I had learned something important in a very short time.
Rico Zander didn't respond to pressure.
He responded to strategy.
And if I couldn't escape him…
Then I would have to understand him.
⸻
That morning, I changed my approach.
No more anger.
No more resistance.
Just calm.
And patience.
And something I hated admitting to myself…
Charm.
⸻
I walked into the living room where he sat, just like always.
Controlled posture.
Unreadable expression.
The kind of man who made silence feel expensive.
⸻
"Good morning," I said softly.
He didn't look up immediately.
"Morning," he replied.
Simple.
Flat.
Expected.
⸻
I moved closer, slowly.
Deliberately.
"I didn't see you last night," I said lightly, tilting my head. "Do you always disappear like that?"
That made him look at me.
Finally.
⸻
His eyes scanned me once.
Carefully.
Not in a way that gave anything away.
Just observing.
"I don't disappear," he said. "I move."
A small smile formed on my lips.
"Sounds dramatic."
⸻
I sat down across from him, folding my hands neatly like I belonged there.
Like I wasn't trying to extract secrets from a man who built walls around himself.
"I was thinking," I said softly, "we barely talk."
Rico leaned back slightly.
"We talk now."
I smiled a little more.
"Not really. You talk like you're always holding something back."
⸻
Silence.
He didn't deny it.
That was a start.
⸻
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice just a bit.
"I want to understand you," I said gently.
A pause.
Then I added, softer—
"We're married after all."
⸻
His gaze sharpened slightly.
Just a flicker.
But I noticed it.
Of course I did.
⸻
"You're curious," he said finally.
I nodded slowly. "Is that wrong?"
"No," he replied.
A pause.
"It's dangerous."
⸻
That word made something inside me tighten.
Dangerous.
Everything about him was that word.
But I didn't stop.
I tilted my head again, letting a softer tone slip in.
"I don't think you're dangerous," I said quietly. "I think you're just… misunderstood."
That was a lie.
A calculated one.
⸻
For the first time, something unreadable passed through his expression.
Not anger.
Not amusement.
Something else.
Something subtle.
⸻
"You think I'm misunderstood?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Yes."
I leaned in a little more, resting my chin lightly on my hand.
"And I think there's a reason you don't like talking about your past."
⸻
A pause.
Longer this time.
He studied me.
Like he was deciding something.
⸻
"You're trying to get information," he said calmly.
My heart skipped slightly—but I didn't show it.
Instead, I smiled softly.
"Maybe I just like knowing things about my husband."
Silence again.
He didn't respond immediately.
⸻
Then he stood up.
That simple movement changed the energy instantly.
Controlled.
Final.
⸻
"You use innocence well," he said quietly.
I blinked.
Caught.
⸻
"But innocence and intelligence are not the same thing," he added.
My smile faded slightly.
He walked past me slowly.
Stopping just behind my shoulder.
⸻
"And curiosity," he said softly, "is what gets people killed in my world."
My breath caught.
⸻
He leaned just slightly closer—not enough to touch me, but enough that I felt his presence completely.
Then he added, almost like a warning—
"Be careful what you try to uncover, Bella."
A pause.
Then colder—
"Some truths don't protect you."
⸻
And then he walked away.
Leaving me sitting there.
Still.
Silent.
And suddenly unsure…
If I was the one hunting him.
Or if I had already been caught.