Lottie's fingers brushed over the manila folder, its corners soft from handling, the weight of it somehow heavier than mere paper. She raised her gaze slowly to Adrian, standing at the edge of the lounge, shoulders taut beneath his tailored coat. His eyes were sharp, but beneath the steel, she caught the flicker of something—hurt, maybe, or the faint ghost of old loyalty unraveling.
"Take it," Lottie said quietly, her voice steady though her pulse thundered in her throat. "You'll want to see for yourself."
Adrian reached out, his fingers grazing hers for the briefest second as he took the folder. That touch—a spark of static, a memory of what they'd once been—sent a shiver up Lottie's spine. Her breath caught for the faintest moment, heart leaping against her ribs before she forced herself to exhale slowly, grounding in the cool leather armrest under her palm.
He opened the folder with careful precision, as though bracing for the blow. The rustle of paper filled the quiet room, mingling with the muted tick of the grandfather clock against the far wall. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow that couldn't quite thaw the tension hanging between them.
From the corner, Mason watched with arms crossed, his expression calm but eyes sharp. He shifted his weight slightly, the faint scuff of his shoe against the marble floor drawing Lottie's attention for a heartbeat. She offered him the barest tilt of her head before returning her focus to Adrian.
Adrian's gaze flicked across the first page—bank transfers, falsified reports, a damning series of emails. His jaw tensed, the muscle there ticking in a silent metronome of restraint. He turned the page, slower now, his fingers tightening just enough to leave a faint crease along the edge.
Outside, beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, Evelyn hovered near the terrace. The soft sweep of her gown stirred in the wind, the lanterns' glow painting her in gold and ivory. She watched them, her smile frozen in place, but her eyes—a sharp, desperate blue—never left the trio inside. Her arms were folded tightly, fingers gripping the opposite elbow as though to anchor herself, the faint tremble in her shoulders betraying the chill that had little to do with the night air.
"She's watching," Mason murmured, his voice low, pitched for Lottie's ears alone.
"I know," Lottie replied under her breath, fingers curling briefly at her side. A surge of conflicting emotions twisted in her chest—satisfaction at the unraveling façade, but threaded through with an ache she couldn't fully name. She felt the tension knotting in her chest, a bittersweet ache wrapped in the thrill of victory and the sting of old wounds.
Leo's latest message buzzed in her pocket: "Evelyn's circling. Amy's ready with backups." Lottie exhaled slowly, lifting her chin. "We stay the course."
Adrian closed the folder with a quiet, deliberate motion. His eyes lifted to Lottie's, and for a moment, neither spoke. The firelight threw shifting shadows across his face, highlighting the faint lines of exhaustion at his eyes, the storm still gathering behind them.
"I should have seen it sooner," Adrian said at last, voice low and raw. His fingers tapped once, twice, against the folder. "How did I not—"
"Because she's good at this," Lottie cut in softly, stepping closer. "She's been good at it for years." Her throat tightened around the words, the years of buried hurt sharpening each syllable. She hesitated, searching his face. "But you're here now."
His throat worked in a sharp swallow. "Yeah." His voice cracked faintly on the word, rough around the edges. "I'm here now."
Behind the glass, Evelyn shifted, her smile wavering for the barest instant. The tightness in her shoulders betrayed the strain under the polished surface, her hands clenching briefly at her sides before smoothing her gown with practiced grace. But her gaze remained fixed—hungry, wary—on the figures in the lounge.
Mason approached, his steps measured, a subtle nod in Adrian's direction. "Follow the paper trail," he murmured, voice like a blade sheathed in silk. "She's left cracks everywhere."
Adrian's lips pressed into a thin line. "And you're sure?" His gaze cut to Lottie, lingering a heartbeat too long. "You're sure this isn't just a family grudge?"
Lottie's jaw tightened, a flicker of hurt darting through her chest before she masked it beneath cool resolve. She took in a breath, sharp with the scent of old leather and faint smoke. "I wouldn't have dragged you into this if it were just about revenge," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need this cleaned up—for all of us."
A pause stretched between them, heavy and taut.
Finally, Adrian nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Okay."
From across the room, Amy appeared in the doorway, clutching a backup drive tight to her chest, cheeks flushed, breath uneven. Her knuckles were white where they gripped the edge, and her wide eyes darted anxiously between the three. "I've prepped the files," she said softly, her voice a quiver of determination laced with fear. "They're ready whenever you need them."
Lottie offered a small, steady smile. "Good." She caught the faint tremor in Amy's shoulders, the nervous energy vibrating off her, and for a moment, her gaze softened. "Stay close, Amy."
Outside, Evelyn turned abruptly, heels clicking sharply against the stone terrace as she disappeared into the night. The lanterns' glow flickered behind her, casting her retreating figure in flickering shadow. The sweep of her dress flared in a flash of ivory, and then she was gone—vanished into the darkness, leaving behind only the echo of her footsteps.
"Brace yourself," Mason murmured, eyes tracking Evelyn's exit, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his forearm. "She's going to come at you sideways."
Adrian huffed out a short laugh, weary and sharp-edged. "She always does." His hand swept through his hair, raking it back, tension rippling through his frame like a bowstring pulled tight.
He stepped closer to Lottie, voice low. "What's her next move?"
"She'll try to spin the narrative," Lottie murmured, her gaze distant, focused somewhere beyond the room. "Charm, panic, whatever gets her back in control." She drew in a slow breath, the rise and fall of her chest deliberate. "She doesn't know how to operate from the back foot."
Adrian's brow furrowed, tension bracketing his mouth, his fingers curling briefly at his sides. "And you?"
Lottie's eyes lifted to his, steady and unflinching. "I stay the course." Her voice was soft steel, threaded with quiet determination. "We hold the line."
A beat of silence, then Adrian's lips curved—not quite a smile, but the flicker of something familiar, something Lottie hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime. "I'm with you on this," he murmured, voice rough with something that felt like an apology and a promise all at once.
Lottie felt the breath catch in her chest, a flush of warmth prickling at the back of her throat. She nodded once, sharply. "Good."
Across the room, Mason exhaled quietly, the faintest smile ghosting across his features as he leaned against the mantle. The firelight danced in his eyes, glinting gold and shadow. His arms uncrossed, one hand sliding casually into his pocket as though to disguise the sharpness of his gaze.
Amy hovered at the edge of the room, fingers worrying the hem of her sleeve, eyes wide as they flicked between the three. "Do you think… she'll back off?" Her voice cracked slightly, the fragility beneath the question laid bare.
Lottie's smile sharpened. "No." She turned slightly, eyes narrowing as they swept toward the darkened terrace beyond the window. "But that's what we're counting on."
Adrian ran a hand through his hair again, this time with a ragged sigh that tugged at the tension braced in his shoulders. "Hell of a family reunion."
"Welcome back to the circus," Mason murmured, deadpan, the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
The grandfather clock chimed softly, a delicate, unyielding reminder of the time slipping away. The sound echoed through the lounge, wrapping around them like a quiet countdown, threading into the hush between breaths.
Lottie's gaze lingered on Adrian for a heartbeat longer, the weight of years and betrayals hanging heavy in the air. Her throat tightened, a knot of emotion sharp beneath her ribs. "We need to move fast," she said softly, her voice slipping into command, the steel sliding back into place. "Before she spins this beyond our reach."
Adrian's nod was slow, deliberate. "Then let's move."
Outside, Evelyn watched from the shadows, breath misting in the cold night air, her nails digging crescent moons into her palms. Her heart pounded, a wild staccato beneath the silk and lace, the brittle edge of control fraying strand by strand. Her teeth worried at her lower lip, a flash of white against red as her mind raced, wheels turning in frantic calculation.
Inside, as the door clicked shut behind them, Lottie felt a cautious flicker of something deep in her chest—a tentative hope, fragile and fierce, as old bonds began, ever so slowly, to knit back together. Her fingers brushed the edge of her sleeve, the fabric cool against her skin, and for just a moment, she allowed herself a quiet, breathless stillness before the next storm.