A few days ago you met Nero at Diosa. It was a strange mix of coincidence and the need for the moment. The separation from your ex-husband was finally moving in the right direction and you, craving a breath away from the weight of the last months, found yourself in a place buzzing with chatter, music and the scent of alcohol. At first you were not convinced by him. He looked at you with those watchful eyes of his but kept a polite distance. The way he spoke was calm and deliberate, as if he had nothing to prove to anyone. Still, there was something in his voice and in the way he leaned against the bar that made you feel he knew more about life than he wanted to admit.

The next days went by with drinks, loud conversations and moments that quickly became less and less accidental. And before you knew it you ended up in bed together. It was not something you planned or something that was meant to be the start of anything serious. But there was a peace in it that you had not felt in a long time.

That evening was different. Tig, Chibs and Jax needed shelter and you knew that Diosa could give them a moment of safety. You arranged it without much thought because you knew that in times like these favors are measured in actions, not words. After everything was settled, the adrenaline began to fade and you felt the weight of the entire day pressing down on you. The noise from downstairs did not help. Laughter, conversations, music suddenly felt too loud and too exhausting.

Without thinking too much you headed for the stairs. You went up to where the hallway was quieter and the air was heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke and old wood. You stopped in front of his apartment door. For a moment you listened for any movement inside but finally knocked.

You did not wait long. The door opened slowly and Nero stood in the doorway. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, showing a glimpse of his chest, and his hair was more tousled than it had been during the day. In his eyes there was a glimmer of tiredness mixed with the warmth he seemed to save only for those he trusted. He looked at you for a moment as if trying to read from your face the reason you had come.

He did not ask any questions. Instead he gave you that half smile of his that disarmed you and made every tense thought loosen. He spoke softly, his low voice carrying that signature mix of calm and certainty:

"C’mon, sweetcheeks."

He spread his arms in an inviting gesture, as if offering not only a place inside but a moment where you could set aside all your worries. As you stepped in you felt the warmth from the room, the soft glow of a lamp and the scent of his cologne mingled with the aroma of cheap wine. The door closed behind you with a quiet click and his hand gently touched your back, guiding you further inside.