Mia opened her mouth to say something, but she was abruptly cut short.
"Don't follow me."
"As if I wanted to," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Get yourself ready. You have only a week," he said with his back turned before walking away, leaving her seated there.
She stared after him for a moment, her jaw tightening.
"Urghhh! I hate this man," she snapped under her breath, her fist punching the air in frustration.
The chair scraped slightly as she shifted, still irritated.
Shortly after, a young chef approached, his steps careful, his posture straight. He gave a small bow, a polite smile fixed on his face.
"Ma'am, your meal will be served shortly. It was specially prepared for Mr. Ethan's guest."
Mia blinked, confusion flickering across her face.
"Huh? Why didn't you serve it while he was still here?" she asked, her brows knitting together.
The chef hesitated briefly before answering.
"Mr. Ethan has a distinct preference. He rarely eats. We didn't serve while he was present because he instructed us not to. The last time he tasted our food, our reviews skyrocketed. That was how we earned our three Michelin stars."
Mia tilted her head slightly.
"Oh… no wonder he's pale."
Ethan's face flashed across her mind.
"Oh please, don't appear in my head with that ghostly face," she muttered, shaking her head as if trying to physically push the thought away.
The chef froze for a second.
It wasn't the words. It was the boldness.
No one spoke about Ethan Blackwood like that.
Ever.
"Ahem…" he cleared his throat, regaining composure. "Ma'am, would you like to sit while I serve you?"
Mia paused, considering it.
Her fingers tapped lightly against the table.
Then she shook her head.
"Is there a way you can pack it for me? I won't be able to eat here," she said, a sheepish smile forming on her lips.
"Of course," he replied quickly.
He returned moments later with several neatly packed bags and handed them to her carefully.
Mia took them and almost stumbled.
"What! Does he think I'm a glutton?" she whispered under her breath.
The chef simply smiled, pretending not to hear.
Mia straightened immediately.
"I'll just take it. Thank you," she said, giving a small bow.
Balancing the packages in both hands, she hurried out of the restaurant.
Outside, the cool night air wrapped around her instantly.
Mia flagged down a taxi and slipped inside.
As the car pulled away, she rolled the window down slightly. The wind brushed against her face, cooling the tension that had been sitting heavily in her chest.
The city lights stretched endlessly, blurring past like fleeting thoughts.
For a moment, she just breathed.
Then she let out a long sigh.
—-------
Back in Mia's apartment, Maxine sat sprawled across the couch, a controller in her hands, while Claire sat opposite her, arms folded.
The atmosphere was off.
"Brother must not find out we're staying in this urban disappointment," Maxine said casually. "He'd definitely lose it."
Claire's gaze sharpened.
"Did he track your location?"
Maxine scoffed lightly.
"Nah. I wouldn't allow that. You know how impatient he can be."
"You don't take things seriously, do you?" Claire replied, her tone flat.
"I know that isn't a question," Maxine said, rolling her eyes. "I know you, Claire."
She leaned back, already focused on her game.
"Video games? Seriously?" Claire snapped.
"It is what it is, princess."
"What about the dishes? I've been doing them for a whole week!"
Claire grabbed a pillow and threw it.
Maxine caught it effortlessly with her legs.
"Let it go."
"You're impossible!" Maxine grinned.
"Missed this side of you,"she winked.
"Tch."
"Alright, alright. I'm sorry," Maxine said lazily. "I just need to unlock the next level."
She tilted her head slightly, flashing exaggerated puppy eyes.
Claire stared at her, unimpressed.
"That won't work. Get up and wash the dishes."
"Fine, fine…" Maxine raised her hands in surrender.
Then Claire suddenly stiffened.
Her gaze shifted toward the door.
"Someone's coming."
Maxine didn't even look up.
"Nah. That should be Mia."
"Mia?" Claire frowned slightly.
The doorbell rang.
Claire stood and walked toward it.
When she opened the door, Mia stood there, almost completely hidden behind a stack of packages.
"Ta-da!" she said, lowering them with a small laugh.
Claire blinked once, then stepped aside.
"Come in."
"Thank you. Good evening," Mia said warmly as she entered.
Her eyes wandered around the room.
"I didn't say this last time, but I really love your interior."
"That's Claire's work," Maxine said, walking in from the kitchen.
Claire shot her a look.
Maxine ignored it and dropped onto the couch.
Mia laughed softly, the tension in her shoulders easing.
Maxine's attention shifted to the bags immediately.
"What did you bring for us?" she asked, eyes lighting up.
"Oh… I couldn't finish it alone."
"Wow," Maxine leaned forward. "Your date must be some elite billionaire from those romance novels."
Ethan's pale face flashed across Mia's mind.
"Oh please. It's not a date," she said quickly. "And that man? Total red flag."
Maxine grinned.
"Red flags are the fun ones."
"Just like your toxic relationships," Claire added calmly.
Mia burst into laughter.
"What about your scammer prince?" Maxine shot back instantly.
"She's such a lover girl," she added, pointing at Claire.
"Oh please. Remember the love letter you wrote?" Claire fired back.
"That was the old me," Maxine said dramatically. "I've upgraded."
Claire scoffed.
"Wow… you two are crazy," Mia said, laughing. "I love it."
"We love you too," they said in unison.
"Awnn, you're both adorable."
Claire hesitated slightly.
"I'm not really a hugger… but can I?"
"Sure, you…"
Before Mia could finish, Maxine had already launched herself at her.
Claire sighed, then stepped forward and joined them.
The hug lingered longer than expected.
Warm.
Grounding.
For a brief moment, everything else faded.
"Ladies," Mia said softly, pulling back, "let's eat before it gets cold."
"Nooo," Maxine whined.
Claire dragged her away.
"Let me get drinks," Claire said, then paused, glancing at Mia. "Hope your tolerance is high."
"I'll stick to something soft," Mia replied with a smile.
"Got it."
Claire nodded and disappeared briefly into the kitchen.
Maxine had already started opening the food packs, excitement written all over her face.
Mia leaned back slightly, watching them.
For a moment, everything felt… normal.
No pressure.
Just laughter, warmth, and the soft comfort she didn't realize she needed.
But somewhere else, far from the quiet ease of that small apartment, things were far from calm.
—-----
Ethan's study room was dimly lit, the chandelier above casting a muted glow across the space.
Rows of books lined the shelves, arranged with precise order, while files were stacked neatly on the desk. Everything was exactly where it should be. Controlled.
Ethan leaned back in his chair, his chin resting against his knuckles, his eyes closed.
His phone lay on the table beside him. The screen lit up again.
Aria.
The call rang through the quiet room.
He ignored it.
The ringing stopped.
Then started again.
A faint crease formed between his brows.
Instead, Mia's face surfaced in his mind. That defiant look. That refusal to bend.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Pathetic," he muttered under his breath.
The door opened without warning.
Ethan's eyes snapped open instantly, sharp and alert.
"Oh good Lord," Sebastian exhaled dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. "You sitting alone in the dark like this. You're trying to send me to an early grave."
Ethan's gaze shifted to him slowly. Cold. Unmoved.
"Sit."
Sebastian raised both hands slightly in mock surrender before pulling out a chair and dropping into it.
"But before we start," he said, leaning forward slightly, his tone losing its playfulness, "you're getting paler. I'm scheduling an appointment tomorrow."
"I'm fine."
Sebastian stared at him.
"You've been 'fine' for months."
Silence followed.
Ethan didn't respond. He didn't argue, and he didn't agree either.
Sebastian exhaled softly, deciding not to push further.
"Alright. Business."
He leaned back slightly, one leg crossing over the other.
"Not sure if Davis and his family were wiped out. The blood on the floor wasn't enough to confirm anything."
Ethan's fingers tapped once against the desk. A quiet, deliberate sound.
"What if he escaped?" Sebastian added.
Ethan reached for the file in front of him and flipped it open. Page after page, his eyes moved quickly, scanning.
"Since there's no confirmation of death," he said calmly, "there's no immediate concern."
Sebastian tilted his head slightly.
"No body, no certainty," he murmured.
Ethan didn't respond.
"Copy that," Sebastian added.
He slid another set of documents across the table.
"I collated the reports from the past three years. Funds have been disappearing. Clean cuts. No noise. Someone's been covering their tracks carefully."
Ethan's hand paused mid-page.
"Davis?" he asked without looking up.
"Used," Sebastian replied immediately. "A bait."
Ethan's gaze lifted slightly.
"For someone else," Sebastian continued, his tone sharper now.
The room fell into silence. Heavy and intentional.
Ethan flipped another page, slower this time.
"They're hiding behind him," Sebastian added.
Ethan closed the file slowly.
"I'll look into it further," Sebastian said.
Then after a brief pause, he added, "Keep it on hold."
Sebastian frowned slightly.
"If someone orchestrated this," Ethan continued, his voice low and controlled, "they expect us to react."
His gaze lifted fully now. Sharp and calculating.
"We don't give them that."
A faint smile tugged at Sebastian's lips.
"Playing patiently now?"
Ethan didn't acknowledge it.
"They'll make another move," he said.
"And when will they do it?" Sebastian asked.
Ethan leaned back again, his expression unreadable.
"We'll see it coming."
The room fell quiet again. Only the faint hum of the air conditioner filled the space.
Then his phone buzzed once.