Avernon City doesn't wait for anyone to get ready.
The morning after the gala, the business news mentioned Alaric Devano's name more than usual. I caught it on the television screen in the dining room. His face calm, a thin smile, headlines buzzing about expansions and new alliances. Not one of them touched on what had truly shifted the night before.
Behind that dining table, Evelyn sat too still.
"You're not having breakfast?" she asked without turning.
"I'm not hungry," I replied.
It was a lie. But there was a hunger no food could touch.
Alaric walked in right after. Dark suit. Expensive watch. An aura of control that didn't crack for a second. He greeted Evelyn with a brief kiss on the cheek—a ritual that felt hollow. Then, almost unconsciously, his gaze sought me out. Found me. Held a beat longer than safe.
Enough.
"I'll be home late," he told her. "Follow-up meetings."
Evelyn nodded. "I've got lunch with a sponsor."
The word sponsor landed like an excuse. Or a distraction.
When the front door clicked shut, silence dropped again. The house had gotten better at hiding tension—like a building learning to hold its own cracks.
~~~
That afternoon, a text came from an unknown number.
> We need to talk. Alone.
No name. No direct threat. But I knew who sent it. The man from the café. The one who'd called me the weak spot.
I didn't reply.
Five minutes later, another message.
> Alaric won't always be able to watch.
My hands went cold.
I stood, walked to the window. From the mansion's upper floor, the city looked distant and cold—like something that could swallow anyone whole, without a trace.
I typed one sentence.
> What do you want?
The reply came fast.
> The truth. And a fair price.
I powered off the screen. Right then, footsteps sounded behind me.
Alaric.
He didn't ask why I was there. Didn't ask what I'd seen. His eyes went straight to my face—searching for the tiny shifts only he would notice.
"Someone contacted you," he said.
Not a question.
"Yes."
"Who?"
"Someone who wants to pressure you through me."
His jaw tightened. He stepped closer, then stopped. That distance—always that distance—now felt deliberate.
"You're not meeting him," he said.
"I didn't say I was."
"You're not replying to his messages anymore either."
It wasn't a barked order. That was what made it dangerous.
"You can't control every move I make," I said.
"I'm not controlling," he replied, low. "I'm anticipating."
He lifted his hand, then dropped it—like he'd remembered something. "Starting today, you're coming to the office with me."
I went still. "What?"
"Devano Corporation," he went on. "You'll be seen. Out in the open. Untouchable."
"And the gossip?"
"Let it fly," he said curtly. "Gossip's safer than uncertainty."
I laughed softly, without humor. "You're turning me into a shield."
His gaze locked on mine. "I'm making you the center of gravity. The world will orbit you on its own."
The words tightened my chest. Not from romance. From the sound of a plan.
~~~
Devano Corporation's headquarters was a glass tower that never felt welcoming. But that day, every step I took felt like a statement. People turned. Whispered. Took notes.
Alaric walked beside me—not touching, not holding my arm. But his position said everything. Too close for coincidence.
In the executive elevator, the doors slid shut with a soft hiss. Just the two of us.
"You're doing this on purpose," I said.
"Yes."
"You're making them think—"
"Whatever they think," he cut in, "will be more contained than what they'd plot in the dark."
The elevator stopped. Doors opened. The world rushed back in.
In the boardroom, an investor stared at me too long. "I didn't know Devano Corporation was... more open these days."
Alaric gave a thin smile. "We're adapting."
His hand moved—not touching me, but close enough to signal. I stood steady. Smiled politely. Played a role I'd never rehearsed.
And that's when I realized it.
I wasn't just being hidden anymore. I was being displayed—very deliberately.
~~~
Dusk bled into evening. In the car, rain started falling again—like this city never ran out of warnings.
"You're angry," Alaric said.
"I realize," I replied, "that you're not protecting me from the world."
He glanced over.
"You're protecting the world from me," I went on. "Because I'm your only crack."
The car stopped at a red light. Red glow bounced off his face, darkening his eyes.
"If that's true," he said quietly, "I won't close that crack."
I swallowed. "You know what that means?"
"Yes." His breathing stayed even. Too disciplined. "It means we've passed the point of safe."
The light turned green. The car surged forward.
I stared at the wet streets, the city moving on without a care. For the first time since arriving in Avernon City, I stopped wondering how this would end.
One thing I knew. Alaric Devano wasn't avoiding ruin anymore. He was orchestrating it. And I stood right at its heart.
~~~
That night, the mansion felt tighter than usual.
I knew Alaric was home before I saw his car in the driveway. The rhythm shifted—in the air, the walls, my breath. Like something sliding back into place... but with a different intent.
I was in the kitchen when he walked in. Jacket off, shirt still crisp, but his eyes weren't. That gaze didn't search. It locked.
"You didn't answer my text," he said.
"I'm home."
"That's not an answer."
I turned slowly. "What did you want me to say?"
He closed in. Not rushed. Not aggressive. His steps calm, measured—like a man who knew I wouldn't back away.
"I want you to understand," he said low, "that from now on, anything involving you... involves me."
"I never agreed to that."
He stopped right in front of me. Our distance nearly gone. I could smell the rain still clinging to his clothes.
"You agreed," he said softly, "when you chose not to leave."
The words hit harder than any shout.
"I can't just walk away," I shot back. "This is my sister's house."
"This is my territory," he replied without hesitation.
Silence stretched taut. This wasn't a conversation between two people wanting each other. It was two people testing who would break first.
"Someone's targeting you," he went on. "Not just to scare."
I straightened my shoulders. "So what's your plan?"
He took my hand—his movement calm, grip firm. Not painful. Not gentle. Precise.
"You stay visible," he said. "But only in places I control."
"That sounds like a gilded cage."
"No." He leaned in, voice dropping. "That sounds like unspoken ownership."
My chest tightened. "You have no right—"
"I know." His thumb pressed lightly against my wrist. "That's why I'm not asking permission."
We were too close now. Too aware. I felt the heat of his body, controlled but real—like something barely leashed.
"If you keep this up," I said, "you'll make Evelyn see."
His gaze hardened. Didn't pull back.
"Evelyn sees what she wants to see," he said. "And I keep the rest blurred."
"You're talking like I'm part of your strategy."
He dipped his head, lips near my ear—not touching, but close enough to steal my breath.
"You're not part of the strategy," he whispered. "You're my weakness."
Those words should have pushed me away. Instead, something shifted in my chest. Something dangerous because it felt... chosen.
He released my hand slowly. "Tomorrow night, there's a private dinner. Old investors. No media."
I looked at him. "And me?"
"You're coming."
"As what?"
His eyes dropped to my face, then lifted—sharp, focused. "As someone no one touches."
The words clung to my skin like heat traces.
~~~
The next night, the elite hotel felt like a stage set just for us. Dim lights. Low music. People with smiles layered in agendas.
I walked at Alaric's side again. No pretense this time. The way he stood. The way he paused when I did. The way his hand hovered too near my back—not touching, but unmistakably there.
A man approached. "Mr. Devano, it's been too long."
Alaric gave a brief nod. The man turned to me. "And this is...?"
Alaric answered without looking. "Someone with me."
It wasn't an introduction. It was a line in the sand.
I felt the other stares. Measuring. Connecting dots. Gossip sparked amid crystal glasses and forced laughs.
In the corner of the room, I saw him again.
The man from the café.
He stood casual, like it was chance. That thin smile the same.
Alaric clocked him in a second. His body tensed—subtle, but real.
"You know him?" I whispered.
"I know threats," he replied.
The man raised his glass slightly—a toast. A warning.
Alaric didn't return it. Instead, he shifted closer to me—closer than before. His hand finally settled on my waist, light but firm.
Not for show. For me.
"From now on," he murmured in my ear, "you don't move without me."
"And if I refuse?"
He smiled faintly. Dark. Steady.
"Then I'll make sure the world refuses your choice first."
Our breaths collided. In a room full of people, I felt a chill crawl my skin.
This wasn't hiding anymore. This was claiming.
And Alaric Devano had just declared it—wordless, without crude touch, but clear enough for anyone watching to understand. Including me. And maybe—even Evelyn, standing across the room, staring with an expression that wasn't innocent anymore.
~~~
That night didn't end at the hotel.
Alaric pulled me out before the dinner wrapped. No explanation. No drawn-out goodbyes. His hand curved against my back through the lobby—not lingering, but enough for anyone watching to get the message. I wasn't alone.
In the car, the door shut with a thud too sharp for accident.
"You saw him," he said without turning.
"The man... yeah."
Alaric started the engine, then paused. Hands on the wheel, jaw set. "He's not a guest. He's a message."
"For you?"
"For us."
The word hung heavy between us—not romantic, not soft. Loaded.
"What does he want?" I asked.
Alaric finally looked over. Eyes sharp, dark, fully alert. "He wants me to know my secret... isn't mine alone anymore."
My chest constricted. "About me?"
"About what happens if you stay by my side."
The car rolled forward. Avernon City's lights gleamed outside—cold, beautiful, utterly indifferent to anyone's choices.
"You should push me away," I said quietly. "If I'm really your weak spot—"
"You're not a weak spot," he cut in. "You're pressure point."
I snapped a look at him. "That's not better."
"No," he agreed, honest. "But it's real."
We pulled up to the mansion in silence. Most lights off. Evelyn not back.
The door shut behind us, and Alaric stopped walking. He stood right in front of me—too close for safety, but lit enough to read his face plain.
"You can't move alone anymore," he said.
"I'm not property."
He leaned in a fraction, voice lowering. "No. But you're the risk I chose to carry."
The words weren't sweet. That made them dangerous.
"What's your plan?" I asked.
"Tomorrow," he said, "you're moving rooms."
I froze. "What?"
"East wing. Closer to my office. Farther from Evelyn."
"Alaric—"
"This isn't a request."
I let out a short, dry laugh. "You say you're protecting me. But this... this is control."
His gaze didn't waver. "Protection always looks like control to someone who's never truly been threatened."
He closed half a step. "I won't let anyone touch you. Use you. Or turn you into leverage."
"Including you?" I shot back.
Silence fell. For the first time that night, he looked hesitant—not from uncertainty, but because the truth wasn't pretty.
"I'm not neutral," he said finally. "I won't pretend to be."
I held his stare. Something had shifted. Not just between us—but in how I saw him. This wasn't a man trapped by feelings. This was a man shaping the battlefield.
And I was right in the middle.
~~~
The next morning, Evelyn came home earlier than usual.
She stood in the dining room doorway, eyeing the small suitcase by the stairs.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
I drew a breath. "Moving rooms."
"Why?"
Before I could answer, Alaric walked in. Calm. Controlled. Too quick.
"For security," he said.
Evelyn turned to him slowly. "Security from what?"
"From this city."
She gave a small smile, but I saw it—the tension in her jaw. "Since when do you make decisions about Anna without talking to me?"
"Since the risks stopped being theoretical," Alaric replied flatly.
The silence weighed heavy. No shouting. No drama. That made it fracture.
"What really happened?" Evelyn asked, voice softer now.
I opened my mouth—then closed it. No answer wouldn't hurt someone.
"Nothing," I said finally. "Just... changes."
She stared at me too long. Like she was searching for what I'd lost in my face.
"Fine," she said at last. "If it makes you feel safe."
She walked away, steps measured. But I knew—something between us had shifted. And it wouldn't slide back.
That night, I stood in the new room. Bigger. Quieter. Windows facing the city.
A single knock.
Alaric walked in without waiting. He lingered in the doorway a moment, scanning the space. Then me.
"You're angry," he said.
"I know," I replied.
He approached, stopping right in front of me. Not touching. No need.
"You're on the front line now," he said. "And I won't pull you back."
"Why?"
His eyes dropped to mine. Unblinking. Unsoft.
"Because the world has seen you stand at my side."
Our breaths mingled. My pulse raced—not just desire, but realization.
"And if I want to leave?" I asked softly.
He dipped his head, lips brushing near my temple. "Then I'll make sure you leave protected."
"And if I want to stay?"
He smiled faintly. Dark. Certain.
"Then you'll become something no one touches without permission."
I closed my eyes for a beat. Behind my lids, one truth stood clear: this wasn't a forbidden thing growing in secret anymore.
This was a dangerous alliance.
And Avernon City always exacted a price from alliances like that—not now, but soon.