Chapter 55
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Lucian Sinclair's Estate | Kristina’s Bedroom
The quiet came first.
Not the kind that was sharp with avoidance or tension—but the kind that felt earned. Settled. Like the earth had stopped shifting beneath her feet just long enough for her to breathe.
Kristina stood by the window, barefoot on the cool floorboards, cradling a warm mug of coffee between both hands. Morning light spilled in across the bed, soft and gold, catching on the curtain edges and painting the room in something gentler than clarity.
She hadn’t slept well. Not from nightmares. Just... her thoughts didn’t seem to know how to sit still anymore.
Last night’s conversations echoed in her—Lucian’s arms around her, his words quiet and unyielding. Eli’s silence in the hallway. Sebastian’s understanding by the pool.
She sipped her coffee. It was a little bitter. She didn’t mind.
She stepped past her door and glanced down the hallway, both doors still closed. Lucian’s. Eli’s. Just a few steps away, yet it felt like standing in the middle of a quiet tide.
She exhaled slowly. Not quite heavy. Not quite light.
Present, at last.
And for now, that was enough.
Lucian Sinclair's Estate | Kitchen
The scent of coffee and eggs filled the kitchen. The quiet clink of utensils and the low hum of the espresso machine grounded the stillness in something familiar.
Eli stood at the stove, barefoot, sleeves rolled up, absently flipping an omelet with one hand while sipping from his mug with the other. He looked like he belonged there—like this wasn’t a morning after emotional turbulence, but just… any morning.
Lucian walked in, already dressed, hair still slightly damp from a shower. He leaned against the counter, watching Eli for a beat before speaking.
“You’re cooking.”
“You sound surprised,” Eli said without looking back. “I can handle eggs, you know.”
Lucian smirked faintly. “I’ve seen you burn toast.”
“That was one time. Toaster betrayed me.”
A comfortable pause followed. Lucian poured himself a cup of coffee, then moved beside him to reach for the salt. Eli didn’t step away.
“I saw her by the window earlier,” Lucian said, keeping his voice even.
Eli didn’t respond right away. “She looked okay?”
Lucian gave a small nod. “Quiet. But not lost.”
Eli hummed. “Good.”
There was something unspoken hanging in the air again—like the ghost of last night’s conversation still lingered in the walls.
Lucian finally asked, voice quieter this time, “You sleep?”
Eli shrugged. “Enough. You?”
Another pause.
Then Eli turned, finally meeting his eyes. “You’re not gonna break, Lucian.”
“I’m not worried about me,” Lucian said, and that was the truth.
Eli looked at him for a moment longer, then handed him a plate with half the omelet. “Sit. Eat. Overthinking’s not gonna fix anything.”
Lucian sat. The silence between them wasn’t distant—it was shared, companionable. Weighted by everything they hadn’t said, and everything they now understood.
The scent of eggs lingered in the air, mellowed now by the faint sweetness of toasted bread. The clink of cutlery had quieted, replaced by the occasional sip from a mug or the rustle of someone leaning back in a chair.
Kristina appeared in the doorway, still barefoot, still holding the mug from earlier. She hadn’t spoken yet, but both men noticed her.
Lucian looked up first. “Morning.”
She nodded. “Morning.”
Eli glanced over his shoulder from where he was rinsing a pan in the sink. His eyes met hers briefly—nothing pressing, just a flicker of acknowledgment. Familiar. Safe.
“You want something?” he asked, already reaching for a clean plate.
Kristina hesitated, then moved toward the counter. “Just toast’s fine.”
Lucian stood, quietly offering her his seat without a word. She didn’t argue, just sat and rested her mug on the table.
It wasn’t tense. But it wasn’t entirely easy, either.
Just… quiet.
The kind of quiet where everything was felt, even if no one had the words for it yet.
The silence settled comfortably—three people orbiting each other in something unspoken but not unbearable. The smell of toast, coffee, and the warmth of shared space filled in the blanks where conversation hadn’t.
“Please tell me someone made food and not just emotionally brooded in here,” Ash’s voice carried in as he rounded the corner, his hair still a bit messy from sleep.
Vex trailed behind him, hoodie halfway on, yawning as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Smells like breakfast. Smells like Eli’s doing.”
“I can cook,” Eli muttered from the sink without turning around.
Ash snorted. “Barely. The bar is ‘not burning the kitchen down.’”
Vex peered into the pan like it might bite. “Omelet looks edible. Impressive.”
Lucian arched a brow, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “We’re all surprised.”
Eli deadpanned, “Mutiny. In my own kitchen.”
Ash slid into a chair next to Kristina and gave her a once-over, his tone quieter. “You alright?”
Kristina nodded, eyes still on her mug. “Yeah. Getting there.”
“Good,” he said simply, not pushing.
Vex grabbed a plate from the counter and muttered, “You’d think for a house this big, we’d have a chef.”
Lucian glanced at him. “We do. He has weekends off.”
“Unacceptable,” Vex deadpanned. “I need hazard pay if Eli’s cooking becomes the standard.”
Kristina let out the smallest laugh—barely there, but enough to soften the edges in the room.
The kitchen was warm now—with coffee, food, and familiar noise. Not loud, not chaotic. Just lived-in.
Then came the unmistakable sound of footsteps—steady, deliberate.
Sebastian entered, sharp-eyed as always, his hair perfectly in place despite the early hour. He paused in the doorway, surveying the scene: Eli by the stove, Lucian at the table, Kristina nursing her coffee, Ash and Vex lounging like they lived here, which, technically, they did.
He raised a brow.
“Well,” he said dryly, “if it isn’t the elephant-sized triangle having breakfast.”
Ash choked on his juice.
Kristina nearly dropped her spoon.
Lucian gave him a slow, unreadable look.
Eli didn’t even blink. “Technically, it’s more of a tangled web. But sure, triangle works.”
Sebastian smirked. “I stand corrected. Polyhedral tension. My favorite morning flavor.”
“Could you not?” Lucian said, deadpan.
“Could I? Yes. Will I? Absolutely not,” Sebastian replied, already heading for the coffee pot.
Kristina set her mug down and shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m insightful,” he said, pouring himself a cup with elegant precision. “And hungry. Don’t let your emotional crises ruin the eggs.”
Ash leaned toward Kristina and whispered, “He’s been rehearsing that line since last night. I guarantee it.”
Kristina’s lips twitched—not quite a smile, but something close. Something soft.
But it lingered there at the edges of her expression—something easing.
And again, for this moment… that was enough.
Lucian Sinclair’s Estate | Living Room
Late Morning
Kristina was curled up at one end of the couch, barefoot, a worn paperback open in her lap. The sun through the tall windows gave the space a tender warmth, the kind that made it easy to forget the outside world existed at all.
Eli entered with a familiar mischievous glint in his eye and a box in his hands.
“Krissy,” he said, lifting the box slightly, “wanna solve a puzzle?”
Kristina looked up from her book, brow arched in amusement. She set the book aside and reached for the box, reading the label.
“Three thousand pieces?” she asked, lips twitching. “You’re challenging me again.”
Eli gave her that boyish grin. “Well, let’s see if you’re still good at it.”
They cleared the wide coffee table between the couches, spreading the pieces out in a chaotic sprawl. Kristina knelt on one side, Eli on the other. Their knees brushed once or twice—not on purpose, not quite accidental. They didn’t say anything about it.
Ash and Vex appeared in the doorway, intent on joining the living room laziness, but stopped when they saw the scene unfolding. They stood side by side, arms crossed.
Behind them, Lucian and Sebastian paused as well.
Eli was laughing softly at something Kristina said, the two of them leaning over the puzzle pieces, heads close. It was easy. Familiar.
Ash glanced at Lucian, then leaned toward Vex with a murmur that wasn’t as quiet as it should’ve been.
“Well. This just got interesting.”
Vex smirked. “Should we get popcorn or backup?”
Lucian didn’t say a word. His gaze lingered on them for a beat longer than necessary before brushing past the others without a word.
Sebastian didn’t bother hiding his sigh as he followed. “And here we go again,” he muttered under his breath.
They disappeared up the stairs, leaving Ash and Vex to exchange one last look before deciding it probably wasn’t the best time to hang around.
Lucian Sinclair’s Estate | Lucian’s Study
Sebastian followed Lucian into the study in silence. He knew better than to ask just yet.
Lucian went straight to his desk, sliding into the chair with practiced ease and flipping open a folder of documents. His fingers skimmed pages without really seeing them.
“Have the others said anything else about the Miller dismissal?” Lucian asked, voice even. “Anyone challenging the board’s decision?”
Sebastian leaned against the nearest bookshelf, arms crossed. “Nothing directly. Just murmurs. A few department heads were skeptical, but no one’s stupid enough to push when your grandfather already signed off on it.”
Lucian gave a settled hum, eyes still on the documents. “And the new protocol drafts?”
“They’re being reviewed. HR’s already started pulling records.”
A brief silence settled in the room, heavy but not unfamiliar.
Then Sebastian asked, casually but not carelessly, “So… what’s going on with Eli and Kristina?”
Lucian didn’t look up. Instead, he said, “Have you noticed she hasn’t worn any of my clothes?”
Sebastian blinked. “Yeah.”
Another beat of silence.
Then, Sebastian again—this time softer. “What are you doing, Lucian? Eli’s a good guy. He’s your best friend. Kristina’s your girlfriend.”
Lucian’s hand stilled on the paper. “Not totally… yet.”
Sebastian straightened. “What do you mean?”
Lucian exhaled through his nose. “I told her I love her. She didn’t respond.”
He paused. “I mean… she tried to. But I stopped her. I didn’t want her to say anything she wasn’t sure of yet.”
“She’s not sure?” Sebastian asked, frowning. “She came back. She stayed.”
“I know,” Lucian said quietly. “But you also know what she’s been through. How many people she’s had to survive.”
He leaned back in the chair, gaze unfocused. “This—us—is new to her. And now that Eli’s part of her life again, it’s made things… complicated… for her.”
Silence again.
Lucian added, “So I’m giving her time. Letting her figure it out.”
Sebastian’s voice was careful. “I’m not taking sides here. But what if you end up getting hurt? You’re new to this, too.”
Lucian looked at him. Calm. Certain.
“We all are,” he said. “But I don’t think anyone’s going to get hurt. And I think Eli knows that, too.”
Sebastian studied him. “Wait—are you saying…?”
Lucian nodded. “Yes. Kristina just needs to realize it.”
Lucian Sinclair’s Estate | Upstairs Hallway
Ash sat on the window bench with one leg pulled up, staring out across the frost-laced grounds. Vex leaned beside the frame, arms crossed, gaze tracking nothing in particular. Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t lazy or dull—it was listening.
“They’re circling each other,” Ash said quietly.
Vex nodded. “More like orbiting. Same center, different gravity.”
Ash glanced over. “You always get poetic when you’re worried.”
“I’m not worried,” Vex replied. “I just don’t like pretending we don’t see it.”
Ash exhaled slowly. “They think we don’t.”
“They think we’re just the comic relief.”
Ash chuckled. “To be fair, we are pretty funny.”
“Sure. But we’re also not blind.” Vex’s voice softened. “Lucian’s trying to stay in control. Eli’s walking a tightrope. Kristina’s in the middle of it—but I don’t think she even knows where she’s standing.”
Ash shifted, thoughtful. “You think they’ll fall apart?”
“No,” Vex said. “I think they’ll fall together. Eventually. But it’s going to take time. And probably a few bruises.”
A beat passed.
Ash asked, “Do we step in?”
Vex shook his head. “Not unless someone starts bleeding emotionally. Then maybe.”
They both heard the soft, familiar sound of laughter from below—Kristina and Eli, puzzle pieces and quiet affection.
Ash said, “Lucian’s not down there.”
“No. But he’s watching. Always is.” Vex paused. “And Sebastian’s watching him.”
Ash smiled faintly. “So we watch them all.”
“We always have.”
They stood in silence for another moment.
Then Ash bumped Vex’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go make ourselves useful. Or at least look decorative while the main cast implodes.”
Vex grinned. “Speak for yourself. I’m the whole side plot.”
Ash raised a brow. “You're not a side plot. You're the subplot with emotional payoff.”
They both laughed—low and easy—but behind their humor was a shared knowing:
They weren’t just onlookers.
They were anchors.
And they would be here… when the fallout came.
The space between isn’t distance. It’s becoming aware.
—To be continued.
