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She engaged the brakes on my wheelchair and squatted at my side. Her shy smile had widened a fraction, as something passed behind her deep blue eyes. Before I had a chance to question her about it, goosebumps broke out over my arms.

Zak was here. I knew it even before I heard the rumble of his deep voice. “I offered her a job at Quantum, Pru.”

My head snapped up.

He stood at the entryway, dressed head-to-toe in black, looking like a fallen angel with his hands buried in the pockets of his cargo pants. Even from twenty feet away, I felt his commanding presence. But there was something else there too. A pull, a flicker of warmth in my chest that filled the void his absence had caused over the past month.

“You what?”

He grinned, and damn, it stole my breath. How was it possible for him to be even more gorgeous than I remembered? Fallen angel? Psh. Understatement. Zakhar Vlaschenko was Lucifer in the flesh, and the devil was set on winning my heart.

“I offered her a chef’s position”––his eyes flicked to Lennon––“though she hasn’t given me an answer.”

“Because I’m not in the habit of taking something I didn’t earn.”

“Fair enough. How about this? Quantum is closed on Mondays to restock after the weekends. I’ll give you access to the kitchen for however long you need it. Cook your best dish for a group of six. If your food is as good as Pru says it is, the offer stands.”

“Please say yes,” I begged shamelessly, grabbing her hand.

She hesitated at first, then blew out a breath. “Fine. Any allergies or preferences I should know about?”

“Assuming Daria is one of the six.” I looked at Zak for confirmation, and he nodded. “She’s allergic to mushrooms.”

“Great. Next week…minus fungus?” Lennon asked.

Again, he nodded. A second later he moved, closing the distance between us in a few long strides. His fingers curled around the arms of my wheelchair. Steel blue eyes softened as his minty breath whispered across my lips like a prayer when he said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” I croaked.

“Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here when you finally realize I’m in the room.”

“Daria?”

Zak moved aside, revealing my smirking sister with her arms crossed over her chest.

“When did you get here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time, but you’ve only had eyes for one person.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You can make it up to me later.” She winked. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Shit. Do I still have a home? I’ve been gone for six weeks and I haven’t thought about my apartment once. I mean my landlord could’ve used my security deposit, but that would only cover one month. And what about my other bills? Electric? Cable? Oh my god, what about my car? That bank wouldn’t have repossessed it that quickly right? I’ve got money in my savings, but I don’t think it’s enough⁠—”

I stopped mid-sentence when I realized I was spewing word vomit everywhere. My face flamed.

“I’m sorry. Forget all of that. Just tell me if I still have my apartment.”

Neither of them said a word. Daria side-eyed Zak, who looked anywhere but at me. I’d watched this man command a room full of powerful leaders without breaking a sweat. He was intimidating without meaning to be, but with one question, he was sweating more than a sinner on Sunday morning. Something was definitely up. Switching tactics, I focused my attention on the weaker of the two—my younger sister. I held her gaze, knowing she’d never been able to outlast me in a staredown. It took seven whole seconds before she broke.

“Zak paid your bills,” she blurted.

My chin dropped to my chest, eyes closed. With my thumb and first finger, I massaged the area directly above my eyebrows where a dull throb was pulsating. The one boyfriend I had in high school cheated. My parents, who were supposed to love me unconditionally, were unreliable at best, neglectful at worst. It had been me and Daria against the world for as long as I could remember, which was why I craved my independence. It meant never having to count on someone else or being disappointed when their promises turned out to be empty words.

But sometimes being independent was lonely. Every cell in my body ached for the kind of happiness I’d read about in books or watched on the big screen. The kind where love was a priority, not a burden.

“Which bills?” I eventually asked.