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Chapter 32 — The Three Brothers

last update Last Updated: 2025-12-04 18:46:41

Adrian — The Analyst

Sophie didn’t notice that I watched her long before she ever approached me.

Not inappropriately — but observationally.

I notice people.

Patterns.

Microexpressions.

Stress signatures.

She walked into the conference room with the posture of someone trying to disappear without being invisible. Shoulders slightly tucked, hands composed but tense, eyes that carried too many unspoken memories.

I read work.

I read data.

But I also read people.

When I shook her hand, I felt the faint tremor of uncertainty — not weakness — uncertainty. Those two are not the same.

She didn’t know it, but I already admired her.

Her reports — her analysis of demographic behavioral shifts — were not just precise. They were empathetic. She saw people without judgment. She read markets the way I read faces.

I could work with a hundred professionals.

But someone with insight?

That’s rare.

When she left the room, the air felt… quieter. Like she had brought something with her and taken it away.

Lucian would see her potential.

Cassian would see her heart.

But me?

I saw her resilience.

And resilience is what makes someone formidable.

Lucian — The Spark

When she turned that studio corner and froze, I felt it.

The shift.

Her eyes widened — not in awe — in recognition.

Not of me.

Of energy.

Of force.

Most people flinch when I look at them.

They scramble.

They fawn.

They retreat.

She… stood there.

Afraid?

Yes. I saw the flicker.

But not collapsing.

I like that.

When she admitted she wrote the adaptive pitch, I watched her body language. The doubt. The instinct to retract. To soften the boldness. To apologize for daring.

And I cut her off deliberately.

Because I wanted to see what would happen when someone validated her audacity instead of punishing it.

Her ideas were daring.

They disrupted.

They challenged.

That’s what I want.

In business.

In life.

She has fire — buried, yes — but waiting.

And I want to be the one who brings it out.

Not gently.

Not patiently.

But unapologetically.

She thinks I am overwhelming.

Good.

The world doesn’t bend for the gentle.

It breaks for the relentless.

And I intend to see what Sophie becomes…

when she stops apologizing for existing.

Cassian — The Heart

I didn’t meet Sophie in a boardroom or studio.

I met her in real life.

Door slipping.

Files fumbling.

Coffee lukewarm and tragic.

Human.

That’s the version of her I fell into.

Not the composed analyst.

Not the cautious strategist.

Not the woman who tries to keep her voice small.

The Sophie who is bad at balancing things.

Who apologizes when she doesn’t need to.

Whose laugh breaks out suddenly in soft bursts.

Who looks like she’s trying so hard not to inconvenience anyone that she accidentally inconveniences herself.

When she said she was “a mess,” I felt something tighten in my chest.

Because I recognized it.

The way someone looks when they’ve been hurt by people who should have protected them.

She doesn’t know it, but I noticed the pause — the tiny moment — when I called her brilliant.

She almost laughed in disbelief.

Almost denied it.

But didn’t.

That’s progress.

I don’t want her ideas.

I don’t want her skills.

I don’t want her capability.

I want her.

Messy.

Real.

Unpredictably alive.

Later That Night — The Brothers Together

We rarely gather like this — just the three of us — without business on the table.

But tonight, we did.

On the balcony of the penthouse.

Whiskey for Adrian.

Red wine for me — Cassian.

Lucian didn’t drink — he paced.

He always paces.

Adrian spoke first.

“She’s stronger than she realizes.”

Lucian stopped pacing.

Cassian leaned forward.

I — Adrian — continued:

“She’s recovering from something. She carries it in her stance, her gaze. She is rebuilding.”

Lucian scoffed.

“She’s holding back. Playing small. She needs to be pushed. She’s capable of more than she allows herself.”

Cassian frowned.

“She needs gentleness, not pressure.”

Lucian shot back:

“Pressure forms diamonds.”

Cassian answered softly:

“And safety builds trust.”

They bickered — not angrily — but truthfully.

And I — Adrian — let them.

Because they were both right.

Sophie needed both hardness and softness.

Challenge and comfort.

Fire and shelter.

And perhaps that was the real problem.

The real reason she already mattered.

Because she wasn’t just a woman.

She was a catalyst.

All Three of Us

We each saw a different Sophie.

Adrian saw the rebuilder.

Lucian saw the ignited.

Cassian saw the vulnerable.

And none of us intended to pursue her.

Not at first.

But intentions are fragile things.

And hearts — even the most guarded ones — are unreliable narrators.

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