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Noah stirred, his little face scrunching against Red’s chest before he let out a sleepy groan.

“Good morning, Mommy…” he mumbled, his voice muffled and heavy with sleep.

Red’s heart softened instantly. She stroked his hair back, kissing his forehead. “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”

Noah nodded against her, still clinging. “Mhm… I had a dream. Daddy was a superhero. He saved us.”

Red chuckled softly, her eyes misting. “Well, that sounds just like your daddy, doesn’t it?”

Noah pulled back a little, grinning up at her, his hair a messy halo. “Can we have pancakes today? With lots of syrup?”

She tapped his nose playfully. “Only if you promise not to spill it all over your shirt this time.”

Noah giggled, throwing his little arms around her neck. “I promise!”

The door opened then, and the maid entered with a polite smile. “Good morning, ma’am. I’ll take over with Noah now.”

Red kissed her son’s cheek one last time before gently easing him into the maid’s care.

“I’ll be back soon, baby,” she whispered, brushing his curls.

“Don’t be long!” Noah called, already bouncing with excitement about his pancakes.

Red smiled faintly as she turned to leave, though her steps carried the weight of all the questions swirling in her chest.

Red pushed open the bedroom door, half-expecting to find Nico still tangled in the sheets.

But the bed was neatly made. Empty.

Her brows furrowed as she strode in, her eyes scanning every corner. “Nico?” she called softly, her voice edged with unease.

No answer.

She checked the bathroom, pushing the door open to the sound of dripping water from the faucet. The towels were untouched, the shower bone dry.

Red’s chest tightened. She stepped back into the silence of their room, her whisper sharp and low.
“Where the hell is he?”

Her fingers curled into her palm as she stood in the middle of the room, the unease from last night creeping back stronger than ever.

The faint rumble of an engine reached her ears, vibrating through the walls. Red froze, her heart leaping.

She rushed to the balcony doors and pulled them open, leaning over the railing just in time to catch sight of Nico’s sleek car rolling down the drive.

Her chest sank. “Oh no…” she breathed. “Mr. Bellamy, leaving for work without even kissing me goodbye?”

Without thinking, she gathered her robe tighter and jogged out of the room, her bare feet padding quickly against the polished floor.

She turned a corner too fast and nearly collided with a maid carrying a basket of linens.

“Ah! Ma’am—” the maid gasped, stumbling back.

Red steadied herself, cheeks flushed. “Sorry—sorry, I’m in a hurry!” she muttered, brushing past, her eyes still on the door Nico had just exited through.

Her pulse raced as she quickened her pace, desperate to catch him before he was gone completely.

Red burst out the front doors just as the last glimpse of Nico’s taillights disappeared past the gates.

She stopped at the steps, breathless, her robe fluttering in the morning breeze.

“Damn it…” she muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing at the empty drive.

Her thoughts spun. What the hell is he doing leaving so early? Her hand flew up, raking through her messy bun in frustration.

Then it hit her—last night.

The way she had teased him, pushed him away when he’d wanted her close. Her lips parted, worry flooding her chest.

“Wait…” she whispered to herself. “Is he still mad about last night? I hope not…”

She bit her lip, staring at the road long after his car had vanished, the uneasy ache gnawing deeper with every second.

Red walked back inside, her steps slower, heavier. The mansion felt too big without him, every corner echoing her unease.

She settled on the couch in the sitting room, her phone resting in her palm. Any second now, she told herself, it would light up with his name.

Minutes stretched. The clock ticked. The maids came in quietly with breakfast—fresh pancakes, warm tea, fruit laid neatly on a tray.

“Ma’am, should we—”

“Not now,” Red cut in softly, shaking her head without even looking up. Her stomach was in knots; food was the last thing on her mind.

She kept her eyes on the screen. Waiting.

Ten minutes. Thirty. An hour. Nothing.

Her jaw clenched. Finally, she exhaled sharply, snatching the phone off the cushion.

“Fine,” she muttered. “If you won’t call me, I’ll call first.”

Her thumb hovered over his number, her pulse racing at the thought of what she might hear—or not hear—on the other end.

Red pressed the phone to her ear, pacing the length of the room.

The line rang and rang, each beep twisting deeper into her chest until it clicked over to voicemail.

She pulled the phone away, staring at the dark screen. Her throat tightened. He didn’t pick up.

The hours dragged after that. She sat by the window, phone clutched in her hand, watching every car that passed the gates, hoping it would be his.

But Nico didn’t call. He didn’t text.

By late afternoon, her body ached from sitting so long, her nerves frayed.

Then—finally—the sound of an engine hummed up the drive.

She shot to her feet. Her heart raced as the door opened.

Nico stepped in, tall and composed, removing his jacket as though nothing had happened.

His face was expressionless his eyes sliding past her like she wasn’t even there.

Her lips parted. “Nico…”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even glance her way.

He walked past her with the sharp silence of a storm contained, leaving her standing in the middle of the room, stunned.

Her chest tightened, tears pricking at her lashes.

Red lingered in the hall, her fingers twisting in her robe as she watched him stride back down with fresh keys in hand. His cologne drifted past her.

She swallowed, gathering courage.
“Nico… can we talk?” her voice cracked softly.

He didn’t slow, didn’t meet her eyes. “No. I’m busy. Later.”

Before she could say another word, Noah came bounding down the stairs, his little shoes half-tied.
“Daddy! Are we still going?”

Nico’s face softened for the first time that day. “Of course, champ. Let’s go get that ice cream.”

Red’s chest twisted as she watched her husband scoop up Noah’s hand and lead him out, their laughter echoing against the marble as the front door clicked shut.

Minutes later, Red’s phone buzzed in her palm, slicing through the silence.

She lifted it to her ear.

“Hello?”

A cold, formal voice answered.
“Are you Mrs. Bellamy?”