Chapter seventeen : Shots Fired On and Off

Nicholas's POV

The restaurant buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses, the weekend energy settling in like a warm blanket. I wheeled through the entrance, spotting The heir already gathered at the corner booth like they owned the place.

Betty was talking with her hands like usual—dramatic enough to knock over a drink—and Mic was trying to slide in jokes faster than anyone could breathe. Anna and Steve were engaged in a hushed argument over whether the curly fries or the onion rings were "life-changing," and Henry? Well, he was doing that thing where he just stares at the menu like it might reveal a secret spell.

Cilia was there, tucked into the booth beside Betty, sipping something fizzy and biting her lip like her mind was somewhere else entirely.

"Hey, look who finally made it," Mic announced. "Our golden boy archer. You planning to shoot fries off our plates next?"

“Only if you keep talking,” I shot back, grinning.

Everyone laughed, and for a moment, it almost felt like everythin