The clock in Marcus's study ticked carefully, as the rhythmic sound echoed against the oak-paneled walls. It was late—too late for visitors—but Nina had never been one to respect boundaries. She stood near the window, as the amber light from the desk lamp caught the sharp edges of her smile.
Marcus simply sat behind his desk, his sleeves rolled up, and a glass of whiskey untouched beside a stack of papers. His gaze was buried in reports, but his tone was brisk.
"Nina, this had better be important."
"Oh, it is," she purred, as her voice was threaded with false sweetness. "I wouldn't dare bother you unless it concerned something… critical."
Marcus didn't look up. "Then speak plainly."
Nina crossed her arms, feigning hesitation. "It's about her—Alexa."
That made him look up. His eyes narrowed. "What about her?"
Nina tilted her head, savoring his sudden attention. "You've noticed she's been… different lately, haven't you? Always disappearing at odd hours, slipping away like a shadow."
Marcus frowned, leaning back in his chair. "You're implying something. I suggest you get to the point."
Her lips curved into a knowing smirk. "I don't need to imply anything, Marcus. I'm telling you. Alexa's been sneaking out of the mansion. More than once."
His fingers stilled against the desk. "Sneaking out?" His tone was low, skeptical. "You expect me to believe that?"
"Believe what you want," Nina said smoothly, walking closer. "But I saw her myself. Not just once. I thought perhaps she had errands, but then I started noticing the pattern. Always late at night. Always when you were… preoccupied."
Marcus's jaw tightened. "You've been spying on her."
"Spying?" she echoed innocently. "No. Protecting this family, Marcus. Someone has to, especially when strangers start slinking around as if they own the place."
He stared at her, a muscle ticking in his cheek. For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to dismiss her entirely. But Nina knew how to push—always had.
"If you think I'm lying," she said lightly, "why not check the security feeds yourself?"
The room fell into silence. Marcus's hand hovered over the desk before finally reaching for the remote. With a quiet click, the monitors along the wall blinked to life, one by one showing silent footage from the mansion's cameras.
The seconds stretched into minutes. He scrolled through the timestamps, his eyes sharp and calculating.
And then—there it was.
A lone figure, cloaked in black, slipping through the east gate past midnight.
Marcus's breath stilled. He zoomed in. The grainy footage flickered—but there was no mistaking that silhouette, that posture. Alexa.
He didn't say a word. He just stared.
Nina moved closer, her perfume lacing the air like venom. "You see? I told you."
Marcus's voice came out quieter than before, but edged with ice. "When was this?"
"Three nights ago," she said smoothly. "And two nights before that as well."
He switched to earlier dates, his hand trembling just slightly. Another clip—Alexa leaving again, this time from the back entrance. And again.
And again.
Every time, the same hour. The same pattern.
The same deception.
When he stopped, his reflection on the darkened monitor looked like a ghost—haunted, furious, and wounded all at once.
Nina watched him with satisfaction hidden behind concern. "Marcus… I didn't want to believe it either. But you see now, don't you? She's not what she seems. She's been lying to you, sneaking around like some—"
"Enough."
The word cut through the air, sharp and final. Nina flinched slightly but pressed her advantage. "You're defending her even now? After seeing that? Marcus, what if she's working against you? What if she's here for something far worse than you imagined?"
Marcus stood abruptly, his chair scraping back against the floor. His face was unreadable—tension carved deep into his jaw. "You've made your point."
She stepped forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Ask yourself one thing. If she truly cared about you, about Aaron… why all the secrets?"
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Marcus turned away, staring at the frozen image of Alexa on the monitor. She was mid-step, half in shadow, half in moonlight. The perfect metaphor for how she'd invaded his life—beautiful and dangerous, warm and unknowable.
He spoke at last, his voice low. "Leave, Nina."
Nina hesitated, but the steel in his tone made her obey. Still, she couldn't resist the final twist of the knife.
"Just think about it, Marcus," she murmured, her heels clicking softly against the marble as she exited. "What if she's not here for Aaron at all?"
The door shut behind her, and silence reclaimed the room.
Marcus stood there, staring at the monitor long after it dimmed to black. His reflection glared back at him—a man who once prided himself on control, now uncertain, angry, and betrayed.
He sank slowly into his chair, his mind a whirlpool of disbelief and suspicion.
"Alexa," he muttered under his breath, the name tasting foreign now. "What are you hiding from me?"
Scene 2
The morning sun spilled gently through the tall glass panes, painting warm streaks across the marble floor of Aaron's playroom. Wooden blocks, toy soldiers, and sheets of blueprint paper were scattered everywhere—an adorable chaos that only a six-year-old strategist could create.
Aaron knelt in the middle of it all, brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully balanced a miniature turret atop his growing fortress. His tongue peeked out between his lips in focus, and Alexa, sitting cross-legged beside him, couldn't help but smile.
"You know," she said, her tone teasing but soft, "I think you're planning this fortress like a real general. Are you secretly preparing for war, young master?"
Aaron shot her a mock glare—the kind that was more adorable than intimidating. "It's not just a fortress," he declared, his voice full of importance. "It's Fort Aaron. No bad guys can get in. Not even… sneaky ones."
Alexa laughed lightly, watching as he adjusted the walls again, making sure each piece interlocked perfectly. "Fort Aaron, huh? Sounds like a place even I'd have trouble infiltrating."
"You?" he said proudly, grinning. "No way. You'd have to solve all my secret traps first."
Alexa chuckled, but something about his determination—the way his little fingers traced invisible blueprints, the serious set of his jaw—sent her heart spiraling backward in time.
Just like me…
When she was his age, she used to build too—with blocks, very expensive ones her father would buy each time he travelled abroad. Every fortress she made back then had been her way of feeling safe, of pretending she could build walls strong enough to keep the fear out… and the hurt in.
And now, here was Aaron—mirroring her unknowingly, piece by piece, as if he carried fragments of her past she'd long tried to bury.
"Why are you staring?" Aaron asked suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts.
Alexa blinked and forced a smile. "You just reminded me of someone."
"Who?" he asked, tilting his head.
She hesitated for a moment, then reached out and gently tapped the tiny castle wall. "Someone who used to think walls could protect everything important. But…" she trailed off, her voice softening, "…sometimes walls just keep people out."
Aaron looked up at her, frowning a little, not quite understanding but sensing the weight behind her words. "Then what do we build instead?"
She smiled sadly. "Maybe doors. Maybe windows. So the people we trust can come in."
He seemed to consider that, then nodded solemnly—like he'd just been told some great secret of the universe. "Then Fort Aaron needs doors too."
Alexa chuckled, warmth threading through the ache in her chest. "That's the smartest thing you've said all morning, little general."
As they worked together—her steady hands guiding his smaller ones—she noticed how he mimicked her every move. The careful way he lined up each block, how he paused before making decisions, how he bit his lip in concentration.
Every small action, every habit… it was like watching a reflection of a childhood she never got to finish.
Aaron finally sat back, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "There! Fort Aaron is finished."
Alexa leaned forward to inspect it. "You know, I think you just built something pretty strong."
"Strong enough to protect everyone?"
Her voice caught slightly, but she nodded. "Yes, Aaron. Strong enough for that."
He grinned and started arranging his toy guards along the walls. "You'll stay inside the fortress with me, right?"
She smiled, ruffling his hair. "Always."
The simplicity of his trust hit her harder than she expected. For all the lies and shadows around her, for all the roles she played in the dark—here, with Aaron, she was just Alexa. No code names, no missions, no masks.
Just… her.
She reached out and adjusted one last block—a small watchtower—and whispered, almost to herself, "I'll make sure nothing breaks your walls, Aaron. Not while I'm here."
He didn't notice the flicker of sadness behind her smile. But the sunlight caught it for a brief moment, soft and fleeting, before it disappeared entirely.