The library smelled of smoke and leather, a den carved for kings who thought themselves untouchable. The storm outside had calmed, but tension inside the mansion burned hotter than fire.
Kai sat in the armchair, arms crossed, expression sharp enough to cut glass. Across from him, Lucias leaned lazily against the desk, cigarette balanced between his fingers.
Neither spoke for a long moment. The silence wasn't awkward. It was war.
Finally, Lucias broke it. "You're too good to be wasted as someone else's weapon."
Kai's brow arched. "And here I thought you'd gloat about how I saved your ass earlier."
Lucias's lips curled, the faintest smirk. "I don't waste gratitude on inevitabilities. You're sharp enough to know you'd never have made it out without me either."
Kai's jaw ticked. He hated how true that was.
Lucias pushed off the desk and closed the space between them. His steps were deliberate, slow, each one a strike meant to corner. "I want you to work for me."
Kai laughed, sharp and humorless. "Not interested."
"Not asking." Lucias's tone was smooth, dangerous. "I've seen how your mind works. The speed. The precision. You'd be wasted anywhere else."
Kai shot to his feet, eyes blazing. "And you think I'd sell myself to a mafia king just because you like the way I solve your broken circuits?"
Lucias didn't flinch. He leaned in, lowering his voice to a blade's edge. "I think you're already halfway there. You stayed when you could have run. You fixed my defenses without me putting a gun to your head. Don't tell me you don't feel the pull, Kai. Because I see it. I see you."
Kai's pulse spiked, but his mask held. Barely. "You don't know a damn thing about me."
Lucias's smirk deepened. "I know enough. I know you like control. I know you hate being owned. And I know you want someone who can push you to the edge without letting you fall."
Kai's breath hitched, and he cursed himself for it.
Lucias leaned closer, their faces only inches apart now. Smoke curled between them, warm against the chill that Kai carried.
"Work with me," Lucias whispered, "and I'll give you the one thing no one else can."
Kai swallowed hard, voice sharper than he felt. "And what's that?"
Lucias's eyes burned, storm-grey and unyielding. "Freedom."
The word punched through Kai's chest. Freedom wasn't something offered in his world. Freedom was stolen, clawed, burned for.
And yet here it was, dangled like bait.
Kai forced a scoff, though his throat was dry. "You're full of shit."
Lucias smiled like a man who'd already won. "Maybe. But you're still listening."
---
Downstairs, Jas sat in the kitchen with a cup of untouched tea. Their hands curled around the mug for warmth that never reached their bones.
Mark entered, silent as always, but Jas felt him before they saw him. His presence filled a room the way storms filled skies.
"You should be resting," Mark said, his voice low but firm.
"So should you," Jas replied without looking up.
Mark didn't argue. He took the seat across from them, arms folded, gaze heavy.
For a long moment, the only sound was the faint drip of rain outside.
Finally, Jas spoke, their voice trembling despite their effort to steady it. "That room… it belonged to someone important, didn't it?"
Mark's jaw tightened. His silence was answer enough.
Jas hesitated, then added softly, "Someone you couldn't save."
Mark's eyes snapped to theirs, sharp and dangerous, but beneath the threat lay something raw. Something fragile.
"Stop digging," he warned, but the edge in his voice cracked.
Jas shook their head. "I'm not digging. I just… I don't want you to carry it alone."
Mark stared, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. Then he leaned forward, hands flat against the table. His voice was low, almost a growl.
"You don't understand, Jas. People like me—we don't get happy endings. We don't get to keep what we love. We bury it. And we move on. Or we die."
Jas's heart twisted, but their voice stayed soft, steady. "Maybe that's why you haven't moved on. Because you never really buried it."
The words landed like a blow. Mark's fists clenched, but his gaze wavered, torn between fury and something far more dangerous—hope.
Jas reached across the table, fingers brushing his. "I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to let me stand beside you. Even if it's messy. Even if it's bloody. Let me in."
Mark's breath caught. No one had ever asked that of him. No one had dared.
For the first time in years, he didn't know how to fight.
---
Back in the library, Kai shoved past Lucias, needing distance, air, anything but the burn of those storm-grey eyes.
But Lucias didn't stop him. He only watched, cigarette glowing faintly in the dark.
"You'll come around," Lucias murmured, almost to himself. "Because fire always devours ice. And when it does… neither survives unchanged."
Kai paused at the door, his back rigid, his heart thundering. He didn't turn around. Couldn't.
But Lucias's words followed him out, wrapping around him like chains disguised as promises.
And deep down, beneath the armor he swore he'd never shed, a terrifying thought took root.
What if he's right?