it weird."

"It's already weird. You're curious. That's weird as fuck."

I rolled my eyes. "It's just a question."

"Right," she teased, grinning. "Just like how you 'accidentally' stared at him for a full minute earlier."

"I didn't!"

"You did."

I sighed, shoving a cushion into her face. "I'm not having this conversation."

Her laughter filled the room, bright and contagious. For a while, it felt easy again, the way it always was with us. But then, mid-laughter, she switched gears completely.

"So," Sienna said slyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "let's see if you still remember the Italian I taught you."

I groaned. "Oh no."

"Oh yes," she said, her grin wicked. "Come on. I need to make sure those endless lessons aren't a waste."

"I remember the basics."

"Good. Say 'I think your brother is handsome.'"

My jaw dropped. "Sienna!"

"What? Educational purposes."

"I'm not saying that."

She laughed so hard she nearly fell over. "Fine, fine. Say 'I missed my best friend.'"

I sighed dramatically. "Mi è mancata la mia migliore amica."

Sienna blinked. "Okay... not bad. Still sounds like you swallowed a vowel, though."

I threw a pillow at her. "Stop it"

She caught it midair. "And you're blushing again."

"Stop saying that!"

Just then, footsteps sounded again from the top of the stairs. Instinctively, I glanced up, just in time to see Zayne descending this time, his phone in one hand, the other shoved casually in his pocket. He looked...effortless, tattoos trailed from his neck down to his chest and arms, grey pants, hair slightly tousled as if he'd run his hand through it too many times.

His gaze flicked over the room once before settling, right on me. It was one second. Maybe two. But it felt longer.

That same unexplainable recognition rippled through me again, and I hated that my heart reacted before my mind could. Heat crawled up my neck as I lowered my gaze a bit from looking at his body.

"What the," Sienna said, noticing the pause. "You're coming down again?"

Zayne gave her a look that made her roll her eyes immediately. "I forgot my charger," he said simply, his voice low, calm, and deliberate.

He crossed the room, grabbed a small cable from the shelf, and turned to leave. But before he disappeared, his eyes flicked toward me again.

"Nice to finally meet you, Isla," he said.

I blinked. "You-uh-Yeah, likewise"

He smirked faintly. "Have fun"

Sienna groaned. "Zayne, could you please put on your shirt from now on please?"

He ignored her, gaze still lingering on me, just for a heartbeat too long. Then he left, vanishing up the stairs again, leaving behind a trail of silence thick enough to drown in.

I sat back slowly, trying to exhale the air I hadn't realized I was holding.

Sienna nudged me with her elbow. "See? Told you. Annoying."

I swallowed hard, still staring at the staircase. "Mhm. Sure."

But as the evening wore on, Sienna chatted endlessly beside me, I couldn't shake the way Zayne had looked at me, like he'd seen me before, somewhere beyond this room, beyond this version of me.

And the strangest part?

I had the haunting feeling that he had.

Zayne's POV

The push-up count stopped at thirty. I could've gone to fifty, maybe sixty, but my mind wasn't keeping pace with my body.

Every time I exhaled, Isla's face flashed.

The glasses. The trembling hands. The soaked hair plastered to her cheeks.

I dropped to my knees and sat back on my heels, breathing through the memory that wouldn't stop.

I dragged a towel over my face, forcing myself to focus. It didn't work.

I'd told myself I was going downstairs for my charger. Truth? I just wanted to see her again. Just once more, to make sure if the woman I'd pulled out of that alley was really Isla and not a figment of my guilt-soaked imagination.

She was more than real.

Everything Sienna and Silas had ever said about Isla had been criminally inaccurate.

Silas had described her as "sweet but boring," like she was a side note in his own story.

Sienna used to laugh, calling her "my hot nerd bestie" - None of them had mentioned how good looking she really was. The quiet gravity she carried, like she didn't need to try to be noticed, she just was.

Even in her sadness, she was... luminous.

Silas didn't deserve her. Hell, no one did, least of all him.

The sight of seeing her breakdown when Silas walked down the aisle broke my heart and the thought of him giving her the gig for his own wedding, letting her capture the damn pictures while he played groom? It made my stomach twist.

If I'd known earlier, I'd have told him to cancel the whole circus before I rearranged his face myself.

But Silas was my friend, a close one at that. 

My phone buzzed on the desk.

I grabbed it, expecting another useless message from him, but it wasn't.

Dr. Pierce:

Zayne, we didn't have time to greet each other at the wedding. Seems like you left earlier. How long has it been - four years? Come for a checkup soon.

Four years....

That's how long it had been since I last sat in Pierce's office. He'd been my doctor before and after Elena's death, my ex-girlfriend. The man had seen me at my worst, prescribing pills I stopped taking months ago.

He said they'd help restore what trauma had blurred out. I wasn't sure I wanted clarity anymore. Some memories were better left fogged.

I typed back one word - Soon.

A lie, neat and simple.

Before I could set the phone down, another message came through.

Silas:

Meet me before this week or I tell Pierce you're off your meds.

I let out a dry laugh.

Of course. Silas never changed, even blackmail came like gift-wrapped in casual threats.

Fine, I texted back, though we both knew I didn't mean it.

He wanted to see me; maybe to guilt trip for ditching his wedding. Or maybe he just wanted to remind me he still could.

The screen dimmed, and I sat there in silence. The room felt quiet, the air thicker.

Then came the knock.

"Go away, Sienna," I muttered, voice low. "I'm busy."

No answer. Then a hesitant voice -

"It's... not Sienna."

My hands still.

"Come in," I said, quieter this time.

The door creaked open, spilling light from the hallway across the dark floor.

Isla stood there, framed in the doorway like some misplaced item. She was barefoot, wearing one of Sienna's oversized shirts that hit mid-thigh, her hair pulled up in a lazy bun. The glasses were gone, and without them, she looked even hotter.

Her skin looked softer without the rain. Her eyes, wide, searching, found mine and held for a fraction too long.

"Sorry," she said quickly, her fingers twisting in the hem of the shirt. "I didn't mean to bother you."

"You're not bothering me," I lied.

She hesitated. "I, uh... wanted to ask you something."

I leaned back against the desk, crossing my arms. "Go ahead."

Her breath came uneven. "I know this might sound insane, but... were you the one who helped me back at the wedding? Down the alley, I mean."

The question landed like a punch.

"I just-" she stumbled over the words, cheeks flushing. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but when I saw you earlier, something felt... familiar. The cologne, maybe. Or the way you stood. I don't know. I just can't shake it."

My throat tightened. She'd looked small. Fragile in a way that made me want to burn the world down around her just to keep it from touching her again.

I swallowed, hard. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know." She shrugged weakly, eyes falling to the floor. "It's stupid. I'm just trying to make sense of everything."

Her voice cracked halfway through the sentence, and something in me did, too.

I hesitated for a moment...There was no reason to lie, because even if I do, it's only a matter of time before she'd start connecting dots I wasn't ready for her to see.

Call it instinct- stepping out of the shadows to catch some cool breeze and take a smoke, just to walk into her needing a protector. 

I let out a slow breath, forcing my face into something unreadable.

And then, before I could stop myself -

"You look better without the rain this time."

The words slipped out low, almost like they weren't meant for her to hear.

Her brows furrowed. Confusion came first, then a sign of recognition that made her still completely.

For a heart beat everything went still. She blinked once, twice, trying to read me. And I just stood there, hands in my pockets, pretending my chest wasn't burning from the weight of what I hadn't said.

"I..." she started, but her voice trailed off.

I gave her a small nod. "Goodnight, Isla."

She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but she didn't. She just nodded faintly, turned, and walked out.