My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 167

Sterling brushed the gauzy bed–curtain aside and stepped onto the polished floorboards. His clothing was already immaculate, yet faint crescent nail marks still blushed across the pale skin of his throat.

Zephyr’s brows lifted. The little firebrand even left her mark.

He angled his head, hoping to glimpse the enchantress who had made the ever–disciplined Soren throw caution to the wind.

Before that glimpse could land, Soren’s broad shoulders slid into the line of sight, a silent wall of irritation.

Won’t even let me look, huh? He guards that woman like treasure.

With the air between them humming, the two men strode out of the room.

“I’m fairly certain I spotted Ms. Fiona in Pearl Terrace tonight–dressed as a boy,” Zephyr said as they descended the stairs.

“Aren’t you here to arrest a criminal?” Soren asked, one cool glance cutting sideways.

“That fellow is far from easy prey. Cornelius will spare no trick to free him, so I never planned on a swift capture. Why waste the evening? A rare chance presented itself. If I can coax Ms. Fiona into becoming my concubine, why not take it?”

“A daughter of the Niven family would never set foot in a den like this,” Soren replied.

Zephyr’s smile sharpened. “Faces can hide anywhere. Unless you are stashing her away yourself, I will find her. You hardly have leisure for such sport.”

“If you don’t wish Cornelius to write you up for disorder, keep things quiet,” Soren warned.

Zephyr’s grin thinned to a knife–edge. “He would never let such a gift slip through his fingers.”

Soren did not reply.

When he returned to the room, Fiona still lay upon the rumpled quilt, eyes tracing the painted beams overhead, body motionless but mind clearly racing.

“Looks like you enjoy men as well,” Fiona said lightly, trying to chase the awkwardness from

the room.

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Chapter 167 Guard Like Treasure

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Sterling stood silent, the words hanging between them like unclaimed smoke.

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“I surprised even myself with the warmth I showed you today,” Sterling said at last, voice low, calm. “Perhaps, I’ve been missing you.”

Fiona had not expected the word to fall from his lips. For a heartbeat, she simply stared. “Do you even understand what it means–to miss someone?” she asked, voice softer now.

Sterling did not move. The silence stretched, then snapped as he answered, “I do.”

He offered no explanation. In his unfathomable eyes churned emotions too tangled to name.

Fiona asked nothing further. Longing and resentment are twins, she thought, and if a single face steals your thoughts this often, perhaps affection has already taken root.

Fiona leaned back, letting candlelight gild her lashes. With a teasing smile she cut through the charged silence. “Tell me, Sterling–do you pine for me, or for the wealth I carry?” She watched him, already weighing his motive.

Sterling studied her in unhurried silence, as though her question were a glass of wine best savored before answering. No flicker of embarrassment crossed his features. “Perhaps,” he said, voice steady. “Longing is a slippery word. I would not swear it is you I miss.”

Maybe it was simply her beauty that tugged at him; with a woman this lovely against one’s chest, even a monk might falter–especially when she had been his first.

Fiona offered no reply, her silence smooth as lacquer, yet her eyes remained alert, calculating.

She did not believe him. Men who thrived in Pearl Terrace never courted sentiment; they bartered it. More likely, Sterling was an observer someone had slipped inside this gilded cage.

Zephyr’s indulgent attitude toward the man suggested that whoever stood behind Sterling belonged to Zephyr’s own circle.

Fiona replayed every moment: he could not have mistaken her for a boy, he must have learned plenty from Zephyr, and he had already guessed she was the person Zephyr sought.

And now he chose to protect her. In that, only Soren’s interests aligned with hers.

“Does your benefactor reside at the Zonfrillo Estate?” she asked, voice casual yet edged like a testing blade.

Sterling’s brow lifted. “Why would you think so?”

She refused to explain. Instead, she reached for the note they had agreed upon. “Here–one

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