Chapter seventeen
Morning spilled into Amara's apartment in warm sheets of light, softening the edges of the little space that was hers. The fairy lights by the mirror still glowed faintly, though the sun was already winning, brushing across rugs and fabric swatches scattered on the side table.
Kairen stood in front of her mirror, tugging nervously at the hem of the shirt she'd forced onto him. It was one of her latest designs—long, sleek, but cut at the waist to tease skin at the sides. Paired with fitted leather trousers and polished loafers, he looked nothing like the ghost who had collapsed on Maison's stairs yesterday. His braids were neat, his face bright again, the faint shadows under his eyes nearly gone. He hardly recognized himself.
"Amara!" he shouted toward the dining space. "Tell me this is appropriate for work. Please, tell me you're not trying to get me fired." He tugged the shirt again as if stretching it would somehow hide him more.
From the dining table, where she was lazily arranging breakfast plates, Amara didn't even look up. "Stop overreacting, Ren. You look like you're about to sign contracts."
Kairen stepped out of the room, still fussing. The moment Amara's eyes landed on him, she let out a theatrical gasp, clutching her chest. "Oh my God. Who is this man?!" She stood, circling him like a critic judging a masterpiece. "The shirt? The trousers? My God—Maison de la Croix is not ready. They'll need a warning before you walk through those doors."
Kairen rolled his eyes, trying and failing to suppress a smile. "Please. You're exaggerating. I look like I'm about to be kicked out."
Amara dropped back into her chair, smirking. "No, you look like you own the building. Honestly, you should thank me now. This outfit screams power."
Kairen sighed dramatically, pulled out the chair opposite her, and sat down with a face that said he was unimpressed, though the faint curve at the corner of his lips betrayed him.
The table between them smelled of fresh toast and Amara's favorite tea, sunlight cutting through the small apartment to drape them both in a quiet comfort. For a brief moment, Kairen forgot the suffocating corridors of Maison, forgot Sebastian's smirk, forgot the weight of exhaustion. Here, across from Amara, there was only warmth, safety, and the ease of being seen without having to endure.
The two ate in silence for a while, but Amara's eyes never left Kairen. He pretended not to notice, chewing slowly, dragging his fork across the plate like he was too busy to care. Still, he felt it—that stare boring into him. Finally, as if scripted by fate, the same word burst out of both their mouths at once.
"Bitch."
They blinked at each other, then fell into laughter, the kind that loosened knots in the chest.
Kairen dabbed his lips with a napkin and leaned back. "Girl, why you looking at me like that? Hm? You tryna hypnotize me?"
Amara's playful smirk softened. "You scared the hell outta me last night. I walk into that office, and you're half-dead at the desk like some tragic Victorian heroine. What happened, Ren?"
The fork slipped from his fingers. His eyes dropped to the table, lashes low, and for a moment his smile faltered. "Sebastian happened," he murmured. Then, with a bitter laugh, he added, "Man turned me into a staircase marathon runner. Coffee up, coffee down, over and over, like I was auditioning for death."
Amara's jaw tightened, her hand clenching around her glass. "That bastard. I should march into his big-ass office and"
"Whoa!" Kairen cut in dramatically, wagging a finger. "First you hand me this shirt, now you wanna hand me a pink slip? Are you trying to get me fired or are you just jealous?"
Amara burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Boy, please."
The tension broke again, their laughter echoing against the cozy walls. But when it died down, her eyes were soft, steady. "Ren, you need to see Dr. Haynes this weekend. Don't roll your eyes—I mean it. And call your mom and your sister. They worry."
Kairen sighed, lips twitching in surrender. "I did. Yesterday. Before I… passed out." His smile warmed. "Happy?"
"Ecstatic," she teased, stabbing another bite.
He leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief now. "Okay, enough therapy talk. You promised me tea, remember? Spill. What was this gist you were dying to tell me?"
Amara sat up straighter, grin tugging at her lips, ready to pour it all out when a sharp car horn blared from outside the apartment.
They froze. The sound cut through the cozy morning like a blade, tugging both their gazes toward the window.
"Now who the hell.." Amara muttered, pushing her chair back.
Kairen just stared, unease creeping back into his chest, the laughter gone as quickly as it had come.
Amara rose from her chair and padded toward the window when the sharp beep cut through their laughter. She tugged the curtain aside, frowning. A sleek car idled at the curb, its engine humming. A man stepped out—broad shoulders, neat shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, searching the street as though he'd taken a wrong turn. Amara squinted, then recognition sparked.
Her brows shot up. "Oh no, this is creepy." She spun around to face Kairen, pointing toward the window. "How in the hell did your co-worker find my house address?"
Kairen, still seated, exhaled with visible relief. "Relax. It's Julian." He pushed back from the table, straightening his shirt. "I texted him the address."
"Julian," Amara repeated, dragging out the syllables with mock suspicion. "So that's his name. Is he your new bestie now?"
Kairen's lips curved, a teasing smile tugging at him. "Don't get jealous, girl. You're stuck with me for life. Julian's just a friend I called to pick me up."
Amara crossed her arms, lips pressed into a pout that wasn't fooling anyone. "Mm-hm. Just a friend."
Kairen stood, circling around the table. He tapped her shoulder lightly, a gentle nudge. "You should rest a little, okay? I'll be fine. We can hang out tonight."
Amara softened, but not without rolling her eyes. "Fine. Don't let your new bestie steal you from me."
They leaned in, a quick peck on the cheek—her mock curse following right after. "Bitch."
He laughed, the sound bright, the kind that filled her little apartment with ease. "Love you too."
Outside, Julian was circling his car like he wasn't sure which door Kairen might appear from. His brows knit, scanning rooftops, windows, anything that might give him a clue.
The front door clicked open.
Kairen stepped out, adjusting his shirt with that effortless elegance Amara had dressed him in—the soft leather trousers hugging just right, braids neat and catching the morning light. He waved back at the window where Amara still lingered, before walking down the small steps toward Julian.
Julian turned...and froze.
It hit him like a wave. The sun caught the curve of Kairen's cheekbone, the neat fall of braids framing his face, the sharp contrast of dark shirt against glowing skin. For a moment, Julian's breath snagged in his throat. He wasn't prepared for this ,Kairen stepping out of a domestic space, looking like he belonged to another world entirely.
He stood stock-still, unable to mask the way his gaze lingered.
Kairen, oblivious, smiled as though it were just another morning. Amara, from the window, caught the look on Julian's face and smirked knowingly to herself.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," she muttered under her breath.
Kairen lifted a hand and waved it almost in Julian's face, his braid swinging as he leaned forward. "Earth to Julian," he teased, laughter soft on his lips. "Were you daydreaming?"
Julian blinked hard, throat working as if he'd just been caught red-handed. Heat crept up his neck, but he smothered it quickly with a short cough. "Sorry. Just… spaced out." His voice was clipped, almost too formal, as if discipline could disguise what really had him distracted.
Kairen chuckled, lighthearted, unaware of the effect he carried like a second skin. "Don't apologize. I didn't know my face was that interesting."
Julian muttered something under his breath and moved swiftly, opening the car door for him. The reflex was gentlemanly, almost protective, though his hand lingered a second too long on the handle before he let go.
Sliding into the seat, Kairen offered an easy smile. "Thanks."
Julian closed the door, circled, and climbed in beside him. For a moment, the confined air of the car felt heavier, filled with things unsaid. He kept his gaze on the steering wheel as if it alone demanded all his attention.
"Did you… sleep well?" Julian asked, his tone careful, measured.
Kairen tilted his head. "Mm. Like a rock."
"And… you took something? Medicine, I mean. For the exhaustion."
"Amara shoved tea at me," Kairen said with a faint laugh. "But yeah, I'm good now."
"You don't feel weak anymore?" Julian pressed, stealing a quick glance before focusing back on the ignition.
Kairen shook his head, voice softer. "I'm fine, Julian. Really."
Something in the reassurance the warmth, the steadiness pulled a quiet breath out of Julian. He only nodded, turning the key. The engine roared to life, humming through the silence that followed.
The city slid past outside, but inside the car the world felt smaller, the space charged in a way neither acknowledged. Julian kept his eyes on the road, knuckles tight on the wheel. Kairen leaned back into the seat, arms crossed, gaze thoughtful yet relaxed.
The drive carried them forward, away from Amara's safe cocoon, toward the looming glass tower of Maison de la Croix. Its shadow already hovered in Kairen's mind.
"The devil's nest," he whispered to himself, lips curling in irony.
Julian heard him but said nothing. He only drove on, the silence between them deeper than words.