CHAPTER 10 - A Secret Between Us 

Tristan’s easy smile softened, turning into a quieter, more grounded expression. 

He swirled the remaining coffee in his mug, staring down at the dark liquid for a brief second before looking back up at her.

"I spent six years in special operations, Felicity," Tristan said softly, his voice dropping into that calm, commanding register he used when things got serious. "About eight months ago, before I officially stepped down, high-level intelligence started circulating quiet reports across global defense networks.”

“A strange, aggressive neurological pathogen had popped up in isolated underground facilities overseas. The higher-ups called it a 'hypothetical threat,' but the bio-warfare protocols they were drafting suggested otherwise. It was a dark theory, but a very real one."

Felicity listened closely, her mind piecing together the timeline.

"I built the van months ago as a contingency," Tristan continued, a low, smooth chuckle escaping his throat as he gestured toward her. "I kept my eyes on the underground channels, but honestly, I wasn't entirely sure when or if the virus would actually breach containment. That is, until I saw you."

Felicity raised an eyebrow. 

"Me?"

"You," Tristan repeated, his gaze growing dark and delightfully intense. "A week ago, you suddenly started using every corporate loophole in the book to drain multi-million-dollar wholesale supply chains dry. You put your luxury apartment up for quick cash, bought up emergency fuel, and cleared out pharmaceutical depots. The moment I saw you moving like a seasoned survival tactician, I knew the theory was no longer just a theory."

He leaned across the small folding table, resting his chin on his hand as a slow, wickedly handsome smirk spread across his face.

"So, I trusted your instincts. I took my savings, prepped my van, bought out those south-side food hubs, and followed my favorite procurement manager right out of the city. And as those live news feeds just confirmed... you and my military intel were spot on."

Felicity stared at him, genuinely impressed despite herself. 

She had assumed he was just acting on a hunch or sheer luck, but his sharp mind and absolute trust in her movements had saved him from the city's death trap.

"So you used me as your alarm clock," Felicity said, her lips twitching with the faint trace of an amused smile.

"I prefer the term 'strategic synchronization,'" Tristan purred, picking up his mug and tapping it gently against hers. "And I'd say we make a pretty incredible team."

Tristan took a quiet sip from his mug, his eyes lingering on her face. 

The smirk on his lips slowly faded into a sharp, searching expression. 

He leaned forward slightly, setting his mug down on the folding table.

Click. 

"Now that I've shared my story," Tristan said, his deep voice carrying a quiet weight, "it's your turn. I had military intelligence and high-level defense reports. What was your excuse, Felicity?"

Felicity’s shoulder flinched ever so slightly, a subtle twitch that didn't escape Tristan’s sharp eyes. 

Her pulse gave a sudden jump against her ribs.

She couldn't exactly tell him that she had bled out on a cold concrete floor in a past life after being sold out by her twin sister and ex-boyfriend. 

She couldn't explain that she was a reborn soul carrying a magical pocket dimension bound to her bloodline.

Felicity quickly recovered her composure, taking a slow sip of her coffee to hide her face behind the rim of the mug.

"It's a secret," she said smoothly, setting the mug down and offering him an unreadable, icy smile.

Tristan raised a single dark eyebrow, studying her face for two tense, thrilling seconds. 

Instead of pressing her, a low, quiet laugh escaped his throat. 

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with intense curiosity and deep amusement.

"A secret," he repeated, his tone rich with intrigue. "Fair enough, Procurement Manager. Keep your mysteries. It just makes you that much more interesting."

They finished their coffee in comfortable silence, taking in the quiet rustle of the surrounding pine trees while distant sirens wailed miles away in the city.

When her mug was empty, Felicity stood up, smoothing down her tactical hoodie. 

"I'm calling it a night. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

Tristan looked up at her, offering a warm, genuine smile. 

"Rest well, Felicity. My van's defense systems are active, so sleep easy. I'll be right here."

Felicity gave him a small wave goodbye, turning on her heel and heading back toward her vehicle. 

She climbed inside, pulled the heavy sliding door shut, and locked every latch into place.

Once inside her safe, cozy sanctuary, she walked over to her built-in bed and climbed up onto the clean sheets. 

She picked up her tablet from the nightstand, powered on the screen, and opened the global emergency news broadcasts.

The display lit up her face in the dark room, showing horrifying, chaotic scenes playing out across major metropolitan hubs. 

Giant crowds of screaming people were being pulled down in the middle of gridlocked highways. 

High-rise apartment complexes were burning, emergency sirens blared incessantly, and bloody figures moved with unnatural, violent speed through the streets, tearing into anyone within reach. 

The world was tearing itself apart at the seams.

Felicity stared at the chaotic footage, her expression calm, cold, and entirely unbothered.

It was an exact, tragic mirror of her past life. 

The panic, the collapse, the utter ruin of human civilization- everything was unfolding precisely as she remembered.

She tapped the screen, turning off the tablet and plunging the van into peaceful darkness.

Tucking herself under the warm blanket, Felicity closed her eyes.

She didn't care about the collapsing city, nor did she worry about the traitors trapped in their suburban house. 

She had an impenetrable fortress, an infinite domain packed with food, fresh water, and weapons, and a reliable ally parked right outside her door.

She was fine.

And this time, she was going to survive.