Hi, I'm back! First of all, I would like to say Happy New Year to everyone! I know it's terribly late, but I've been quite busy, ergo just have the time to post this chapter now ._. anyway, I hope this chapter is worth the wait, and again, I hope I didn't make Stefano come as OOC here and I hope you guys can start to at least get a grasp of Kenno's relationship.

A HUGE thank you to my best mate, Madeline Axelle for her unconditional support, advice and just for generally being my best friend since the 5th grade. I love you gal! And also a shout-out to my other mate, Tahlia for her headcanon in which Stefano's suit is Armani and somehow it became the butt of our joke for days lmao

So you know the drill, read on, and if you like it, leave a review, if you don't, leave a review. Cheers.

"Come with me and you'll be

In a world of pure imagination

Take a look and you'll see into your imagination

We'll begin with a spin

Traveling in the world of my creation

What we'll see will defy explanation"

They emerged somewhere outside, far away from the bar that the building became a mere dot in her eyesight.

Kenna was slightly trembling with a more-than-mild headache, the after-effects from what had transpired rushed into her system like a chariot race. The chaos and inhuman roars in the air were the constant soundtracks in her ears that made the effort to mitigate the trouble within her almost difficult. With a defeated sigh, the woman closed her eyes shut and rested her forehead on a firm surface.

What in the actual fuck was that? She wondered weakly, dread freshly etched on her skin like an open wound. And no, she wasn't talking about that blasted ghost.

Somehow, even in her uncharted haze, she could still see everything in the back of her head in such an intricate detail had she hadn't remembered she was inside this bogus, virtual world, Kenna might have mistaken it for something real.

Or was it real?

No, Kenna convinced herself. She took a deep breath in the open air, trying to omit any unwanted thoughts in her head that would only relive these sort of feelings Kenna had had painstakingly reserved in her rear-view mirror. That part of her life was over. She was safe, Juli was safe, they had lived through the worst and survived. Even if her sister chose to carve her own path afterward, but that damnedest part of her life was over and she didn't want to think about it anymore.

Fucking hell, the things this place did to her. And not to mention the teleportation indeed made her body felt funny, as Stefano had forewarned.

Suddenly, her body went rigid.

Stefano… had that really been him? Kenna immediately pulled her mind back and raised her feeble head to confirm her suspicion. She found him only a hair's breadth away.

They were close— alarmingly too close that she could feel his warm breath tickling the surface of her cheeks, his eye, blue and attentive was staring right through hers whilst the veins that jutted out from his broken eye was a tangible imperfection that he seemed tried to hide. His cheeky grin ever so present. His arms still draped around her and Kenna pondered how could she have forgotten that she was in the arms of the man who'd tried to murder her the entire time. And the fact that she let him hold her like this.

The realization was like a bee sting to her that Kenna's eyes were the size of a saucer.

"What the fuck?! "

Kenna shoved herself hard from his embrace, repulsed by his touch. He laughed, of course, typically him being an asshole he was when Kenna groaned because her clothes and hair smelled precisely like his perfume now; oriental and spicy and it intoxicated her in so many different ways. While the scent fitted him like a hand into a glove, but this was Stefano, the fucking bane of her existence. Kenna looked like she could murder him right then and there as he kept chuckling with a sheer schadenfreude.

"Just when I was starting to get comfortable with having you in my arms, my dear, you just had to flit away. Che peccato! " Stefano sighed dramatically at the loss of her warmth as he smoothed out his purple jacket. Kenna couldn't see any creases in the fabrics though. Must be a habit.

She clenched her fists so tight that they left crescent-shaped marks on her skin, fire running hot in her veins. True, that her anger towards him was unquenchable, but at the same time, Kenna couldn't simply ignore to the fact that Stefano had been the one who got her out from whatever the heck was that back there. As much as she wanted nothing more than to snap his neck, she needed answers.

Well, not without a mandatory precaution, of course, as she unsheathed her shotgun and aimed it straight at his chest.

"You better give me one good reason why did you do that or I swear imma pop a shell right through that fucking Armani suit of yours, psycho!" Kenna demanded through gritted teeth. Her finger on the trigger, she was more than ready to end this bullshit once and for all if he tried anything funny.

Stefano clucked his tongue condescendingly.

"Mia cara, is that any way to thank your savior?" he placed a gloved hand on his heart with a feigned hurt look. "You wound me."

"Oh, there'll be more than just a wound if you keep that up, asshole. And I'd be more than glad to provide it for you."

Stefano's grin didn't show a sign to falter any time soon, however. If anything, it grew wider, fiercer, as if he was actually challenging her to shoot him. He was enjoying this, she could tell. And Kenna couldn't decide whether to be mortified or rejoice for it would make killing him much easier.

"Ah, you and your feistiness. How I've missed that. And no, I'm not here to cause you harm, if that's what you are so concerned about. In fact, that is the last thing I had in my mind," Stefano finally admitted, his countenance looking strangely earnest, but Kenna wasn't even remotely convinced.

"Like hell if you think I'm buying any of your horse shit."

"Clearly, you haven't been paying any attention, then, have you?" Stefano countered intelligently, his accented, smoky voice glided through the open space. "If my intention had been to do that why would I bother getting you out of there in the first place?"

"I don't know, you tell me. For all I know, you and lady freak seem to be sharing the same schtick," she retorted. Immediately regretting bringing that ghost to the conversation as soon as her face emerged in her head. Goddamn, that thing was creepy as hell.

"If you think that I would affiliate myself with such subpar creature, you couldn't have been more mistaken. Besides, there's no art in how that thing claims her prey. It's sickening."

Kenna scoffed. "And how's that even convincing at all?!"

Suddenly, with a flick of his hand, her leather jacket popped up from the thin air in a mystical, peculiar way that beyond her logical sense. The item was floating in mid-air like some puppet on a string before Stefano casually grabbed and offered it to her. Kenna was too stunned to response that she could only gape like a fool.

"Would this be enough to convince you?" He asked lowly, seizing Kenna's attention back to him. Once again, she was caught off guard under his intense stare. There was a split moment when Kenna almost let her guard down and actually reach out to the item. Almost.

"I was going to return this to you once I knew you were in the district. Well, until that little incident between you and the anima happened," the Italian man continued as if he could read her doubts like an open book. "Consider it as a peace offering from all the... appalling misunderstandings that happened between us."

Her brows crinkled at her jacket.

"A peace offering? You seriously expect me to forgive you for those vile things you did to me?" Kenna squinted at the man before him, the fringe of his dark locks was swaying gently from the wind.

"To Err is human, to forgive divine. "

"Don't quote the bible at me, asshole," Kenna spat, her voice rough. "And you can keep it. I ain't touching that thing no more."

As much as Kenna wanted nothing more than to reclaim her possession, but the fact that they had been in Stefano's hands for quite a time somehow lost its appeal. Damn. That was one of her favorite jackets.

Stefano shrugged nonchalantly, still cocky as ever even at gunpoint as he retracted his arm from her. "Very well, then. It would be my pleasure either way," he said offhandedly.

With gaze never leaving hers, Stefano subsequently raised the garment to his face with a lopsided grin and took a deep breath. "What's this? Vaninglia and jasmine?" he buried his aquiline nose on the collar once again, eye wide shut. This time, he inhaled longer. Kenna could feel her whole face lit up. "I have to say, you do smell wonderful," he finished with an exceedingly sly purr.

"Gimme that!" Kenna reached out and snatched the jacket from him, shotgun neglected and slung around her back.

The jacket felt strangely heavier than before. She thoroughly inspected each pocket only to find the rest of her possessions intact: her pistol, the communicator, her fingerless gloves— hell, even that shabby lighter was there. Odd. Frankly, Kenna was half-expecting some kind of cunning trap or another one of his element of surprise blowing up in her face, but so far, nil. She waited for a moment and still no signs of an impending trickery from him.

With a strained mute, she proceeded to wear the jacket and the gloves, feeling the familiar fabric covering her ivory skin. And he was watching, intently; teasing. She wore her best challenging expression in return, her gaze as sharp as the razor's edge, mouth set, she refused to be a shrinking violet under his lingering gaze.

"You keep staring at me like that, and I might as well shoot you now," Kenna uttered with pistol drawn, leveling it with her face as if she was trying to scare a pyromaniac with fire. Pointless. Stefano, at least, had the decency to look mildly amused.

"Such rudeness. And here I thought you'd be more willing to converse like what would civilized folks do."

Kenna made a displeased noise in the back of her throat as she holstered the pistol. "You expect me to be warm and fuzzy around you after a minor selfless action? Yeah, right."

"I admit, I was a little distracted by… other things, but I've gone past that now. Had I known the brilliance in that head of yours, I would have reacted differently."

"Like what? Dissecting my brains out?"

He chuckled, throaty and deep. "My dear, you do have a morbid sense of humor, don't you?"

"And you have a morbid sense of art," Kenna countered.

"Then that makes us both morbid creatures," he returned, and Kenna's mouth let out a wry, hollow laughter at that.

"No, no, no, don't even try to find a common ground between you and I. We're worlds apart."

Stefano hummed, but with a sharp derision in his tone as his face inched closer. Close enough that his scent began to invade her nostrils once again, her mind spiraling like Paris though not enough to bring discomfort. Surprisingly. Ergo, Kenna simply stood her ground. She simply resisted the urge to backpedal.

"Are we?" Stefano murmured dangerously low, he was staring at her lips, his expression indecipherable before he withdrew himself from the proximity. Kenna exhaled.

The two maintained their eyes on each other for a couple of seconds until she finally broke it, finding the streetlight behind him much more interesting than he did.

With hands clasped behind his back, Stefano started to walk around her in circles. Like Mercury orbiting the Sun. Their shoulders only inches away from touching and Kenna stilled in her place. She was in a vulnerable position here and if she was brave enough, crazy enough maybe she could try and make a run from him.

"I've been closely monitoring you the moment you entered Union," Stefano broke the silence, and Kenna had the impression that this was starting to become a full-blown conversation. "Your fighting skills are impressive, I have to commend you for that. But the fact that you are quite an art aficionado yourself simply… intrigues me. After you punched me and left me on the floor, I knew you aren't like the ones they've sent in before."

Kenna craned her head to survey him, her eyes critical and quizzical. "So, what? I know art and suddenly you want us to be buddies?"

"I don't see how that couldn't be the case."

"I don't even know you! And better yet, you tried to kill me!"

"Well, you're still alive, aren't you? And I saved you, wasn't that enough to compensate what I did to you?"

She wanted to answer no, but he did have a point there. Stefano could have killed her five minutes ago if that was his intention, but it didn't seem to be the case.

"If it makes you feel any better, perhaps I should reintroduce myself and try again, then?" Stefano inquired as his pace beginning to falter and stop. When he earned nothing from her he proceeded to harrumph and bow with a deep flourish. "Stefano Valentini, l'artista . The artist. And you are?"

Without bothering to spare him a glance, the woman crossed her arms over her chest in indignant. Her eyes scathing. Kenna tentatively thought if she should ignore him and let him made a fool out of himself.

"Kenna. The woman you tried to kill."

Stefano laughed outright much to her surprise. His voice held a genuine mirth. "You have a wicked tongue and a wild imagination. I love it!"

"Look, what are you trying to pinpoint here, Stefano?" Kenna exclaimed bitterly, her patience wearing thin. "What do you want from me?"

He remained silent and simply strode his way towards the streetlight with his back facing her. Stefano chose that exact moment to regard her over his shoulder, as if beckoning her to fill in the blanks for him. In the dim light, he was an imposing figure; his suit was glowing, his profile sharp and exquisite like a curio. Kenna quickly chastised herself for thinking such things.

But then a thought just clicked her head just like that. The dots were slowly connecting and whatever her plan on running away simply disbanded.

"You wanted something from me," Kenna finally said, loud enough that the silence between them broke. The almost knowing look on Stefano's face confirmed it, but he schooled his expression well and shrugged, as if to admit, you're sort of right.

"I'm thinking more if we could help each other, per se. I know what you seek after, what all of you seek after," Stefano smirked. "I told you I know about the Core."

The Core. Kenna had nearly forgotten that Stefano knew about it, and probably so much more than he was letting on. If anything, the man seemed to have lingered around Union longer than she could have imagined. This knowledge outweighed everything.

"But that is as far as I can reveal to you. Not when there are ears everywhere."

"Ears?" Kenna's brows snapped together. "Stefano, are there others like you in here?"

A dangerous look crossed his face. The intensity in his blue eye made Kenna wonder just want went through his head right now.

"There are. But he would do anything in his power to get the girl," he said.

"He?"

"Yes, he."

She waited for him to elaborate. "And? What about Sebastian Castellanos? Where is he?"

Stefano tilted his head to the side and smiled, but it wasn't threatening or cocky in any way. In fact, it was somehow kind and inviting. Any trace of anger simply vanished.

"Kenna, darling, you don't expect me to spill everything just like that, do you? Have you heard the saying that trust goes both ways?" Stefano teased and she merely glared. He made gave an indulgent chuckle as he made a beeline towards her. "How about this, why don't you come with me? I will answer your questions, just as long as you'll answer mine. This isn't the most pleasant place to have a conversation anyway."

"Come with you? Is this some kind of awful gimmick into getting me back to that chamber?"

"Che? No, of course, not. Kenna, I told you if my intention had been to kill or kidnap you, I would have done that the moment we escaped that bar," argued Stefano, obviously hurt by the accusation.

"Then you're mad if you think I'd follow you blindly to wherever you want to take me,' Kenna gritted out.

"Well, the thing about Union, my dear, is that we're all mad here. As for you, you're mad enough to be here," Stefano pointed out. "Alice was mad enough to follow the White Rabbit down the rabbit hole, the Queen of Hearts became mad because she tried to keep everything under her control, the Walrus and the Carpenter were predators that preyed on the innocents and the curious, and the Mad Hatter was basically, clinically insane. Madness is just a stupid label that those lunatics say to one another, you see?"

The irony was, Kenna was actually taking heed of this man's lengthy speech about insanity and deep down, she knew he was right. There was no doubt about it. But was she mad enough to actually comply with his demands and put everything on the line? She had so many questions dancing in her head, she was starting to have a misstep.

Conflict in her eyes flickered like a match and she scowled, but more at herself.

Kenna looked at him then. He was near again now, just an arm's length away. The breeze went past by their outerwear, dried leaves at his feet and she sighed loudly.

What was it with the man tonight that his personality somehow altered one-eighty-degrees from the pompous murderer she'd met a while ago? This was the man that had taken pictures of her without her consent, had made an attempt to murder her with music in the background, for god's sake. Who had saved her from the ghost and selfishly thought by returning her possessions he could redeem the vile things he had brought upon her.

She tried to gauge his expressions like a mouse eyeing a cat, wondering would she straight get eaten or tortured if she actually crossed the Rubicon. Or would she receive neither? Heavens, this was overwhelming. Closing her eyes shut as if they could grant her answers on the situation she was in. Her expectations low.

Finally, Kenna let all the constriction in her lungs took flight and let her instincts guided her.

"Fine. I'll play your little game, Valentini," she revealed, taking in the surprised look Stefano's face before it morphed into a grin. "But if you tried to kill me, I swear I'll tear you to pieces."

"I'd be surprised if you don't, frankly."

With that, Stefano spread his arms wide, gesturing for her to step closer that she reluctantly obeyed with deflated shoulders. Once again basked in his embrace, Kenna did her best keeping her arms at her side, her eyes fixated on the patterns of his scarf.

"Do we really have to do this everytime we teleport?" Kenna complained as she shifted her body more comfortably in his hold. Kenna could feel Stefano's chest rumbled as he chuckled, his nose ghosting over her hairline.

"No. I just like holding you in my arms, that's all."

She groaned and escaped from his grip like before, pouting whereas Stefano merely gave a cocky wink and confident smile.

Somehow, Kenna could tell she was going to regret this for a long time.

Che peccato!: What a pity
Mia cara: my dear
Anima: ghost
Vaniglia: Vanilla
Che?: What