~ Lucian's Private Villa~
* Midnight*
The room was silent, cloaked in shadows. Ivy lay still in the plush bed, tangled in the sheets, her forehead damp with sweat. The moment her eyes fluttered shut, the dream returned—violent and too real.
She stood in a dark forest, the moon casting long shadows through the trees. She was running, barefoot, her breaths ragged. Behind her, two silhouettes moved with cold precision—one cloaked in black with a scarred jawline and eyes like steel: *Ravik*. The other, smiling with cruel intent, held a gun loosely in his hand: *Izrael*.
"You can't run from what you were made to be," Ravik's voice echoed.
Izrael stepped beside him. "Did you miss me, little sister?"
Gunshots rang. Ivy fell. The world spun.
Then—*a bloodcurdling scream*.
She sat upright in bed, gasping, heart pounding like a war drum. Her hands trembled as they clutched the sheets. She dragged her legs out of bed, wiping the sweat from her brow, the dream clinging to her like smoke.
The house was quiet, but sleep had long abandoned her. She padded downstairs, hoodie tugged over her sleepwear, heading to the kitchen.
Opening the fridge, she reached for a water bottle—and froze.
Lucain was there already by the
counter, a glass in hand. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, hair slightly messy, and he looked at her with unreadable eyes.
Neither spoke at first. Just silence, thick as fog.
"You scream in your sleep," Lucian finally said, voice low but not cold.
Ivy blinked, avoiding his gaze. "Didn't know I had an audience."
"You wake the cameras. I get notified."
She gave a tight nod, unscrewed her bottle, and took a long drink.
He didn't ask questions—but he didn't leave either. They stood in that quiet space, two soldiers with invisible scars.
After a beat, Lucian said, "Was it Ravik?"
Her eyes darted up. A beat passed.
"…And Izrael," she whispered.
Lucian nodded once. "You're not alone, Ivy."
She didn't reply—but her fingers relaxed on the bottle. Just a little.
The silence lingered a moment longer.
Ivy leaned against the counter, her fingers tightening slightly around the water bottle. Her voice, low and cautious, broke through.
*"How do you know Ravik?"*
Lucian didn't flinch. He met her gaze with the same composed calm he wore like armor.
*"You didn't tell me his name,"* she added, her eyes narrowing, suddenly more alert. *"But you said it anyway. How?"*
Lucian exhaled, setting his glass down with a soft clink. He stepped closer, just enough for his presence to feel heavier.
*"Because I've crossed paths with him before,"* he said calmly. *"Years ago, in a covert op in Prague. He was using a different name back then, but the eyes were the same. Cold. Unrelenting. He was working for someone else… Blackwood, though we didn't know it then."*
Ivy blinked, the cold in her chest deepening.
*"You knew… and you never said anything?"*
*"I suspected. But I wanted confirmation. And tonight…"* he tilted his head, studying her. *"You gave me that."*
There was tension in the air now. Ivy turned her gaze away, jaw tight, heart racing not from fear—but from the realization that Lucian had been tracking threads she hadn't noticed.
*"You're not the only one with ghosts, Knox."* His voice was quieter now. *"You've been watching everyone. I've been watching you."*
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then Ivy stepped back from the counter.
*"So what now?"* she asked.
Lucian gave her a look that could freeze fire.
*"Now we hunt him."*
Got it. Here's the next phase with Lucian choosing to go low for a while:
—
Lucian's eyes didn't waver as Ivy waited for his next words. But instead of snapping into action or giving orders, he stepped back, leaned slightly on the counter, and let out a slow breath.
*"We pull back,"* he said firmly.
Ivy looked up, surprised. *"What?"*
*"We go low. No movement, no retaliation. Not yet."* His tone was decisive. *"They're expecting us to strike while emotions are high. That would be sloppy."*
Ivy folded her arms, clearly dissatisfied. *"So we just… wait? After they nearly took us out?"*
Lucian met her frustration with calm authority. *"Yes. We wait and watch. This isn't just about reaction anymore, Ivy. This is chess. Not checkers."*
She fell silent, the logic in his words undeniable, even if her heart itched to act.
Lucian turned toward the window, the faint glimmer of city lights dancing in his sharp gaze. *"We'll stay under for now. Let the smoke settle. We'll find the mole's full reach. And then—"* he paused, voice low, *"we move like ghosts."*
Ivy gave a short nod, grudging but understanding.
*"Fine. But not for too long."*
Lucian smirked slightly. *"Wouldn't dare."*
Morning sunlight crept through the tall windows of Lucian Reign's estate, bathing the sleek marble floors in pale gold. The estate, a blend of austere luxury and refined calm, felt unusually alive. In the center of the expansive living room, Lucian sat with his legs crossed neatly, clad in a crisp black shirt and dark trousers. A tablet rested in his lap, a stack of hardcopy reports on the table beside his untouched coffee.
Across from him, Adrian lounged in a lazy sprawl on the plush charcoal couch. His shirt was wrinkled, and his hair slightly tousled, as though he had only half-prepared for the day. He flipped through a printed market report with exaggerated boredom.
*"You know, if we push the ReignTech beta launch just two weeks forward, we could align it with the Prague delegation's summit,"* Adrian said, tapping the edge of the file. *"We'd gain thirty percent more investor exposure. That's not small."*
Lucian didn't glance up. *"The Prague delegation isn't reliable. They delayed last year and leaked our testing phases. I'm not risking that again."*
*"Still thinking about that one breach?"* Adrian scoffed. *"That was barely a blip. Besides, you're practically sleeping with your firewalls."*
Lucian gave him a look over the rim of his tablet—flat and unimpressed. *"Hyperbole is the sign of desperation."*
*"And ice is the sign of emotional repression,"* Adrian muttered. Lucian ignored it.
They sat like that for several moments—Lucian immersed in strategic models, Adrian occasionally attempting to break the silence with half-hearted proposals. The scene, while mundane, held a quiet pulse of rhythm—brothers in different orbits yet tethered by familiarity.
The sound of soft footsteps descending the stairs disrupted the cadence.
Both brothers paused, the air shifting slightly as Ivy appeared at the edge of the landing.
She moved down the steps slowly, dressed not in her usual hoodies and oversized jeans, but in a soft grey knit top tucked effortlessly into sleek black joggers that molded around her hips. Her dark hair, brushed out and loosely styled, gave her a slightly dreamlike quality in the morning light. On her feet were plain, cozy house slippers.
Lucian's eyes flicked up instinctively. He blinked once, noting the absence of combat boots or camouflage, then returned his gaze to his tablet—though it lingered longer this time.
Adrian, however, reacted instantly.
He stood up, eyebrows raised, lips parting in theatrical shock. *"Okay… what happened to you?"*
Ivy stopped at the foot of the stairs, giving him a half-lidded glance. *"What?"*
*"You look like someone who didn't crawl out of a server room at 3 a.m."* He grinned. *"I'm impressed. You're almost glowing."*
She rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. There was a certain clarity to her today—calm, maybe, or simply exhausted from too much emotion the night before. Whatever it was, she hadn't planned to look like anything. She just hadn't cared enough to hide.
*"That's offensive,"* she mumbled, brushing past him toward the kitchen.
Adrian followed, still marveling. *"No, no, it's a compliment. You look almost… normal. Don't worry, I'll keep your hacker street cred safe."*
As Ivy poured herself a glass of water, Lucian's eyes glanced over his tablet again, tracing the line of her posture, her ease in his space. She didn't fit, not really. And yet—she didn't look wrong either.
She turned slightly and gave him a brief look.
*"Good morning,"* she said, voice quiet, neutral.
Lucian looked up slowly. There was a pause, almost imperceptible, as though he'd expected her silence instead. Then—
*"Morning,"* he replied, his voice lower than usual.
Adrian, of course, didn't let it slide.
*"Oh my God. Did everyone hear that? Civil conversation! Polite tone! I knew it. This is it. You two are falling in love."*
Lucian calmly turned a page.
*"Adrian,"* he said evenly, *"go do something useless elsewhere."*
*"Can't. I live for this,"* Adrian smirked, returning to his seat with a triumphant grin.
Ivy sat on the edge of the lounge, pulling out her laptop and beginning to tap away. Lucian resumed reading, though his eyes flicked over the top of the report from time to time, his mind strangely unsettled by how different she looked today.
There was something about this moment—so domestic, so unlike the chaos of their lives—that made it all feel more dangerous than any hacker, or bullet.
Because peace, even in fleeting minutes, was a rare and disarming thing