Chapter 110

Mia

Alex was spending the day with his younger brother and father at his dad's office. I was home with Sofia and Aurora, who had a meeting over lunch and would be back by evening.

At Alex's house, I was constantly watched. Lana, loyal only to her master, was impervious to my attempts to befriend her.

Alex had confiscated my phone, and there were no computers. Even if I found an iPad, they were password-protected, and I lacked hacking skills. I assumed any device was under surveillance.

I couldn't easily search online for fires near me in the last six months. But here, I could.

I felt guilty deceiving Sofia, but desperation compelled me. "Sofia?" I called, as she was engrossed in a book on the couch after lunch. "Yes, sweetheart?"

Her endearment intensified my guilt, but I dismissed it. I wasn't endangering her; I was merely being discreet, forced to by her son. "I broke my phone before our flight. May I borrow yours to make a call?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Sure."

She unlocked her phone and handed it to me. First, I dialed Jenny's number from memory, hoping I was right.

The phone rang unanswered for a long time. Then I remembered it was after lunch—she'd likely taken her medication and was asleep.

So, I dialed a nurse whose number I had for emergencies, praying she'd answer despite being at work.

"Hello?"

"Hi! June, is that you? It's me, Mia!" I said hastily.

"Mia?" she said, confused. "Jenny's Mia?"

"Yes! Thank God."

Sofia looked at me warily at my outburst, then left the room, likely assuming I needed privacy.

I kept my conversation with June brief so I could search online. June said Jenny was sleeping, and I asked her to tell Jenny I loved her and would visit soon, explaining an unexpected problem. I also asked her not to let Jenny call back on the number I used.

As soon as I hung up, taking advantage of Sofia's absence, I opened her internet browser. Remaining vigilant, I searched for news of fires six months prior in my city. Three had occurred in the same month.

One, a faulty fuse fire, killed Alina and her parents, leaving only Jenny. Two others occurred—one in a restaurant, killing one and injuring six; the other lacked detailed information beyond the location and homeowner.

Three fires. Hope surged, though I logically knew Alex might be involved in one, even if not Alina's. I could handle him being morally gray, but not the villain of my story.

Next, I searched for "Alex King." I wondered if he had a public profile, if the outside world knew anything about him.

Not much appeared, as expected, except a link to another girl: Hannah Terrano.

My eyebrows furrowed. That name seemed familiar. Was she his ex?

I clicked the article mentioning them, but before it loaded, a voice interrupted.

Startled, I jumped, nearly dropping the phone as I saw a younger Alex, with lighter brown eyes and a mischievous glint.

"You must be Mia," he said, his eyes suspicious. With trembling hands, I quickly closed the tab and deleted the browsing history.

"I—I am."

"I'm Ronan." He approached, studying me. "Alex was desperate to leave work today, like he feared you'd run away."

I gulped, unsure how to respond, hiding Sofia's phone behind my back.

His eyes narrowed. "Are you going to run away, Mia?"

"N-No."

"Good." A grin spread across his lips. "Because I'm going to teach you how to thoroughly annoy my brother when you return."

I chuckled nervously, setting the phone aside as he sat on the couch, gesturing for me to join him.

"Did you know Alex is allergic to pollen?" he said. "It's mild, but he hates it, considers it a weakness. He demanded immunotherapy for his fourteenth birthday."

I stared, unsure if he was serious. Realizing he was, I smiled. "That sounds like him."

"And… he hates sugar. He treats it like poison. The best way to annoy him? Put a teaspoon of sugar in his morning tea. It'll make him grumpy all day."

"Wait, what?" My eyes widened. "He hates sugar?"

"He hates anything sweet," Ronan said with a disgusted expression. "That man's made for bitterness and villainy."

"Are you sure he hates sugar?"

"Yes… why?"

"I'm a pastry chef," I mumbled.

Ronan's jaw dropped. "You mean you make desserts for him?!"

"After-dinner desserts," I mumbled.

"And he eats them?!"

I nodded painfully. "A piece or two."

Ronan stared at me before bursting into loud laughter. "He must really like you."

"No, he doesn't," I said, flustered. "He calls me an inconvenient pain in the ass."

Something twinkled in his eyes. "Want to try something?"

"Try what?" I asked, dubious.

"Come with me…" He stood and offered his hand.

"No…?" I hesitated.

"Just come." He grinned, and I reluctantly took his hand, letting him lead me to the kitchen.