Chapter 69
2174words
Zurich | Hotel Belvedere | Suite 1107
Late Morning (CET)
Last night had ended in quiet exhaustion. After the chaos, the gunfire, and Kristina’s furious pursuit, the three of them had found their way back to the suite—physically unhurt but mentally frayed.
It had taken both Eli and Lucian to calm her. Not with force—never with force—but with presence. They’d coaxed her to bed, drawn her away from her anger and frustration, anchoring her back to the here and now. Eventually, after enough whispered reassurances and the steady weight of their arms around her, Kristina’s breathing had evened. She’d fallen asleep between them, her hand loosely curled into Lucian’s shirt, her leg hooked over Eli’s like she was afraid of letting go of either.
Morning filtered pale through the half-drawn curtains. Eli was awake first, the stiffness in his neck a reminder of where and how he’d slept. Lucian stirred not long after, careful not to wake the woman between them.
They stayed there for a moment in silence, both watching her. She looked younger like this—unguarded, lips parted slightly, a slight crease between her brows even in sleep.
Eli’s voice was barely above a whisper. “About the other night…” He trailed off, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I didn’t think I’d—” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I just don’t want you thinking I was trying to take something from you.”
Lucian didn’t answer right away. His gaze lingered on Kristina’s face. “You didn’t take anything,” he said at last. “If anything, you gave her something I couldn’t in that moment.”
Eli exhaled slowly, almost like he’d been holding that breath since dawn. “You’re… handling this a lot better than I would.”
“Maybe,” Lucian murmured. “Or maybe I’ve learned it’s better to hold on to what matters than fight over how it’s held.”
Lucian’s eyes drifted from her to the window, where morning light spilled over the rooftops. “I’ve known for a long time that Kristina can’t choose between two things,” he said. “Four months after she started with us—remember Dr. Castillo? We met him at the mall. You saw that she knew him. He was her psychologist. My grandfather referred her to him.”
“I knew she was talking to a psychologist,” Eli said. “Maxim told me. But I never knew you knew him.”
Lucian gave a faint nod. “Yeah. Anyway, I asked him about something once. I’d seen her in the kitchen with two bowls of ice cream—different flavors. I asked her why, and she said she loved both and might regret not having either one. Another time, I walked into the library and she was holding two books—different genres. Same answer.”
He paused before continuing. “Dr. Castillo said it has something to do with her OCD. Kristina has a long-standing difficulty making a final choice between two equally important options. It’s part of how her OCD works—she fixates, she sees both as necessary, and the idea of letting one go can cause intense anxiety.”
Eli’s mouth pulled into a slow, knowing half-smile. “I saw that too… even then, she never picked just one. I get it now.”
Eli let out a breath, as if finally letting go of something he’d been holding for months. He looked down at her, watching the way her hair spilled across the pillow. “If keeping her means sharing her, then… I’ll take it. Any day.”
Lucian studied him for a long moment, and in that silence, something unspoken settled between them—not agreement, not surrender, but a mutual decision to stay in the fight.
After a while, Lucian said, “We should take her out today. Somewhere she won’t have to think about… any of this.”
Eli’s brow lifted. “Any ideas?”
“There’s a place outside the city,” Lucian said. “Quiet. Old stone streets, a lake that looks silver in winter. She’d like it.”
Eli smirked faintly. “I was thinking more of the little café I found the last time I was here. Warm bread, terrible coffee, the kind of place she’d complain about but secretly love.”
Lucian gave him a dry look. “We’ll see which one she picks.”
Eli huffed a quiet laugh. “Fair warning—I’m winning that vote.”
Lucian didn’t answer, but the faint glint in his eyes said otherwise.
Kristina stirred between them, a slight crease forming between her brows as if waking had found her before she was ready. Her lashes fluttered, brushing the warm skin of Lucian’s arm.
For a moment, she didn’t move—just breathed, the rhythm slow and steady in the hush of the room. Then her eyes opened, hazy with sleep.
Lucian’s hand shifted from where it rested near her shoulder, his fingertips grazing her arm. “Morning,” he murmured, so low it almost blended with the radiator’s hum.
Her gaze flicked from him to Eli, as if to reassure herself that both were still there. “Morning,” she whispered back, her voice still frayed from sleep.
Eli’s hand found hers under the blanket, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles over her knuckles. “You were out for hours,” he said softly. “Didn’t even stir when we moved.”
A hesitant smile curved her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Guess I felt… safe.” She hesitated, then added more quietly, “Didn’t think that was possible anymore.”
Neither man spoke at once. The silence that followed was full but unhurried—three heartbeats moving in sync, the weight of the night before still hanging between them like an unspoken pact.
Lucian reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “It’s possible,” he said. “At least here.”
Kristina’s gaze drifted between Lucian and Eli, the closeness and warmth overwhelming, a pull she wasn’t sure she could resist.
Eli didn’t let go of her hand. If anything, his grip deepened, the circles his thumb traced no longer absent-minded. He was watching her as though he could read every flicker behind her eyes. “You’re quiet,” he said. She gave a small shrug. “I’m… taking this in.”
Lucian’s voice was low, steady. “And what are you deciding?”
Kristina swallowed, suddenly aware of the heat beneath the blankets—the way her bare knee brushed Lucian’s thigh, the way Eli’s palm covered hers completely. “That maybe… I don’t want to move yet,” she admitted.
Neither of them moved either.
Lucian’s fingertips grazed her jaw, trailing down the line of her throat—not possessive, but claiming the space as his to touch. Eli, almost in counterpoint, slid his hand from hers to rest lightly over her ribs, his thumb feeling the shallow rise and fall of her breath.
Her pulse fluttered under their touch, goosebumps rising. When her eyes opened, hazy and unfocused, the air between them felt like a shared heartbeat. A shaft of pale morning light spilled across the blanket, highlighting the quiet stillness of the room.
Eli’s hand, resting near her shoulder, shifted. He leaned in slowly, careful not to wake her too abruptly, and pressed his lips to the warm curve of her neck. She drew in a sharp breath, a shiver rippling through her that made the fine hairs on her arms rise.
Lucian’s gaze never moved from her face. The faintest reaction—her goosebumps, the way her lips parted in the smallest sigh—made his own hand lift. His fingers traced the inside of her wrist, deliberate and slow, until her pulse was a steady flutter beneath his touch.
Kristina blinked slowly, taking in the warm light and the steady presence of both men beside her. Eli’s thumb brushed hers once more, soft and grounding, while Lucian’s fingers lingered along her wrist.
Eli murmured, his voice low, almost teasing, though there was an unmistakable gentleness beneath it. “No more sleeping in, though. We’ve got a day to plan.”
Kristina let out a small, reluctant laugh, still resting her head partly on Lucian’s shoulder. “Planning a day… with you two?” Her voice carried just enough humor to mask the flutter in her chest.
Lucian shifted slightly so that he could brush a lock of hair from her forehead. “Yes,” he said simply. “Somewhere quiet. Somewhere you can… just be. No surprises, no threats, no chasing shadows.”
Eli’s gaze met Lucian’s for a brief moment, a silent agreement passing between them. “And then, the café you like to complain about.” He added, glancing at Lucian. “Lucian’s got a quiet lake and stone streets outside the city. She’d like that too.”
Kristina turned her gaze from Eli to Lucian, then back to Eli, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “Do I get to choose?”
Lucian’s lips curved in the smallest, almost imperceptible smile. “We’ll let you decide,” he said. “Within reason.”
Eli leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think I already know which one you’ll pick.”
“Is that so?” Kristina asked softly, though she could hear the warmth and amusement in his voice.
Lucian’s hand lingered on her wrist, steady, grounding. “Maybe. Or maybe we’ll see which one wins once you’re up and moving,” he said, voice low and certain.
For the first time since waking, Kristina felt a quiet anticipation—a calm that wasn’t fear or tension. She had both of them here, fully present, their patience and care unspoken but tangible. And for the moment, that was enough.
The three of them finally eased out of the bed, lingering only long enough to savor the quiet intimacy that had settled over the room. Eli moved to the small kitchenette area, flicking on the coffee maker, while Lucian checked the view from the window—snow still drifting lazily across the rooftops.
Kristina pulled the blanket around her shoulders and wandered over to the small dining nook. “Can we… have breakfast here?” she asked softly. “Just something simple. I don’t want to rush.”
“Of course,” Lucian said, already moving to set a plate of fruit on the table. Eli brought over two cups of coffee and a small tray of pastries. The routine was calm, domestic almost, the air between them filled with quiet companionship.
They ate slowly, sharing small smiles and easy silence, the kind that didn’t need words. When the last crumbs of croissant had disappeared, Kristina looked up at them with a hesitant smile. “So… can we go to both places today? The café and the lake?”
Eli and Lucian exchanged a glance, brief and knowing. Their eyes said the same thing without a word: she wasn’t going to choose.
Lucian’s mouth curved slightly. “Then we’ll do it your way,” he said. “First stop… the lake outside the city. It’s quiet there now—perfect for winter.”
Eli leaned back, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And after that, we can swing by the café. You know, for the terrible coffee and the bread you secretly love.”
Kristina laughed softly, the sound light, almost incredulous. “You two… make it too easy not to pick both.”
Lucian’s eyes softened as he reached for her hand. “We’re not here to make choices for you. Just… to be with you. That’s enough.”
Eli nodded in agreement, his thumb brushing against hers under the table. “And she’ll tell us which place she wants first,” he added. “Or maybe she won’t—and that’s okay too.”
Kristina’s gaze flicked between them, warm and uncertain, but steady. “I like that,” she said quietly. “I like that a lot.”
The three of them lingered a moment longer, savoring the last bits of breakfast, before gathering their things for the day outside the city—snow falling softly beyond the windows, the promise of a quiet adventure stretching ahead.
Kristina stepped into the suite’s small dressing area, letting the soft morning light spill over her. She chose a fitted black turtleneck, black slim trousers, and her knee-high leather boots, all practical for winter yet elegant in their simplicity. Her long hair hung loose, brushing her shoulders, giving her a soft frame against the darker tones of her outfit.
Lucian mirrored her palette with a black wool coat over a charcoal sweater and dark trousers, boots polished but muted. Eli opted for a dark gray coat and black scarf, the colors blending into Kristina’s without looking uniform. Together, they were understated but commanding, a quiet symmetry in movement and tone.
Kristina took a final glance in the mirror, then stepped toward the suite door. When they stepped outside, Ash and Vex were posted on either side of the hallway, eyes sharp and alert, while Sebastian stood directly in front of the door, facing them with his habitual, unflinching precision.
As they left the suite, Lucian’s voice was calm, low, carrying the authority they all recognized. “Stay behind. Enjoy the day if you want, but don’t follow. We’ll handle this ourselves.”
Ash gave the briefest nod. Vex’s lips quirked in a half-smile. Sebastian’s gaze didn’t waver, but his posture relaxed just slightly.
Kristina took a small breath, feeling the weight of both their presence and absence, then stepped out into the corridor, Lucian and Eli close behind, ready for the day ahead.
The day stretched ahead, quiet and full of unspoken understanding.
—To be continued.
