Chapter 77
2205words
Lucian Sinclair Estate | North Courtyard Garden
Kristina blinked awake to the pale glow of dawn filtering through the curtains. The room was warm, the air heavy with the quiet rhythm of sleep. On her left, Lucian lay with one arm draped across his chest, his face softened in rare tranquility. On her right, Eli had curled slightly toward her, his breath slow and even, a faint snore slipping past his lips.
A smile tugged at her mouth. For a long moment, she just watched them, a hush of gratitude pressing against her ribs. Then, careful not to disturb either, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lucian’s forehead, then Eli’s. Both stirred faintly but didn’t wake.
She eased herself from the bed and padded across the suite, pulling on a light robe. The halls were quiet as she descended to the kitchen, where the staff was already stirring. “Could you prepare breakfast for everyone?” she asked softly, and they nodded without hesitation.
With a steaming cup of coffee in hand, she stepped out into the garden. The air was crisp, touched with the dampness of early morning, and the first streaks of sunlight stretched across the frost-kissed hedges. She drew in a deep breath, letting the stillness settle in her bones.
She had just taken her first sip when footsteps crunched softly against the gravel path. Sebastian emerged from around the hedge, hands in his coat pockets, shoulders loose but his eyes alert as always.
“Morning,” he said, voice low and rough with sleep.
Kristina lifted her cup in greeting. “You’re up early.”
His mouth curved faintly. “So are you. Couldn’t sleep?”
“Not exactly.” She glanced back toward the house, then back at him. “I just… needed a little air.”
Sebastian studied her for a moment, then nodded, moving to stand beside her. Together, they looked out over the garden as the sun broke slowly over the horizon.
Kristina took another sip of her coffee, savoring the warmth against the chill of morning. Beside her, Sebastian shifted his weight, the gravel crunching under his boots.
“You look tired,” he said gently.
She gave him a sideways glance. “You always know how to compliment a woman first thing in the morning.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Not what I meant. Just… you’ve been carrying a lot. I can see it.”
Her smile softened. “I’m fine, Sebastian.”
“Mm,” he murmured, unconvinced. “You don’t have to be fine all the time, you know.”
Kristina looked out at the sunrise, letting the golden light stretch across the garden. For a moment, she said nothing, simply breathing in the quiet.
Kristina exhaled softly, eyes still on the horizon. “This helps,” she admitted at last. “Watching them sleep, knowing they’re here… safe.”
A long silence stretched between them before Sebastian spoke. His tone was calm, but there was an edge of curiosity beneath it. “In Zurich… or here?”
Kristina froze for a moment, caught off guard. Slowly, she turned her head to meet his gaze. His eyes were steady, searching, but not condemning. She looked back toward the horizon instead, taking a slow breath.
“I… asked them to sleep with me last night.”
The words were simple, almost casual, but they landed with weight. There was no shame in her tone, no apology. Only truth.
Sebastian blinked, his brows lifting. For once, the usually unshakable man was at a loss for words. He rubbed the back of his neck, a small, incredulous laugh slipping out—more at himself than at her.
“Kristina… you know I’m not exactly accustomed to… this. The idea of you with—” He stopped, his hand gesturing vaguely. “—two men. It’s not what most people would call normal.”
Kristina finally looked at him, her expression firm, her chin tilted up.
“I don’t need anyone’s permission, Seb. I don’t care what other people say… at least, not anymore. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can just… breathe. And I’m not about to let go of that.”
Sebastian held her gaze, his initial shock softening into something else. Respect. Affection. A quiet acceptance. His shoulders eased, and he nodded slowly.
“I know. I wasn’t trying to lecture you. I just…” His voice lowered, more thoughtful. “Not everyone might understand this. Some might even fight you for it. But this is your life, Kristina. Your happiness. And even if it’s not what I expected for you… I’m proud. Proud to see you finally chasing it. Finally holding onto something that makes you feel alive.”
Her lips curved into a small, genuine smile. The kind that came from deep down.
“Thank you, Seb.”
He grinned, crooked and warm, his usual teasing slipping back in just a little.
“Someone’s gotta look out for you. Guess it’s my job to remind you you’re allowed to be happy… even if you’re rewriting all the rules.”
Kristina chuckled softly, sipping her coffee, the weight in her chest a little lighter. For the first time, she felt like someone outside that room—outside of Lucian and Eli—truly saw her choice for what it was. Not scandal. Not weakness. But strength.
The garden stayed quiet after that, only the sound of the waking birds filling the spaces their words had left behind.
Lucian Sinclair Estate | Kristina’s Bedroom
Early Morning
Kristina lingered in the garden until the sun climbed higher, the estate slowly stirring with quiet movement. California air was softer than Zurich’s winter chill, fragrant with roses and eucalyptus.
Eventually, she slipped back through the hallways and opened her bedroom door.
The sight waiting for her made her pause.
Eli and Lucian were still asleep, the sheets tangled from the night before. Eli had collapsed closest to her side, one arm draped over her pillow as though he’d been reaching for her in his sleep. Lucian, on the far side, slept on his back with the kind of stillness that only came when he finally allowed himself rest. One hand rested lightly near his chest, the other against the mattress between them, unconsciously claiming space, not people.
For a moment, she just stood there, taking them in. These two men—so different, so impossible—and yet here they were, sharing her room, her world.
Kristina set her empty cup back on the nightstand, the room still holding the intimacy of last night. She eased onto the bed again, slipping into the space between them, where the sheets still held the trace of her.
Lucian stirred first. His lashes lifted slowly, gaze sharpening the moment he realized she was there. A faint crease tugged at his brow, equal parts reproach and relief.
“You went walking alone,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. His hand found hers beneath the sheets, steady and grounding. “You know I hate waking up without you.”
Before she could answer, Eli shifted against her other side. Still half-asleep, he slid an arm around her waist and tugged her closer, nestling his face into the curve of her shoulder with a drowsy sigh.
“Mmm. Don’t care what time it is,” he mumbled. “Stay here.”
Lucian scooted nearer too, his body instinctively closing the space until the three of them were tangled in quiet embrace. Trapped between their warmth, Kristina let out a soft, breathless giggle.
“You two would sleep until sunset if I let you.”
Lucian’s lips curved faintly, brushing her temple as he tightened his hold. “Nothing wrong with that,” he whispered.
Eli hummed in agreement, already drifting back under. “As long as you’re here when we wake…”
Kristina let out a soft huff, pinned between their warmth, though the corner of her mouth curved despite herself.
“You two are impossible,” she murmured.
Lucian’s chest rumbled against her shoulder. “We’re comfortable,” he corrected smoothly, as though that excused everything.
Eli’s arm tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer. His voice was muffled against her hair. “You started it, sneaking off and then crawling back in here. Now you’re trapped.”
She laughed, low and unwilling, wriggling as though she might free herself, but neither of them budged. Lucian only shifted closer, his arm slipping under her pillow, his hand resting at the curve of her neck. Without planning it, instinct tugged them both closer until she was enclosed in their warmth.
Kristina’s protest died before it reached her lips. The warmth, the weight, the steady rhythm of their breathing—there was something terrifyingly easy about it.
For a while, none of them moved. Then, softly, she asked, “Do you ever wonder how long this can last?”
Eli’s lashes lifted, his gaze hazy but sharp where it mattered. “Long enough that I’m not letting go,” he said without hesitation.
Lucian’s thumb brushed her jaw, steady and grounding. “As long as you want it to,” he murmured. His tone held no doubt, only that quiet certainty she knew he rarely gave anyone.
Kristina swallowed, her smile turning fragile at the edges. “That’s a dangerous promise.”
Lucian leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers. “Then it’s the only kind worth making.”
Eli shifted, pressing a kiss to her temple, half asleep, half stubborn. “And the only kind worth keeping.”
Lucian Sinclair Estate | Dining Area
The battle for breakfast had lasted longer than it should have. Kristina had tried coaxing, reasoning, even threatening to march downstairs alone. Eli muttered about “five more minutes,” Lucian had flatly said they didn’t need the company. But in the end, stubbornness was no match for her steady persistence.
Now the three of them walked into the dining hall together, sunlight spilling across the long oak table. Ash and Vex were already seated, predictably arguing over whether the coffee was “burnt” or just “strong,” while Sebastian nursed a glass of orange juice and looked like he wished he’d chosen a quieter corner of the estate.
Kristina sat down with quiet satisfaction written across her face. “See? Not so bad,” she teased, reaching for a croissant.
Vex leaned back, smirking. “Well, well, look who finally decided to join the land of the living.”
Ash snorted. “Don’t blame them. If I had that kind of company in my room, I wouldn’t rush to breakfast either.”
Sebastian gave them all a pointed look over his glass. “Please, spare us the commentary. Some of us actually want to eat in peace.”
Kristina laughed softly, brushing her fingers against Lucian’s under the table while Eli reached across her for the butter. For once, she thought, maybe peace wasn’t impossible — at least not here, around this table, with them.
The chatter around the table had finally found a rhythm—Vex making some wild claim about Swiss coffee being a war crime, Ash rolling his eyes, Sebastian muttering into his orange juice, and Kristina letting their voices wash over her like harmless background noise. She reached for another croissant, buttering it with an absent sort of ease, when the heavy oak doors at the far end of the hall swung open.
Footsteps echoed against the polished floor, firm and deliberate. Maxim.
Even before his figure fully appeared in the morning light, Kristina’s stomach gave a nervous twist. Eli’s hand froze on the butter knife, his jaw tightening. Lucian’s gaze cut instinctively toward the entrance, his calm exterior holding steady.
Ash and Vex, uncharacteristically, fell silent mid-argument. Sebastian set down his glass, spine straightening as if he’d just been caught somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.
Maxim strode across the open space with a brightness that didn’t belong to the undercurrents at the table. His presence was always welcome here—respected, even—but today it landed differently, pressing against the air in a way that none of them had prepared for.
“Well,” he said, his voice carrying with that familiar warmth. His eyes landed on Kristina first, and his smile—unaware, genuine—softened his face. “I heard you came back yesterday from your trip. Just wanted to see how my baby is doing.”
The words, affectionate and simple, seemed to scrape across the silence that followed. Kristina’s throat tightened, her pulse thudding in a rhythm that betrayed her. Eli’s fingers flexed against the table, gripping harder than he should. Lucian didn’t move, didn’t flinch, but the steady set of his shoulders told a story all its own.
Ash coughed into his fist, glancing sidelong at Vex as though waiting for him to break the tension with a joke. But even Vex—never one to waste a perfectly good opportunity—only tilted his head and watched the scene with a curious, almost predatory interest.
Kristina forced a smile, soft but measured. “I’m fine, Papa,” she said, her voice even, careful not to crack under the weight pressing in from all sides.
Maxim’s grin only widened, his steps bringing him closer to the table. He was still oblivious to the shifting currents, to the way every pair of eyes followed the exchange, some with tension, some with thinly veiled discomfort.
For a moment, Kristina wished she could slip back into that innocence too—into the simplicity of just being someone’s “baby” instead of standing in this tangled web of truths and silences.
But that moment passed as quickly as it came.
The calm around them held steady, but beneath it, the tides were already turning.
—To be continued.
