The next morning, Zara woke up earlier than everyone else. Marco was still asleep beside her, his arm loosely wrapped around her waist. The warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest… everything made her heart thump in a way she didn't understand.
Quietly, she lifted his arm and slipped out of bed.
She wasn't ready to face him.
Not after that kiss…
Not after the way her body reacted…
Not after the way he held her like she belonged to him.
She pressed her palm against her chest. Why am I feeling this way?
Instead of going back to her room, Zara went straight to the kitchen.
"Good morning, Ms. Zara!" the maids greeted her with big smiles the moment she walked in.
She smiled shyly. "Please, just call me Zara… I'm not used to all these formalities."
They giggled, liking how gentle and humble she was.
One maid, Sofia, tried taking the basket from her, but Zara shook her head.
"No, no… let me help. What are you making?"
"Breakfast for the boss," Sofia said, chopping vegetables.
"Oh… I can help with that."
She tied her hair into a messy bun and joined them. She cut tomatoes, mixed batter, cleaned the kitchen top, and even carried plates to the dining table.
The maids exchanged looks and whispered:
"She's so sweet…"
"No wonder the boss looks at her differently…"
"He rarely comes to the kitchen but yesterday he came twice."
Zara pretended she didn't hear, but her cheeks got warm.
While she arranged cups, the sound of slow footsteps approached from behind.
Marco.
His morning voice wrapped around her like velvet. "Good morning… sunshine."
The maids froze. Zara froze harder.
She slowly turned, and Marco was standing there with messy hair, a half-buttoned shirt, and sleepy eyes that looked directly at her.
Her breath hitched.
She looked away immediately. "Good… morning sir."
Marco arched a brow. "Sir? After the way you kissed me last night?"
All the maids dropped something. One dropped a spoon. Another dropped a pot lid. Someone even gasped.
Zara's eyes widened. "M–Marco—keep your voice down!"
Marco walked closer, amused. "Why? They already know you make me smile."
"Stop talking like that," she whispered, blushing furiously.
He smirked. "Why? You looked cute running away this morning."
"I wasn't running away," she lied.
"Really? Then why did you sneak out of the room like a thief?"
The maids pretended not to listen, but their ears were wide open.
Zara grabbed a tray just to escape. "I have to take this to the dining table—"
"I'll carry it," Marco said, taking it from her.
She tried to escape through the hall, but he followed her.
For the rest of the day, Zara made sure she stayed busy.
She helped the maids wash sheets.
She arranged the guest rooms.
She even helped in the garden.
Marco watched her from a distance, confused, irritated, amused.
Every time he approached her:
"Zara, we need to talk."
"I'm busy, Marco."
"Busy doing what?"
"Helping."
"With what?"
"Everything."
Every hour he tried, she ran.
By afternoon, he leaned against the wall, shaking his head.
"You're avoiding me."
She didn't look at him. "No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"No."
"Yes."
She grabbed a mop just to escape. "Please, Marco, I have work to do."
He walked up behind her and whispered, "Stop acting like kissing me was a mistake."
Her cheeks turned red instantly.
She didn't answer.
He smiled because her silence told him everything.
****
Dinner was crowded. Romano, the guards, and the maids were all around.
Zara tried to sit far from Marco, but he dragged a chair right beside her.
She glared at him. "Can you stop acting childish?"
He leaned close. "I'm not childish. I just like being close to you."
Everyone at the table looked up.
Zara's spoon froze mid-air.
Then Marco said the one thing that completely destroyed her courage:
"If you keep avoiding me like this… I might kidnap you back into my room tonight."
The table went silent.
Someone choked on water.
Someone else dropped bread.
Romano covered his face like please boss stop talking.
Zara's entire face went red. "MARCO!"
He smirked. "What? Did I say something wrong?"
Without warning, she stood up so fast her chair almost fell. "I—I need to go!"
And she ran. Actually ran.
She hid in her room, her heart pounding. She locked the door and pressed her back against it.
"Why do I keep feeling this around him?" she whispered shakily.
"He's dangerous… rude… stubborn… he kills without mercy… so why… why is he the only man who makes me nervous like this?"
She buried her face in her hands
Her thoughts were still running wild when—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Her heart stopped.
She wasn't expecting anyone.
The knock came again, deeper this time.
"Zara," a voice said from outside, low and warm. "Open the door."
Her stomach flipped.
It was Marco.