#knife #smile #dangerous #trust #defense
The grand dining hall had not been used in over a year.By late afternoon, servants were already swarming, polishing the cutlery, replacing the winter floral arrangements with something more dramatic—deep red calla lilies and bone-white roses arranged like something ceremonial. Tall candles were positioned between crystal wine glasses, their wicks waiting to be lit, and the chandeliers glittered overhead like a thousand watching eyes.Ayra had seen nothing like it before. The opulence wasn’t just for aesthetics—it was a power play. A performance. Every polished inch screamed: we still control the stage.And tonight, Lucian’s family was the audience.She’d prepared carefully. A gown of deep emerald green, sleeveless with a square neckline that made her shoulders look more regal than fragile. Her hair was twisted up at the back, a few strands left artfully loose. No necklace—she didn’t need one. The knife strapped at her thigh was enough of an accessory.Lucian hadn’t said much that day
The lamps had been dimmed. Shadows stretched like silk across the stone walls of the corridor, broken only by the pale flicker of firelight bleeding under Lucian’s study door.Ayra hesitated before knocking.She hadn’t planned to seek him out tonight. But sleep wouldn’t come. Not after everything—after Elias’s laughter echoing through the halls, after that moment on the rug when Lucian had smiled, not coolly or calculated, but like someone who forgot himself for a second.She pushed the door open gently.Lucian was slouched in the chair near the fire. Not his desk, not the leather-backed throne he used for meetings. The armchair. One leg stretched out, head tilted back slightly, a tumbler of amber liquor resting half-forgotten in one hand.He didn’t hear her at first.His coat lay discarded over the back of another chair. His tie hung loose around his collar. One hand pressed against the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut.Ayra leaned against the doorway.“You look like someone dropped
The estate was unusually quiet that morning. No calls. No terse meetings. No distant echo of raised voices from the west wing where the guards trained. Just the kind of gentle hush that felt stolen—like the world had briefly forgotten its demands.It was Elias who broke the silence.“I win!” he shouted gleefully, springing onto the rug like a tiny predator. “I said it first!”Ayra, still in her robe, raised a skeptical brow from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by puzzle pieces and a half-built Lego castle. “You said it before I even finished asking the question.”“That’s because I knew the answer,” Elias said matter-of-factly, puffing out his tiny chest. “You said, ‘What’s the fastest sea animal,’ and I said—”“The black marlin,” Ayra interrupted, grinning. “Yes, yes. You’re brilliant. The world should know.”Lucian stood at the threshold of the room, unnoticed for the moment, watching the scene play out.The sunlight filtered softly through the tall windows, castin
The corridor was quiet—far too quiet. The kind of stillness that made her footfalls feel loud even on the soft Persian rug. Shadows stretched long along the stone walls of the estate, the sconces dimmed for the night, their golden flickers dancing like candlelight caught in a dream.Ayra adjusted the robe around her shoulders. Elias had finally drifted to sleep after his latest nightmare—something about the rain and a collapsed tunnel, which he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain. She’d sat with him until his breathing softened, his lashes fluttering against pale cheeks. Suddenly she realized that she was really slipping into being a mum rather easily. Now, she walked the hall alone, drawn by something she couldn’t quite name.It was well past midnight. The kind of hour when the world felt thinner, like the veil between past and present could tear with a whisper.She turned the corner near the main sitting room—and stopped.Music.It drifted from the cracked door ahead, gentle and unexpected
She took Elias’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get some juice. You’re going to tell me everything you’ve been up to.”They spent the next hour in the sun-drenched breakfast nook. Elias chattered non-stop, his words tumbling over each other as he described his lessons, his new tutor, a cat that kept sneaking into the school grounds, and how he was learning a secret handshake with one of the guards.Ayra laughed more in that hour than she had in days.After breakfast, they went to the greenhouse. Elias marveled at the plants, his face lighting up when she told him the names of the flowers. When he pointed out the gardenias, Ayra’s smile softened.“That’s my favorite flower,” she told him.“Mine too,” Elias said with certainty, though she was fairly sure it wasn’t before.She knelt beside him and watched him press his nose gently to the petals. “Do you know what they mean?” she asked.He shook his head.“Secret love. Or sometimes, clarity.”He giggled. “That’s mushy.”Ayra smirked. “Maybe. But it
In the end, the storm came not from the sky, but from within.Ayra awoke suddenly, heart pounding, with no dream to blame. Moonlight streamed through the curtains of her new bedroom, soft and ghostlike, casting long shadows on the polished floor. The silence was oppressive—thick with the weight of something unspoken.Unable to sleep, she slid out of bed and slipped a shawl over her shoulders. The air was cold. The hallway was colder.She wandered barefoot through the quiet villa, moving past the art-filled halls and down the staircase until she found herself near Lucian’s study. The doors were mostly closed, but a sliver of light cut through the gap.Voices filtered out.She recognized one instantly.Lucian.The other was Nico—gruff, calculated, precise in tone.“We can now confirm that Miss Lisbeth vanished without a trace, and someone's actively erasing her tracks,” Nico was saying. “Same as Pedro. Same signature, same intel leakage. If we wait longer, they’ll erase all tracks. The s