"I’m not sure what kind of creature she is… yet."

Enzo’s hunting thought

Enzo

The next morning, I wake to the faint sound of music drifting in. I follow it to the window. I think it’s coming from the garden. But when I get close to the window, I don’t see anyone there.

I step outside to the terrace, light a cigarette, and sit on the wicker chair that creaks under my weight.

I hadn’t noticed how meticulously the garden was kept before. The pool lies still in the center, surrounded by perfectly cut grass, sculpted bushes, and flowers in full summer bloom. In the far corner, a weeping willow droops like it’s hiding whispered secrets beneath its canopy.

It looks like a secret garden, something unreal.

Then I spot an easel, half-hidden between the flowers and the tree, holding a large canvas.
So she doesn’t just sell paint, she creates too.

Movement flickers behind me, her private patio. The folklore music pulses from the screen set against the wall.

Jennifer steps into view, wrapped in silk as black as midnight, trailing behind her like a ghost too in love to let go.
She pours herself a drink, amber and heavy.
Then she walks to the jacuzzi, sets her things down, turns it on, and shrugs off the robe…

God.

The black bikini clings to her like a second skin, leaving little to mercy and nothing to imagination. Tattoos cover her right arm, while the left remains bare like a white canvas waiting. Between her breasts, a scarlet flower blooms in ink.
The snake wraps around her right leg, but she turns before I can catch where it ends.

I should look away. I lean in the chair. I should.
But my body won’t obey.

She slips into the water like she belongs there, like the heat was made for her. Her long black hair, past her waist, floats on the water, surrounding her like spilled ink.
She drinks slowly, eyes closed, singing along with the song.
Every sip brings a sigh of pleasure and quiet bliss, of escape.

The cigarette burns down to the filter, forgotten between my fingers.
My jaw tightens, and my pulse drums in my ears.
I shift in my seat, hard and burning, cursing her and myself.

Fuck me.

A knock on the door pulls me out of that spiral of heat and madness.
I grab my things from the table, drop them on the desk inside the room, and shut the balcony door with more force than I intend. I pull the curtains closed, blocking out the sun and—

The knock again. Damn it.

“What?”
Too sharp. Too frustrated. Too obvious.

Rem raises a brow the second I open the door, a file in hand. Just what I fucking needed.
“Are you okay?”
It’s not a question.

He steps into the dim room without waiting for an answer, scanning everything with that quiet, unsettling focus of his.
“Awake with the lights off?” he says rhetorically, voice flat, eyes dead black and suspicious, making a silent reading. “That’s odd,” he mutters, glancing at the closed curtains. He knows me and my routines too well.

His emotionless eyes look at me like he already knows, even before checking for himself.
He may look approachable. Nothing could be further from the truth.
He notices everything. He’s annoyingly smart, and he uses that mask as his sharpest weapon.

I flick on the lights.
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to shift the mood. I know I still owe them a conversation about what happened last night, but I sense he’s not here for that.

“Why don’t we find another place?” he asks. Yes, we could be anywhere else… if I wanted to.
But I’m not leaving. Not now.

“We’re staying here,” I reply, final and sharp.

He stares at me with that critical face. Rem knows he’s free to disappear on his own. Any of them can.
But I doubt he will.

We’re like brothers. We take care of each other.
Together, we can handle anyone who gets in our way.

“No sense,” he mutters. “Tch... you’re so annoying. It was just a suggestion. No need to bite.”

His tone softens. He slides the file onto the desk while walking slow and deliberate toward the balcony window.
“Anyway… it’s very comfortable here.” He moves the curtain and looks out, indifferent.
“Mmm...” A sly smile.
He got me.

Trying to sound indifferent, I say, “It’s not bad. Do you need anything else?”

He grins wickedly.
“Now I got what I needed,” he says, patting me on the shoulder.

Bastard.

I stare at the file with her name on it... I’ll read it later.
I walk to the window where he was just standing and slide the curtain aside as he did.

Of course. I can see her clearly.
She’s on the phone now, arms resting lazily on the edge of the jacuzzi, her pale back glistening under the sun.

I close the curtain again.
I need to get out of the room and tell Mark to spar together.