Irritatingly, it wandered back to him.
"Nero…" she whispered, the name barely audible as the word dissolved into the night air. She scowled softly at herself. It was ridiculous, how often his image surfaced when she was alone like this. His voice. His sharp, unreadable eyes. His calmness that somehow chipped at her walls. She clenched her fists beneath the water.
Yet… she didn't hate it.
With a frustrated sigh, she kicked off the wall and glided across the pool again, this time faster. Stroke after stroke, she pushed her body harder, each motion sharp and forceful. Splashes echoed under the villa's arches, her pale figure darting through the water like a ghostly arrow. Training—movement—was the only way she knew to drown out emotions.
