Chapter 53
2198words
Sinclair Dominion HQ | Top Floor Conference Room
The boardroom was still, save for the subtle click of Harold Sinclair’s cane against the polished floor. Sunlight filtered through the panoramic windows, casting sharp lines of light across the obsidian table where directors sat in neat formation—some tense, some indifferent, most watching Lucian Sinclair with unreadable expressions.
Lucian stood at the head of the table, tall and composed, hands folded behind his back. On his right stood Eli Voss, sleeves rolled, eyes sharp and deliberate. Just a step behind Lucian’s left shoulder stood Kristina—silent, observant, and steady.
“This isn’t about vendettas,” Lucian began, voice low but commanding. “It’s about the integrity of Sinclair Dominion. Alistair Miller used company resources to fund illicit paramilitary activity. That alone is grounds for removal.”
A current of tension moved across the board. A few leaned forward. Others exchanged subtle glances. Harold said nothing—only observed.
“Do we have proof of this?” one of the older board members asked, his tone skeptical but guarded.
Without a word, Eli slid a leather folder down the table. “Financial transfers. Discreet arms shipments. Communications linked to rogue contracts dating back six years. All tied to Alistair’s access credentials. We traced it twice.”
Lucian’s gaze swept across the table. “If we let this rot fester any longer, it won’t just be on him. It’ll be on all of us.”
Another stretch of silence.
“What about his daughter?” another member asked. “Savannah’s been with the company for over a decade. Is she complicit?”
Lucian’s jaw tensed. “There’s no evidence connecting Savannah Miller to her father’s actions. If that remains the case, she’ll continue to have a place here—if she chooses to stay.”
That answer hung in the air, sharp and unwavering.
Then, Harold spoke. His voice was soft, but it carried weight like iron. “Let the motion be carried. Remove Alistair Miller from this board, effective immediately.”
The gavel came down with finality. A dynasty ended with a single strike.
Kristina, from her quiet post behind Lucian, said nothing. But her gaze never left the two men at the front—Lucian and Eli. The contrast between them was striking: one refined and unyielding, the other raw-edged and deliberate. Yet they moved in sync, like twin gears in a machine designed for storms. They didn’t need to look at each other to know their next move. For all their differences, they fit here.
Side by side.
Harper & Rye
The crisp air outside had given way to warm chatter and clinking silverware. The team had taken over a corner booth at Harper & Rye, the kind made for old friends and war stories. The mood had softened—finally.
Eli leaned back, laughing as Ash recounted a botched surveillance mission involving a misfiring drone and a herd of goats.
“You should’ve seen his face when the drone got stuck in that tree,” Ash said, grinning.
“I was aiming for altitude,” Eli shot back. “It wasn’t my fault the goat was an Olympic-level jumper.”
Even Lucian chuckled under his breath.
Kristina sipped her drink, watching the ease return to Eli’s expression. It had been days since that night in The Vault. He hadn’t brought it up again. Neither had she. But something between them had quietly resettled—a delicate truce, or maybe a space not ready to close yet.
The voice came from behind him.
A woman stood near their booth, mid-thirties, shoulder-length chestnut hair pulled into a loose braid. She wore a smart trench and a warm smile that brightened as soon as their eyes met.
Eli blinked. “Valerie?”
She grinned. “Holy hell. No glasses, a beard now… taller?”
He stood partway and hugged her briefly. “Valerie Lin. Wow. It's been what, fifteen years?”
Kristina looked up subtly from her glass.
“We were classmates back in high school,” Valerie explained to the table. “Eli used to sit two rows behind me in calculus. Solved puzzles in the margins while everyone else was trying not to fail.”
Eli smirked. “Still failing upward.”
Valerie laughed, then nudged him lightly. “I used to have the biggest crush on you, you know. But you never looked up from your cipher cubes.”
That got a round of chuckles from the table—except Kristina’s. Her smile was polite, but thin. She reached for her water glass without speaking.
Lucian, sitting beside her, glanced her way. Just once. His eyes lingered on the twitch in her jaw, the slight shift in posture. He said nothing, but the message registered.
Valerie turned back to Eli. “Hey, I’m actually in town for a few days. If you want to grab coffee or something, catch up properly…?”
There was a beat—just a blink—andKristina’s fork clicked against her plate, a sound no one commented on but everyone heard.
Eli hesitated for half a second, then smiled. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Valerie winked. “Same number.”
She waved at the rest of the group. “Nice meeting you all.”
As she left, Vex leaned toward Ash. “The vibe just shifted again.”
Ash smirked. “That’s two landmines in one lunch. Impressive.”
Kristina said nothing. But Lucian’s hand found the back of her chair—light, steady, and unmistakably there.
Sinclair Dominion HQ | Office of The CEO
Early Afternoon
Lucian moved behind his desk, silent as he sorted through files. Eli leaned against the edge of the window frame, arms crossed—the easy energy from lunch now replaced with something quieter.
Kristina sat in one of the chairs across from Lucian’s desk. She was uncharacteristically fidgety, fingers toying with the edge of her sleeve.
Ash, Vex, and Sebastian had entered minutes earlier, quiet as they stepped inside. They lingered near the wall, not quite part of the conversation but clearly paying attention. Vex leaned back against a filing cabinet, arms folded. Ash stood beside him, chewing gum and watching like it was prime-time drama. Sebastian said nothing, hands in his pockets, unreadable as ever.
A beat passed before Kristina said, casually—too casually—
“I didn’t know you and Valerie were classmates.”
Eli raised a brow. “Yeah. Senior year. Different circles though.”
She nodded slowly. “She seemed to remember you well.”
Then, after a pause—softer, not quite looking up:
“Really well.”
The room went quiet for half a second too long.
Ash tilted his head toward Vex and whispered, “I think she’s jealous.”
Vex didn’t look away from the unfolding scene. “Lucian is too.”
Eli blinked. “It was over a decade ago. We weren’t— It wasn’t anything.”
Lucian, still flipping through a file, stilled—just for a breath. He looked up, slow and deliberate, his gaze settling on Kristina with a quiet intensity.
“Sounds like someone paid a lot of attention.”
He didn’t say it with anger. But it wasn’t nothing either.
Kristina’s jaw tightened. “I was just making an observation.”
Eli gave a quiet laugh—not mocking, but not unaffected. “You okay there, Krissy?”
She shot him a look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Lucian closed the folder with a soft snap. “Because that didn’t sound like just an observation.”
Kristina opened her mouth. Then closed it again.
Lucian’s voice dropped slightly—low, firm. “You don’t have to be jealous.”
“I’m not,” she replied quickly—too quickly.
Lucian stood and walked toward her, not looming, but definitely closer than before.
“You don’t have to lie to me either.”
She met his eyes, heat rising in her cheeks. “I wasn’t lying. I just… she looked at him like she still had a claim.”
Eli didn’t smile this time. He didn’t look away either.
“She doesn’t,” he said quietly. “You know that.”
The air turned heavier—taut and still.
Ash gave Vex a sharp nudge. “Okay, this is getting intimate.”
Lucian looked at Kristina a beat longer, then turned his gaze to Eli.
“Maybe don’t give people ideas. Especially ones who knew you when you were solving cipher cubes in your sleep.”
Eli smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I didn’t bring her to the table, man.”
“No,” Lucian said, stepping back toward his desk, voice cool but even. “But she looked at you like she wanted to sit across from you again.”
Vex raised a brow and muttered, “Damn.”
Kristina stood, clearing her throat. “Alright. That’s enough ego-stroking for one day.”
Lucian’s lips twitched, faintly.
“That wasn’t his ego I was stroking.”
Eli groaned. “Seriously. I am still in the room.”
Ash threw up his hands. “And so are we. Thanks for the trauma.”
Kristina shook her head and stepped back. “I need a minute. Fresh air.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked out.
Ash waited three beats, exchanged a look with Vex—who was already smirking—and followed her out the door.
Sinclair Dominion HQ | Hallway Outside the Executive Office
Ash fell in step beside Kristina the moment they stepped into the hallway. “You okay?” he asked, low enough that it wouldn’t carry.
Kristina didn’t answer right away. She kept walking.
Ash gave her a sidelong glance. “So, we’re doing the whole ‘I’m not jealous, but I’ll totally bring up his high school history with another woman’ thing now?”
She stopped, groaning softly under her breath. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Uh-huh,” Ash said, popping his gum. “It kinda was.”
She glared at him.
He grinned. “Relax. It was subtle. Well… mostly.”
She turned, ready to snap something back, but then her expression shifted. “Did everyone notice?”
Ash tilted his head. “Vex did.”
Kristina exhaled through her nose, pressing a palm to her forehead. “Of course he did.”
Back in the office, Vex didn’t move right away. He stayed leaned against the filing cabinet, eyes still on Lucian, who had returned behind his desk and was now very deliberately not looking at the door Kristina just exited.
“So,” Vex said, voice as dry as dust. “You gonna pretend that didn’t rattle you?”
Lucian glanced at him. “Shouldn’t you be annoying someone else?”
Vex smiled. “Usually. But this is more fun.”
Lucian didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
Vex pushed off the cabinet and moved toward the door, muttering as he passed Eli, “You might want to stop reuniting with your fan club. She doesn’t love that.”
Eli gave a faint snort. “Yeah. I got that.”
Sebastian, still leaning against the far wall, shifted his gaze briefly to Lucian, then to Eli, then back again. He didn’t say a word. But the look said everything.
Muted sunlight streamed through the high windows, painting long golden shadows across the sleek flooring. The quiet was different here—still, but not empty. Distant echoes of laughter and voices filtered in faintly from the outdoor patio below.
Lucian stood near the bar counter, nursing a glass of something dark and expensive. His jacket was off, sleeves rolled. He wasn’t working—just there, unmoving, eyes distant.
Sebastian entered, slow and quiet, a mug of tea in hand.
He didn’t speak right away. Just settled on the couch across from Lucian, watching him in that calm, unshakable way of his.
After a long moment, Sebastian said simply, “You’re quiet.”
Lucian gave a soft exhale, more air than sound. “There’s a lot to think about.”
Sebastian took a sip. Then: “What was that, earlier? With Kristina.”
Lucian didn’t look at him. “What about it?”
“You’re pretending it didn’t get to you.”
Lucian’s jaw tightened faintly. “Because it’s not the point.”
Sebastian tilted his head. “You’re telling me it didn’t bother you? Watching her spiral over Eli and some girl from high school?”
Lucian didn’t answer right away. His fingers traced the rim of his glass.
Finally, quietly: “Of course it bothered me.”
Sebastian set his mug down gently. “Then why act like it didn’t?”
Lucian looked down, brow furrowed. “Because she’s conflicted. She’s allowed to be. She’s still figuring it out.”
A beat passed.
Sebastian’s voice lowered. “But what if it’s not just confusion? What if she does love him? What if it’s always been him, and she just hasn’t realized it yet?”
Lucian looked up at that—eyes meeting Sebastian’s, hard and uncertain all at once.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
Sebastian studied him. “Then maybe you shouldn’t let Eli stay. It might ruin everything if he does.”
Lucian shook his head slowly, voice quiet but resolute. “No. Whatever happens… depends on Kristina.”
He stepped away from the counter, pacing a few steps, then stopped.
“I don’t want to lose her,” he continued, “but I won’t force her. And I won’t make Eli choose either. Not when neither of them are sure what they want yet.”
Sebastian’s expression softened. “You really think that’s the right call?”
Lucian looked out the window, where distant silhouettes—Kristina’s among them—moved in the fading light.
“I don’t know if it’s the right call,” he said. “But it’s the only one that respects all of us.”
Silence settled again, thick but not hostile.
Sebastian picked up his tea, letting the words sit.
Lucian didn’t move. He just watched the horizon, still and silent, as the sun began to dip.
Sebastian didn’t say anything else—but he watched Lucian for a long moment. Quietly, inwardly, he wondered if respect would still be enough when hearts finally started choosing sides.
Because eventually, one of them would.
And the fallout wouldn’t be quiet.
Some storms don’t need thunder to split the sky.
—To be continued.
