Chapter 70
2372words
Zurich | En Route to Lake District | City Outskirts
Past Noon (CET)
The black sedan waited at the hotel entrance, its engine purring quietly in the pale morning light. Lucian opened the rear door first, stepping aside to let Kristina and Eli slip in after him. The driver, a sharply dressed man with an air of quiet precision, nodded once and returned his attention to the road, leaving the backseat entirely to them.
Kristina sank into the plush leather, pulling the soft blanket from the suite over her lap. Eli settled beside her, careful not to crowd, while Lucian took the remaining corner seat, close enough to brush her shoulder without intruding. The city, dusted with winter snow, passed quietly outside the window, streets empty enough to feel like the world had shrunk just for them.
“So,” Eli murmured, letting his gaze drift over the rooftops, “this lake Lucian mentioned… have you been there before?”
Kristina hesitated, fingers brushing against the leather armrest. “No,” she said slowly. “Not this one. I’ve been in Switzerland—many times—but never like this. It was… work.” Her jaw tightened for a moment. “The Black Harrow doesn’t take trips.”
Lucian’s eyes flicked to her, steady and calm. “Then today, it’s different. No shadows, no deadlines. Just you, us, and the lake. I thought you could use a place like that—quiet, neutral, somewhere the past doesn’t follow.”
Eli smiled faintly. “I’d say that counts as a first.”
Kristina’s gaze wandered to the snow outside. She could feel the contrast—the Switzerland she knew, cold and controlled, always a mission or threat waiting, versus this calm, curated journey Lucian had planned. The quiet hum of the engine, the gentle chatter between Eli and Lucian, even the soft padding of tires on snowed streets—all of it felt like a small miracle. For once, Switzerland was not a battlefield. For once, it was just snow, sky, and the slow promise of a day made only for them.
The sedan glided over the final stretch of winding road, snow-dusted trees arching overhead. Lucian guided them silently, the driver’s hands steady on the wheel. Soon, the city gave way entirely to open winter fields, the air sharper, cleaner, almost electric with quiet.
Kristina leaned forward slightly, her eyes widening as the first glimpse of the lake appeared—a broad expanse of silver, still and glassy, surrounded by old stone pathways and frosted evergreens. The winter light caught the ice along the edges, turning it into jagged lace. For a moment, she simply stared, the tightness she’d carried for months loosening like morning mist.
“It’s… beautiful,” she murmured, almost to herself. The words felt strange, foreign, even a little fragile, like admitting that Switzerland could be something other than danger and missions.
“I thought it might help,” Lucian said quietly. “A place where Switzerland isn’t tied to missions, shadows, or deadlines. Just quiet. For you.”
Eli, unable to resist, leaned toward her with a grin. “I told you—terrible coffee can wait. Nature does wonders for the soul, apparently.”
Kristina laughed softly, the sound lighter than it had been in weeks. She let herself stretch her arms above her head, then exhaled fully, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I… I didn’t realize I could feel this… calm. It’s almost unsettling.”
“Almost?” Lucian raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching as if fighting a smile.
Eli chimed in, mock serious. “Yes, almost, because clearly, something like calm doesn’t exist in her world unless she’s being plotted against.”
Kristina shot him a mock glare, then shook her head, chuckling. “You two are impossible.”
Lucian’s expression softened but remained composed. “We’re just making sure you remember how this feels. One day, Kristina, it might help you.”
The car had stopped at a small parking area near the stone walkway. The driver opened the rear door, letting the cold, crisp air drift in. Lucian stepped out first, holding the door open for them.
“The car will wait here,” Lucian said, his voice calm and precise. “If you want, we can take a walk along the lake or just sit. No rush.”
She breathed in sharply, the crisp air tasting sweeter than expected. A small flock of birds wheeled across the gray sky, their wings catching the pale sunlight. She laughed softly, letting it bubble out without thought. For once, danger felt distant.
Kristina stepped onto the snow-dusted path, pulling her coat tighter around her. Eli followed, hands in pockets, a playful bounce in his step.
“Race you to that bench?” he said suddenly, pointing to a low stone seat at the water’s edge.
Kristina glanced at him, then at Lucian, who simply tilted his head, unamused but not discouraging. “Fine,” she said, breaking into a short sprint. The snow crunched beneath her boots, a carefree sound that made her feel… lighter.
Eli laughed, chasing her, while Lucian walked at a measured pace, his eyes scanning the lake, the trees, and her small smile.
Settling onto the bench, Kristina exhaled, letting her gaze drift over the ice and water. Eli flopped onto the stone beside her, leaning back with exaggerated ease. “See? Life is easy when you have a lake. And two guys to compete over.”
Lucian’s dry voice cut in, perfectly timed. “Competition is optional.”
Eli gave him a pointed look. “Optional, sure… but highly recommended for morale.”
Kristina laughed, the tension that had weighed her down for months melting further with each passing second. For the first time, Switzerland wasn’t danger, it wasn’t missions—it was just winter, sunlight, and the two men who’d chosen to bring her here, fully and without shadow.
Afternoon (CET)
The narrow path along the lake crunched under their boots, frost glittering on every stone. Lucian led the way, deliberate and calm, while Kristina and Eli followed, the crisp winter air filling their lungs.
Kristina glanced around, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this… relaxed.”
Lucian’s gaze swept the lake, gray and silver in the winter light. “That was the idea. I thought it might be… good for you. For all of us.”
Eli grinned, nudging her lightly. “See? I knew Lucian had a heart somewhere under all that stoic exterior. Who knew he’d pick a lake as a morale booster?”
Lucian’s expression remained controlled, but there was the faintest curve to his mouth. “I don’t pick lakes for morale. I pick them because they’re quiet. And sometimes, quiet is exactly what we need.”
Kristina’s eyes softened as she looked at him, then down at the glistening water. “Well… quiet is good. Very good.” She stepped closer to the edge, where a stream flowed into the lake over smooth rocks, creating a soft, gentle waterfall that glimmered in the pale sunlight. “It’s beautiful.”
Eli crouched beside her, eyes lighting up. “A gentle waterfall, yet somehow it feels like it’s making the whole lake more alive. Kind of like you, apparently. Don’t let Lucian hear me say that.”
Lucian’s gaze flicked to them both, steady but unamused. “Accuracy is rarely offensive.”
Kristina laughed, the sound lighter than she had felt in months. “I could stay here forever… just this, no assignments, no shadows, no chaos.”
Eli leaned back on his heels, arms propped behind him. “You might actually get used to normal life, you know. Careful.”
Kristina’s grin widened, and she glanced at Lucian. “And all this… it’s your idea?”
“Yes,” Lucian said quietly, watching her closely. “I thought it was time you saw Switzerland without it being… work.”
Kristina glanced around at the quiet lake, the snow-dusted banks, and the soft ripple of water. “Could we… take a photo?” she asked, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
Eli grinned immediately. “Of course. Let me see—perfect light, right here.” He motioned for her to stand between them, kneeling slightly to fit them all in.
Lucian’s expression didn’t change much, but his hand moved to rest lightly on Kristina’s shoulder, steadying her. “Cheese, I suppose,” he muttered, the faintest smirk at the corner of his lips.
Kristina laughed softly, and Eli clicked the camera. “There,” he said, showing them the screen. “Look at that. Peaceful, happy… you might even call it a normal day.”
Lucian’s eyes flicked to her, soft but unreadable. “For once,” he said, voice low.
Kristina glanced at both of them, her heart lighter than it had been all week. “I like this,” she said. “All of it.”
For the first time, Kristina felt the weight of her past lift slightly. She stepped closer to the water, letting the thin mist from the waterfall brush her face. Her pulse felt lighter, her mood brighter. Eli continued teasing, keeping the conversation playful, while Lucian remained watchful but unintrusively close.
Here, at the edge of the lake, with snow drifting lazily over the surface and the faint sound of the waterfall, Kristina allowed herself to simply be—light, hopeful, and present, with both of them beside her.
The sun had begun its slow descent, painting the lake and surrounding trees in pale gold. They had wandered along the snowy paths, laughing softly at Eli’s teasing remarks and marveling at the way the light danced across the water. Kristina’s cheeks were flushed from the cold, her mood lighter, almost playful—a stark contrast to the tense mornings of the past.
She glanced up at Lucian and Eli, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “So… the café. You promised we’d go,” she said, a faint smirk in her voice.
Eli chuckled. “Ah, yes. Time to see if it lives up to my high recommendation—or your expected complaints.”
Lucian simply nodded, his gaze sweeping over the serene lake one last time. “Shall we?”
They turned back along the path toward the edge of the parking area where the black sedan waited, the driver still poised, as if he had been expecting them to return at just this moment. Kristina took a deep breath, savoring the moment, and the rare feeling of unhurried freedom.
Eli leaned slightly toward the driver as they reached the car. “Drive us to Café Brasserie du Coin,” he said. “And take it slow—the roads are still slick.”
The driver nodded once, smooth and professional, then started the engine. The backseat was again theirs, cozy and quiet, the city streets gradually giving way to the café’s neighborhood, warm lights and the smell of fresh bread wafting through the air.
Kristina leaned back, glancing between Lucian and Eli. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this place and love it at the same time,” she said with a laugh.
Eli grinned. “That’s the whole point.”
Lucian smirked faintly, his eyes on the passing streets. “Then let’s see if your prediction holds.”
Zurich | Café Brasserie du Coin
Late Afternoon (CET)
The sedan slowed and pulled up in front of Café Brasserie du Coin, a small corner spot with frosted windows and a faint wisp of steam rising from a chimney. A bell chimed as they opened the door, and the warm scent of freshly baked bread and faintly bitter coffee enveloped them.
Kristina blinked, letting the heat wash over her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “See? Already better than I expected.”
Eli strode in ahead of her, leaning slightly against the counter as he surveyed the cozy space. “Don’t let appearances fool you,” he said, nodding toward a crooked row of mismatched chairs. “The coffee here is terrible. Absolutely terrible. But somehow… you end up loving it anyway.”
Lucian followed silently, his gaze sweeping the café as if cataloging everything—the worn wood floors, the faded paintings on the walls, the way sunlight caught the dust motes in the air. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, calm, but carrying that familiar weight of authority. “It’s… quaint. And for her, that’s enough.”
Kristina laughed softly. “You two are ridiculous. Both of you.” She shook her head, eyes flicking to the slightly crooked table and mismatched chairs, a familiar tug at her perfectionist instincts. “Come on, sit before I change my mind and start judging the chairs.”
Eli leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Judging the chairs, huh? Thought you’d love a chance to practice letting imperfection exist.”
Lucian’s gaze lingered on her, soft but unreadable. The faint nod he gave Eli said everything: he knew what Eli was doing—and approved.
Kristina hesitated for just a moment, then let out a breathy laugh, sliding into the chair despite the wobble. Somehow, letting the imperfection be… felt lighter than she expected.
They found a small table by the window, the kind that wobbled just enough to make Eli groan but not enough to stop Kristina from tugging her chair close. Lucian sat across from her, eyes steady, while Eli claimed the corner seat beside her, elbow brushing lightly against hers.
“Do we… order something?” Kristina asked, glancing at the handwritten menu above the counter.
Eli leaned back, smirking. “Absolutely. I suggest bread, croissants, maybe something you’ll complain about but secretly like.”
Lucian raised an eyebrow. “And coffee?”
Kristina grinned, a playful sparkle in her eyes. “Only if it’s terrible enough to make me laugh while drinking it.”
The waiter—an older man with a kindly face—approached, and Eli launched into a full spiel, requesting pastries, bread, and three coffees, each one deliberately chosen to be slightly too strong or bitter. Kristina rolled her eyes but laughed softly, the sound carrying freely in the cozy room.
As they waited, the conversation drifted from playful teasing to lighter, almost ordinary topics—favorite childhood foods, travel anecdotes, and small memories from past winters. Kristina found herself relaxing, letting the weight of her usual vigilance slip just enough to feel like this was… normal. Like this could be happiness without danger or shadows.
Lucian occasionally interjected with sharp, dry observations, Eli countered with exaggerated humor, and Kristina floated between them, laughter and warmth weaving through the space. For once, Switzerland wasn’t a place of missions or risk. It was just the three of them, a small café, and the quiet joy of being together.
Some moments are meant to linger, even as the world moves forward.
—To be continued.
