The thins we keep

The first normal thing Rowan did was go grocery shopping.

He insisted on it.

Kael suggested having the kitchen stocked by staff. Rowan said that was not the point. Lucien asked

whether the shopping trip was going to involve a bodyguard carrying a basket, and Rowan told him to

stay home and recover.

So the three of them ended up in a quiet supermarket on the edge of the city, with Marcus waiting

outside and two security men pretending to compare prices near the entrance.

“You're buying the wrong tomatoes,” Lucien announced.

Rowan looked into the basket. “There are different kinds?”

“Apparently. You need the firm ones.”

Kael picked up a packet. “These?”

Lucien examined it. “Those are cherry tomatoes.”

Kael put them back.

Rowan laughed so hard that a woman passing them glanced over. Kael gave him a look that

suggested he was reconsidering the entire idea of public shopping.

“You're both useless,” Lucien said. “Move.”

For twenty minutes, they argued over bread, pasta, fruit, and whether Kael’s idea of breakfast

counted as food. Rowan found himself enjoying it more than he wanted to admit. No one was running.

No one was shouting. They were simply three people pushing a trolley beneath bright supermarket lights.

At the checkout, Kael quietly added Rowan’s favourite chocolate to the pile.

Rowan noticed. “You remembered.”

“You mentioned it.”

“That was weeks ago.”

“I listen.”

The words were simple, but Rowan felt them settle somewhere deep.

Back at the penthouse, Lucien went to rest, and Rowan helped put the groceries away. Kael stood

beside him, holding a packet of cereal as though it were a complicated piece of evidence.

“You don't know where anything goes,” Rowan said.

“I know where things go.”

“Then why are you putting cereal beside the cleaning products?”

Kael checked the cupboard. “That was a mistake.”

“You're a very powerful man.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“And yet you can't organise a kitchen.”

“I have other strengths.”

Rowan turned, smiling. “Name one.”

Kael set the cereal down and stepped closer. “I can make you forget what you were arguing about.”

“That's not a strength. That's manipulation.”

“Is it working?”

Rowan tried to hold his serious expression. He failed.

Kael kissed him, slowly enough that Rowan had time to decide whether he wanted it. He did. He

rested his hands against Kael’s chest, feeling the steady beat beneath his palms.

When they separated, Kael brushed his thumb along Rowan’s cheek.

“I don't want you to feel trapped here,” he said.

“Then stop treating every door like it needs three locks.”

“I can't promise that.”

“I know.”

“But I can give you a choice. If you want to leave, I won't stop you.”

Rowan studied him. “Even now?”

“Especially now.”

It was the first time Kael had offered him freedom without attaching a condition to it. Rowan knew it

would take more than one conversation to rebuild trust, but the offer mattered.

“I’m not ready to leave,” he said.

Kael’s shoulders eased.

“Don't look so relieved. I’m staying because I want to, not because you have a security team.”

“I'll try to remember that.”

That evening, Rowan sat in the study going through the files they had recovered from the old club.

Most of the documents were ordinary financial records, but one name appeared repeatedly: Maria Santos.

He had seen it in the DNA report. His biological mother.

There was an address beside the name, an old residential block in the south district. The records

suggested she had worked for a Voss-owned company shortly before he was taken.

Rowan stared at the page.

Kael entered carrying two mugs. “You’ve been here for hours.”

“I found something.”

Kael placed a mug beside him and read the name. “Maria Santos.”

“She worked for Elena?”

“Possibly. The company was one of her fronts.”

“Can you find her?”

“I can try.”

“No threats. No men showing up at her door. If she’s alive, I want to speak to her myself.”

Kael nodded. “We’ll do it your way.”

Rowan looked up. “You say that now.”

“I mean it.”

He wanted to believe him. More than that, he wanted the truth about the woman who had given birth

to him. He had spent his life thinking he was unwanted, then discovered he had been stolen. The

difference should have comforted him. Instead, it left him with a thousand questions.

Kael pulled a chair close and sat beside him.

“You don't have to read all of this tonight.”

“I need to know.”

“You deserve to know. But you don't have to hurt yourself getting there.”

Rowan leaned back, tiredness finally catching up with him. Kael reached for his hand.

They stayed that way for a while, looking at the same page.

Outside, the city continued without them. Cars moved through the streets, people went home, and

shop lights flickered on. Somewhere beyond the penthouse walls, Elena was still making plans.

For the first time in days, Rowan allowed himself to think about something other than survival.

He wanted a mother who could explain what had happened. He wanted a home that did not feel

borrowed. And, despite everything, he wanted the man sitting beside him.

It was a frightening list.

It was also the first one he had made that contained a future.