Chapter 24
2385words
Lucian Sinclair’s Estate | Dining Area
Lucian had been up for hours already. Not working. Not pacing. Just… present.
He sat at the far end of the long dining table, coffee gone cold beside him, fingers loosely interlaced. The estate’s ground floor was quiet—the kind of quiet that wasn’t sterile, but lived-in. Soft morning light filtered through the tall glass windows, catching dust motes in a slow, drifting shimmer. Somewhere deeper in the house, footsteps moved—someone awake, someone familiar. But no one approached yet.
Ash entered first, bare-footed and yawning, a hoodie thrown over last night’s clothes. He muttered a soft “morning” without waiting for a reply, then dropped into a chair across the table and reached for a slice of bread someone had left out. Vex followed minutes later, tablet already in hand, a disheveled crown of curls barely tamed by a headband he probably didn’t remember putting on. Eli appeared next, dressed like he’d already been to the gym and back. He nodded once toward Lucian, then poured himself tea. Sebastian came in last, as precise as ever, carrying two fresh carafes of coffee and placing one directly in front of Lucian without a word.
The space filled slowly—not with noise, but with presence. Familiarity. No one said much. Not because they were avoiding something, but because silence wasn’t uncomfortable here. Not anymore.
And then, a soft shift. A rhythm breaking gently.
Kristina stepped into view.
She wore black again—one of Lucian’s shirts, loose over fitted pants. The sleeves were rolled past her elbows, her hair pulled back into a low twist that hadn’t been done with a mirror. She didn’t announce herself. She didn’t need to. The room noticed anyway.
Ash looked up first, and offered a grin that didn’t push too far. “You’re just in time. Vex was about to test if cold toast makes a better frisbee than hot.”
Vex didn’t look up from his tablet. “Still might.”
Kristina’s lips tugged upward, just a little. She stepped forward slowly—not cautious, just unsure if she was intruding on something unspoken. But no one shifted away. No one turned their eyes from her too long or too directly. They simply made space.
Lucian slid a chair out with his foot. Not a gesture. Just a quiet offer.
No one said it out loud, but something softened.
Vex, still hunched over his screen, tapped a few final strokes and turned the tablet around. “I updated the estate’s perimeter sweep with your patterns from the last training cycle. Also added a kill switch only you can access. I coded it in red. Because—well, you know.”
Kristina blinked. Then looked down at the screen. The interface was sleek, precise—streamlined in a way only Vex could manage. A small animated icon near the corner of the screen bore a familiar silhouette: a raven’s wings folded around a shield.
She let out a breath. Not a laugh exactly. But close. Quiet and real.
“Thank you,” she said, voice low but not strained.
Vex just shrugged. “Figured if you’re staying, might as well have a system that doesn’t fight you.”
From across the table, Ash grinned. “That’s Vex-speak for ‘you scared the hell out of me but I like you anyway.’”
Kristina smiled—barely. But this one reached her eyes.
Sebastian placed a fresh cup of coffee near her hand, then sat again without comment. Eli gave her a small nod from where he leaned near the window, arms crossed, gaze unreadable. But there was no tension in his stance. No distance in the way the room breathed with her in it.
Lucian hadn’t said a word.
He didn’t need to.
Kristina wrapped both hands around the mug. Let the warmth seep in. Let the quiet fill her chest the way it filled the room.
And for the first time since everything unraveled, the world felt less like something she had to survive—
—and more like something she might be allowed to stay in.
Lucian Sinclair’s Estate | Lucian’s Study
Late Morning
The house had thinned again after breakfast—no formal goodbyes, just the quiet drift of everyone returning to whatever rhythms made sense in a world still balancing on the edge of aftermath. Ash had disappeared into the lower level with a protein shake and a playlist. Vex mumbled something about server stress tests and was last seen plugging in three cables at once. Sebastian had gone out back, maybe to walk the perimeter, maybe just to breathe.
Lucian had retreated to his study—not exactly to work, but to sit with the documents he’d been avoiding all week. His eyes flicked over a half-drafted report, margins already annotated by someone in legal. He didn’t absorb a word.
The doorless entrance let in footsteps—measured, familiar.
“Need something?” Lucian asked without looking up.
Eli stepped in with a folder under his arm. “Just checking in before tomorrow. Making sure the documentation’s in order for the transition briefings.”
Lucian nodded. “Left it on the side table. The red tabbed ones are priority.”
Eli walked over, leafed through them quietly, then set the file aside and didn’t leave.
Lucian’s fingers hovered above the next page.
“You holding up?” Eli asked, tone casual but not careless.
Lucian glanced sideways. “Define ‘holding up.’”
“You didn’t punch anyone in the conference hall. That’s a good start.”
A half-smile ghosted across Lucian’s mouth. “Tempting as it was.”
Eli folded his arms, leaned his weight against the side of a shelf. “And Kristina?”
“She’s… here.” Lucian hesitated. “That counts for something.”
Eli gave a small nod, thoughtful. “It counts for a lot.”
He pivoted to leave, taking a step toward the hallway. Then paused.
Lucian felt it immediately—that weird static of someone still standing there. Watching.
Without looking up, he muttered, “Say it.”
He turned a page that he wasn’t reading. “Eli.”
Still no answer.
Lucian looked up. “What?”
Eli was still staring at him. Curious. Intrigued. And maybe a little too pleased with himself.
Lucian squinted. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I have a question,” Eli said, voice calm but his face not even trying to hide the mischief curling at the corners of his mouth.
Lucian blinked. “Then ask it.”
Eli took a slow, dramatic step closer. “But you have to answer me honestly.”
Lucian leaned back in his chair. “Oh God. What is this.”
“I’m serious.”
“You always say that before something deeply unserious.”
Eli held up a hand. “This is purely for my curiosity and peace of mind.”
Lucian narrowed his eyes. “Eli.”
Then Eli asked, completely deadpan:
“Is there something going on between you and Kristina?”
Lucian stilled.
For half a second, everything inside him just... stopped.
Eli’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh my God.”
Lucian blinked once. “What?”
“You didn’t answer,” Eli said, now grinning.
“I was surprised by the question!”
“Exactly! That’s a reaction. That means yes!”
“No, it doesn’t—”
“Oh my God. There’s something between you two. I knew it!”
“There’s nothing!”
“Lucian. I have worked with you for I don’t know how long. You think I haven’t seen that stare you do when she walks in the room?”
Lucian looked mildly horrified. “What stare?”
Eli folded his arms, smug. “The one that says, ‘I’d burn the world for you, but quietly.’”
Lucian ran a hand over his face. “You are absolutely not allowed to say things like that.”
“So there is something.”
“There is not something.”
“You hesitated again.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
Eli just grinned, but then his head tilted slightly. “Then what about the kiss?”
Lucian froze. Actually froze. Wide-eyed. Speechless. For once, he didn’t even attempt a defense—he just stared at Eli like his brain had short-circuited.
Eli’s grin widened. “Yeah. We saw you. I mean we. All four of us. Accidentally. We went back out right away, so we didn’t see much.”
He said it casually, like he was commenting on the weather. But the teasing was unmistakable.
Lucian blinked. “That... wasn’t a kiss.”
Eli raised an eyebrow. “Then what was it?”
“I just...” Lucian rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man. I just kissed her below her eyes. I don’t know what happened to me.”
Eli burst out laughing. “Oh, man. I think you’re in L.O.V.E.”
Lucian groaned. “Please leave.”
Eli chuckled and turned toward the door. “Just don’t make it weird for the rest of us when you start writing her last name in the margins of your notes.”
Lucian threw a pen at him. Missed.
Eli ducked and laughed all the way down the hall.
The sound faded, but the weight didn’t.
Lucian leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, as if the drywall might offer some kind of answer he hadn’t already mulled over in silence a dozen times.
He didn’t need to question what Eli had just accused him of—because it wasn’t a question at all. Not really.
He had known.
Somewhere between the hospital and the boardroom, between the way her silence hit harder than anyone’s words and the way her shoulders trembled just once when she finally let herself cry—he’d known.
He’d known in the way her presence grounded him. In the way her quiet carried more weight than most people’s declarations. In the way she walked into a room and the noise in his head finally quieted.
It wasn’t sudden.
It wasn’t a lightbulb or a fall or a dramatic snap of realization.
It was just there—undeniable, constant, threaded through his choices without permission.
Not new. Just unspoken.
Lucian let out a breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Not to escape it—but to let the truth settle where it already lived.
Yeah. He was in it. And the scary part wasn’t admitting it.
The scary part was that—for once—he didn’t want to run.
Lucian Sinclair’s Estate | Garden Overlook
The quiet wrapped around the garden like a second skin—soft, filtered through leaves that swayed just enough to stir the sunlight. It wasn’t a landscaped showpiece, not manicured for guests. It was just... there. Untouched, peaceful. A natural ledge tucked into the estate’s far end, where trees bent overhead and the city below felt a world away.
Kristina found him easily.
Sebastian was always here when the house got too loud—even when it wasn’t. He sat with his elbows on his knees, staring ahead at nothing in particular. A mug rested in his hand, half full, long gone cold.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just walked up, slow and quiet, and lowered herself to the stone ledge beside him. Her posture mirrored his—arms draped over her knees, head slightly tilted forward.
They sat like that for a while. No awkwardness. No expectation.
Sebastian didn’t turn to look at her, but he gave a quiet grunt—the kind that wasn’t irritation, just... acknowledgment. Familiar. Comfortable.
“You good?” he asked.
Kristina nodded. Or at least, tried to. Her shoulders moved.
Sebastian waited. He always did. He wasn’t the kind who pried—he just opened space for things to come out when they needed to.
“I need to say something,” she said finally.
His response was simple. Steady. “Then say it.”
A beat passed.
Then she exhaled.
“He kissed me.”
Sebastian didn’t react—not visibly. Not audibly. He just blinked once, still staring ahead.
Kristina turned to look at him, waiting for a flicker of surprise, or amusement, or even disapproval.
She got none of it.
Nothing in his face changed.
“We know,” he said. Calm. Easy. “We saw it.”
Kristina blinked. “What?”
“All four of us. By accident. We left before it got... awkward.”
Her brows lifted slightly, caught between disbelief and embarrassment. “And no one said anything?”
Sebastian finally turned his head, met her gaze. His eyes were steady. Kind, but unreadable.
“Didn’t seem like something you wanted talked about.”
Kristina looked away first.
She didn’t know what she expected—teasing, maybe. Judgement. Some clever remark about bodyguards crossing lines or getting too close. But Sebastian didn’t offer any of that. Just stillness. Just quiet.
And then, the question that landed with more weight than his tone suggested:
“How do you feel about it?”
Kristina didn’t answer right away.
She couldn’t.
Because she didn’t know how to name it—not exactly. It wasn’t fear. And it wasn’t regret. It was something else. Something harder to hold.
“I…” She hesitated, fingers curling slightly over the fabric at her knees. “I don’t know.”
But that wasn’t true.
She did know. She just didn’t want to admit it.
Because the moment Lucian touched her—slow, unforced, without demand—something inside her softened in a way that scared her. Not because it was wrong. But because it felt safe. And she had spent too many years convincing herself she didn’t need that.
She had trained herself not to need anything.
Not comfort. Not warmth. Not hope.
But Lucian hadn’t kissed her like someone claiming territory. He kissed her like someone seeing her. Like she wasn’t a weapon or a myth or a burden he had to carry. Like she was herself—just Kristina. And somehow, that had shaken her armor more than anything else ever had.
“It didn’t feel like a kiss,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Not the kind I know.”
Sebastian glanced at her. “That’s probably the point.”
She looked at him again—sharper this time, like he’d said something she hadn’t expected.
He shrugged. “Maybe you’re just not used to being treated like you matter.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Kristina swallowed.
She wanted to say something back. Argue, maybe. Say she had mattered, once. To people. To missions. To outcomes.
But that wasn’t the same.
Being useful was not the same as being seen.
She stared out across the garden again, throat tight.
Sebastian stood after a moment, brushing invisible dust from his palms. He didn’t push the moment any further. Just let her sit with it.
But before he walked away, he paused—one last glance over his shoulder.
“You don’t have to be afraid of wanting something good,” he said. “Not anymore.”
Then he turned and left her in the quiet again.
But the quiet felt different now.
Not empty.
Just honest.
And Kristina, for the first time in a very long while, didn’t feel like running from it.
Whatever this was… it wasn’t nothing.
—To be continued.
