I step aside without a word. I turn and watch as Isobel shoots out of bed, her legs weak beneath her. The two collide like magnets.
I settle back down on the couch, the boys and I just letting them have their time. I can hear Isobel’s cries from the couch. I can sense what Maeve’s presence does to Isobel. She’s already defrosting her. She holds her, rocks her. Lets Isobel break in her arms, and somehow, Maeve is rekindling that light. Slowly but surely,my girlis coming back.
I wish I could’ve been the one to pull her back from that ledge. I wish it wasmyarms she’d collapse into,myvoice that could coax her out of the dark, but I don’t blame her.
I just hate that I can’t be what Maeve is to her—someone constant. Someone safe.
But I want to be. God, do Iwantto be.
So I wait, and I listen. I let Maeve do what I can’t—notyet.
The skyline stretches outbehind the glass that encases the office, an endless stretch of glittering towers and blinking lights. The city noise grinds below like an industrial machine. But here, it’s silent.
Not peaceful.
Calculated.
I’m not sure there’s ever been a calm silence in my father’s vicinity. No time to relax in his domain. Every move I’ve ever made has been analyzed. The only peace I’ve found was with the guys…and now,her.
When I was younger, the chances were few and far between to escape his watchful eyes, but I found any excuse I could. More training. Extra credit.Anything.Then true tranquility came when I got my license. I’d run his errands, do whatever he wanted. As long as it kept me in his good graces and in my car, far from him.
My father sits behind his desk like a general before war. Suit immaculate.His jacket’s open. Tie straight. Not a single hair out of place. I stand in front of him, a few paces away from his desk.
The same old tired routine of authority he’s enforced since I was young.Stand there. Keep Silent. Speak only when you’re spoken to. Don’t defy me.
The soft creak of his leather chair cuts through the silence as he leans forward, folding his hands. His ice blue eyes lock onto me like a sniper sighting down a scope.His expression is unreadable.
He’s playing a game. He always is.
“I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”
The words are casual. Deceptively so. But I’ve lived long enough to know better. Nothing about my father is casual. Every move is planned meticulously. Every gesture, a maneuver. Every word is a test to gauge reactions.
Gideon Ravencourt.
CEO ofHelix International Logistics. Weapons disguised as cargo, information buried in manifests. If it moves across the world, Helix has a hand in it.
“Been busy.” I mirror him. My voice is flat, no emotion.
“Busy,” he repeats, as if the word disgusts him.
The silence stretches. He waits—watching me—like a predator waiting for its prey to twitch and run. But I don’t flinch. I won’t crack. I learned from the best, after all.
Finally, he moves. Slowly rising, buttoning his jacket with precision.
“I’ve been patient, Jace.” He says, tone flat, “But patience,” he says as he circles the desk, “isn’t something I trade in often. I prefer stocks, shares, things that can promise me a return on my investment.”
I track him with my eyes as he stalks smoothly toward me.
“Lucian’s time is up and he knows it. The Guild is starting to doubt him. It won’t take much to push them into voting in my favor if I challenge him. I don’t have time to indulge in your little…therapy sessions with the Ashthorne brat.”
My jaw tightens. “We lost Tex.”
His empty blue eyes bore into me, his face blank.
“And? Pawns fall. That’s the cost of progress. Don’t tell me you’ve becomeattached.”
My hands twitch; I want to curl them into a fist, but I can’t. So I shove them in my pockets as casually as possible.
