By the time I got home, the sun was still high enough to stain the sky a muted gold. It wasn't even close to evening. For once in what felt like forever, I was back early.

And the second I stepped through the door, I heard her.

A quick, light patter of footsteps.

Then—

"Husband!" Val's voice spilled down the hallway before she did. She appeared at the corner, hair loose, eyes bright the moment she saw me. She wasn't even pretending to be calm. She practically beamed.

"You're home already?" she asked, walking straight into my space like she owned every inch of it, which, honestly, she did. "I thought Trent kidnapped you for the whole day."

I shot her a look. "You make it sound like it's something he would absolutely do."

"It is," she said, as if this wasn't even debatable.

I set my keys on the console table and leaned down to brush a kiss across her forehead, but she still looked at me like she was waiting for an explanation. Not in a pushy way, just that soft curiosity she always carried around me.

"I'm back," I murmured.

"And I'm glad," she murmured back.

She slipped her hand into mine almost instinctively and tugged me toward the stairs.

> "Come on. If Trent let you escape this early, at least change into something comfortable."

I let her pull me along. Upstairs was quiet. Aline was probably resting in her room, Duchess with her as usual, so the house felt even softer than normal. The kind of peaceful that made my shoulders drop the moment I stepped into our room.

Val followed right behind me, closing the door with her hip like she owned the place, which again, she did, and leaned on the doorframe as I loosened my tie.

"So Trent didn't steal you for the whole day," she said lightly. "Miracles do happen."

I slid my watch off. "Barely."

She giggled, then wandered closer as I unbuttoned my shirt, resting her chin on my shoulder from behind.

> "You smell like the outside."

"I was outside."

"Well, fix it," she said, giving my shirt a small tug like she could peel it off herself. "Change into something soft."

I snorted. "You mean something you can steal later?"

She didn't deny it. Just smiled against my shoulder and stepped back so I could change into something looser, more comfortable. A black T-shirt and soft grey sweatpants later, she approved with a nod like she was inspecting equipment.

"There," she said. "Now you look stealable again."

I shook my head, chuckling at how she made things like this sound normal.

---

We headed downstairs after that, naturally gravitating toward the couch like it was habit at this point. She curled up against me the way she always did—knees tucked in, head resting against my chest, fingers absently brushing the back of my hand like she needed them to be touching something.

The TV played some random show neither of us were paying attention to.

Time moved slowly around her. Or maybe it moved too easily. I couldn't tell.

After a while, I glanced down at her.

"You're not gonna ask why Trent called me out?"

> "Nope."

I blinked. "No?"

"Nope." She didn't even look away from the TV. "Because if it's important, you'd tell me."

I stared at her for a second. Sometimes she made things too simple. And sometimes she made them too right.

"Fair enough," I said softly.

She shifted her head to look up at me, silently waiting now that she saw the change in my expression.

So I began.

"Trent saw something yesterday," I said slowly. "Something important."

Her brow furrowed, the slightest hint of tension forming. "What is it?"

"He was heading out to meet a client with his team. And on the way, he saw Lucien."

Her reaction was immediate. Her body grew a little more alert, though she didn't sit up yet.

> "Lucien? Doing what?"

"Talking to someone," I said. "A guy named Benjamin Otavio."

She blinked. "Benjamin who?"

I replied. "That was my exact reaction."

She finally pushed herself up so she was sitting beside me, facing me fully now. Knees crossed under her, hair falling to one side, eyes fixed on mine with that sharp, perceptive intensity she carried only when she sensed something no longer matched the normal shape of her world.

> "And who is he? Otavio?"

I exhaled.

"According to Trent? The CEO of Vanguard Ark Investments."

Her brows knit tighter. "I've never heard of them."

"That makes two of us."

> "What did Trent say they do?"

I rubbed a hand across my jaw. "Pretty much the same thing Cole Capital Group does. Investment management, project financing, asset portfolios, everything that looks clean and glossy on paper."

She nodded slowly. "Okay… so they're competitors to Trent's company."

"Yeah."

> "That still doesn't explain why he saw Lucien with their CEO."

"That," I said, "is exactly what Trent thought too."

Silence hovered a moment. A heavy one.

She swallowed. "Go on."

"Vanguard Ark looks perfect on paper," I explained. "But Trent said they're known for… well, not being as clean as they pretend. Shady deals. Unethical loopholes. They have a reputation for burying risks deep enough for their partners not to notice until it's too late."

Her face paled.

I kept going gently, "He said they're good at making things look legitimate. On the surface. Contracts disguised as opportunities. Proposals that look profitable until you dig past the shine."

And then I told her the rest, how Trent advised warning Lucien, how he'd been serious the entire time, how even he didn't know what exactly the conversation between Lucien and Benjamin Otavio was about, only that it didn't look casual.

Val's breath hitched faintly at the end, and she lifted a hand to her forehead.

"Oh God…" she whispered.

I reached out, resting my hand on her knee. "Hey."

"He…" Her voice cracked for a heartbeat. "He wouldn't—Kai, he wouldn't just do something reckless like that. Not now. Not with everything so close. He wouldn't."

I didn't say anything.

Because I knew she knew the truth.

And she did.

Her shoulders dropped, brows pulling together in that expression she got whenever Lucien was involved, half protective sister, half someone watching a wildfire two miles away and hoping the wind didn't change direction.

"He's been…" she began breathlessly, "He's been making changes. To our final presentation. Too many. And too fast." She shook her head. "He says he's optimizing, but it doesn't feel like optimizing. It feels like he's trying to prove something to Dad again."

I squeezed her knee gently. "Val—"

She cut in quietly, "I know he wants to show Dad he can lead. I know he's trying to step out of that shadow. But he keeps pushing pieces that don't need pushing. Rewriting parts that should be stable. Adding risks where they don't belong."

Her eyes lifted to mine, worry stark across them.

"And if he's talking to someone like that Otavio guy…" She exhaled shakily. "Kai, that means he's looking for leverage. Backup. Something outside the company."

I slid closer and wrapped an arm around her, drawing her against me. She leaned in immediately, forehead against my collarbone.

"We'll talk to him," I said softly. "We'll warn him. Together."

She nodded against me, but the tension in her body didn't ease.

"I don't want him getting swallowed by something stupid," she whispered. "He's still my brother, even when he's—" Her voice shook. "Even when he's impossible."

"I know." My thumb brushed her shoulder. "We'll handle it."

She stayed quiet for a long moment.

Then—

She lifted her head.

Her expression softened. Shifted. Took a turn I'd seen a hundred times, when her brain switched tracks without warning.

"So…" she said slowly, eyes narrowing as they trailed over my face. "We have two problems now."

I blinked. "Two?"

"Mhm." She leaned in, lips ghosting my jaw. "One: my brother might be making the dumbest mistake of his life."

"And two?"

Her eyes gleamed. Wickedly.

> "You're way too stressed for a Saturday."

I stared at her. "Val—"

> "We should fix that."

"That is not the priority."

"Maybe not," she whispered, her mouth brushing my neck. "But it's the weekend… and I hate seeing you tense."

I exhaled slowly, the edge leaving my shoulders. "I know. And I'm okay. Really."

Despite myself, I already felt calm, because she always did this. Swerved the conversation into a space where breathing got easier again.

"You're unreal," I muttered.

She grinned, triumphant. "And yet you married me."

"Who said I regret it?"

> "You'd better not."

She nudged her nose against mine, and there was no point pretending I wasn't feeling much better. It was supposed to be my job to steady her, to pull the worry off her shoulders… but somehow, she was the one grounding me instead.

I kissed her—soft, slow, grounding.

And when I pulled back, she was smiling the way she only smiled with me. That quiet, warm, I-know-you smile.

As I stared at that mischievous glint in her eyes, a thought crossed my mind:

Whatever was coming—Lucien, Vanguard Ark, the storm building behind the scenes—we'd face it together.

Always.

Even if the world tried to pull us apart, she'd burn with me, and I'd burn with her, before either of us walked away alone.

---

To be continued...

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