The meeting room emptied in stages, voices fading into the corridor until only the quiet hum of the building remained. Tasks had been assigned, timelines locked in, and the weight of tomorrow hung over everyone who had walked out. Kai didn't linger. He gathered his tablet and stepped away to deliver a direct report, his pace efficient, his tone already shifting into something more formal as he connected with Ethan's father.
"The plan is in motion," Kai said, summarizing with precision. "All teams briefed. Execution scheduled for tomorrow. No leaks."
On the other end, the response came measured, almost satisfied. "Good," Ethan's father replied. "He handles pressure well. He's good at games like this… very much like me."
Unbeknownst to them, just outside the partially closed door, Ethan Devereaux paused mid-step. He hadn't intended to listen, but the words reached him anyway. Like me.
His hand tightened at his side, fingers curling slowly into a fist.
There was no pride in that comparison.
Only resistance.
Only something heavy and unwanted settling deeper inside him.
He didn't want to be like that. Didn't want to become a reflection of the man who had shaped his life through control and fear. But the truth remained—every decision, every command, every calculated move he made… they all traced back to that influence.
And the one chain he couldn't break—
His mother.
The silent threat that kept him exactly where his father wanted him.
Ethan exhaled slowly, forcing the tension down, locking it away where it couldn't interfere. There was no space for hesitation now. Not when everything depended on precision.
He returned to his office, sitting down without pause and pulling the files back in front of him. Page after page, detail after detail—he reviewed everything again. Routes, timings, backups. Nothing escaped his attention. If there was even a minor flaw, he would find it.
Hours passed without him noticing.
The light outside faded completely, replaced by the dim glow of the city at night. The office grew quieter, emptier, until only a few lights remained on.
By the time the clock edged past midnight, the weight of exhaustion finally began to show—not in his focus, but in the stillness of his movements.
The door opened.
Luca stepped in, leaning lightly against the frame. "It's 12," he said. "We should head back."
Ethan didn't look up immediately.
Luca continued, more directly now, "They'll start wondering. We already lied once today."
That got a response.
Ethan closed the file in front of him, finally lifting his gaze. There was a brief pause before he nodded. "Yeah."
They didn't say much more after that. There was nothing left to discuss tonight. Everything important had already been decided.
—
The drive back was quieter than usual.
The roads were nearly empty, the city settling into sleep, but inside the car, neither of them felt that calm. Luca drove, his focus steady, while Ethan sat beside him, his mind not entirely in the present.
It drifted.
Back to the penthouse.
To her.
—
When they arrived, the building was silent, the late hour wrapping everything in a still, almost fragile quiet. They stepped inside, the door closing softly behind them.
And that's when Ethan saw her.
Yuna was asleep on the couch.
Curled slightly, her legs drawn up toward her chest, her head resting against her knees in an awkward but somehow natural position, as if she had been trying to stay awake and simply couldn't anymore.
For a moment, Ethan just stood there.
Looking at her.
Taking in the small details—the way her hair fell forward, the faint tension still in her posture even in sleep.
"She was waiting," Elena said softly from nearby.
Ethan's gaze didn't move.
"She stayed up for you both," Elena continued. "But it got too late."
Luca exhaled quietly. "Did you eat?" Elena asked, turning to them.
"No," Luca replied. "Just coffee."
Elena's expression tightened immediately. "That's not enough," she said. "I'll make something. Go wash up first. You both need to take care of yourselves—you're not kids anymore."
She shook her head slightly as she turned toward the kitchen. "What will you do when there's a baby to take care of…"
Elena spokes in flow, she didn't realise that she starts speaking about baby.
Luca blinked, caught off guard. "Why are we talking about a baby right now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"We're not kids," he added quickly. "We were busy."
Elena waved it off. "Fine, fine," she muttered, already moving into the kitchen.
The moment passed.
But Ethan hadn't moved yet.
His attention was still on Yuna.
Slowly, he stepped forward, bending slightly as he carefully lifted her into his arms. She stirred faintly, her body shifting instinctively closer to him, but she didn't wake fully.
He carried her upstairs without a word, his movements steady, almost automatic.
Inside the bedroom, he placed her gently on the bed, adjusting the pillow beneath her head, pulling the blanket lightly over her.
As he turned to step back, she murmured softly, her voice barely audible.
"Mm… Ethan… don't do foolish things…"
He paused.
Just for a second.
His eyes moved back to her, something unreadable flickering in them.
Did she mean it?
Or was it just sleep talking?
He didn't know.
And he didn't ask.
Instead, he stepped away, heading into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the space as he washed up, the cold splash against his face doing little to clear his thoughts.
A few minutes later, he came back out, his expression composed again.
Without another glance, he turned and walked out of the room.
Downstairs—
Back into the night that hadn't finished with him yet.
The night air felt different once Ethan stepped outside—colder, sharper, like it carried a warning he couldn't quite name.
The city stretched out beneath the penthouse, lights flickering like distant signals, each one alive with something he couldn't control. For a moment, he stood still, letting the silence settle around him. It was the only place where the noise in his head didn't feel overwhelming.
But even here, it followed.
Like me.
His jaw tightened.
Ethan leaned forward slightly, resting his hands against the cool railing. Tomorrow's operation replayed in his mind—not as a whole, but in fragments. Entry points. Timings. Exit routes. Variables. Risks. He had gone through it all already, again and again, until there was nothing left to question.
And yet—
Something didn't sit right.
It wasn't the plan.
It was him.
He straightened slowly, pushing that thought aside before it could take shape. Doubt wasn't useful. Doubt got people hurt. That was something he had learned early—something his father had made sure he never forgot.
Behind him, the door slid open quietly.
Luca stepped out, stopping a few steps away. He didn't speak immediately, just watched Ethan for a second, reading the tension in his posture.
"You're still thinking about it," Luca said finally.
Ethan didn't deny it. "Just making sure everything holds."
Luca let out a quiet breath. "Or making sure you don't lose control."
That made Ethan glance back.
Their eyes met—brief, but enough.
Luca shrugged lightly. "You don't have to prove anything to him, you know."
A pause.
Ethan looked away again, back toward the city.
"Maybe not," he said quietly. "But I still have to finish it."
The answer wasn't reassuring.
And Luca knew it.
But he didn't push further.
Because some things, Ethan would only face alone.
And tomorrow—
There would be no room left to run from it.