CHAPTER 8

Kael’s office was quiet, the kind of quiet that makes every little sound stand out. The blinds were half-closed, casting lines across the floor. I sat back in my chair, letting my hands rest on the desk. Aaron hadn’t returned yet, and I was trying to ignore the feeling gnawing at me.

He would come back soon. He always did. But I noticed something before he even stepped inside. Something off. A hesitation, a tension in the way he moved, the way he looked around. Aaron was normally easy, confident, playful even—but today he wasn’t. Today, he was uneasy.

When he finally entered, closing the door softly behind him, I let my face remain calm, though my mind was sharp.

“Kael,” he said, voice slightly strained, “I—” He stopped. Words caught somewhere between his teeth.

I leaned back, eyes on him, silent. Buongiorno, amico. I didn’t say it out loud, just in my head. My patience wasn’t endless, but I could wait. He would tell me when he was ready.

He shifted, avoiding eye contact. Normally, he’d be grinning, teasing me, making some unnecessary comment. Not today. He placed his bag on the floor and leaned against the desk, trying to look casual. Qualcosa non va, I thought. Something’s not right.

I watched him, pretending to sort papers. But every so often, I glanced up, catching him glance at the floor, fidget with his hands, bite his lip. That was Aaron’s tell. He hated lying, hated hiding, yet he was trying.

“Everything okay?” I asked finally, voice even. I didn’t move my hands. Didn’t need to. He knew I already knew.

Aaron swallowed, nodded quickly, then shook his head. “Yeah… yeah, fine,” he said too fast.

I sighed inwardly. Capisci, Aaron? I know. I know you’re trying. I know you want to protect, to shield me from whatever it is—but you can’t. You never could.

He shifted again, rubbing the back of his neck. That little gesture—the one he always did when he was nervous around me—gave him away. I let a slow breath out, leaning forward. “Aaron,” I said calmly, “you can’t hide anything from me. Not when it matters.”

He froze. His eyes flicked up, meeting mine briefly before darting away again.

“I… I just…” he began, then stopped, searching for words.

I waved a hand, gesturing for him to continue, though I already knew the answer. Whatever it was, he was holding back. Respectfully, he was protecting someone. Possibly her. Possibly… Vera.

My jaw tightened slightly. Normal Kael would be angry—furious, even—that Aaron was hiding something important. But I wasn’t just anyone. He’s my best friend, not my subordinate. So the anger stayed under control, folded into observation. I could wait.

The day stretched on. I watched Aaron move through the office, quietly, unusually. He avoided my eyes, stayed a step back, shifted every time I entered the room. That hesitation, that careful silence, told me everything.

By evening, the tension was almost unbearable. I didn’t need words. I knew. Aaron had seen something. He hadn’t lied, not exactly, but he had tried to smooth over details. Tried to protect me. And he had failed.

I let a slow, quiet chuckle escape me. Finalmente, I thought. Finally, I know. He can’t hide it. Not from me.

Aaron shifted again, eyes finally meeting mine, a mixture of guilt and worry there. I leaned back in my chair, calm, controlled, letting the weight of the office settle around us. “Aaron,” I said, softly, “you know you can tell me anything.”

He nodded, and that small motion—just that—was enough. For now.