Isaia: Chapter 3

Somehow, I’ve managed to tear myself away from her once she disappeared into the house, lights switching off one by one. It was the strangest feeling, like I was anchored there, unable to walk away.

Every part of me was captivated by her, as if something deeper had taken hold—something I couldn’t shake. I felt trapped, mesmerized by her presence, and the thought of leaving twisted in my chest.

A quiet fear crept in that if I left, she’d disappear, like the moment would slip through my fingers and never return.

This woman fascinates me—not just because of those mismatched eyes, but because of everything I glimpsed about her tonight. It’s not something I can pinpoint, but it’s there, and I’m too curious to ignore it.

Now I’m parked in front of our family home—a sprawling mansion that practically shouts wealth and power, every inch a testament to what we’ve built.

Yet, as I sit here staring at it, all I can think about is how that tiny, unimpressive house of hers holds more charm.

More…warmth.

The kind of warmth money can’t buy. And the questions she left unanswered still tangle in my mind, unfinished business pulling me back toward her.

As I push through the door into the foyer, Alexius is the first face I see. He’s standing there with arms crossed, eyes fixed on me, and I can practically feel the weight of whatever he’s about to say before he opens his mouth.

“We have to talk.”

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, heading straight for the living room, knowing he’ll follow. When Alexius waits for you the second you step into the house, you know it’s serious.

Nicoli’s already there, perched on the edge of the sofa, his sharp eyes sizing me up as I enter.

Caelian? He’s sprawled on the couch, lazily scrolling through his phone, like this is the most boring shit he’s had to deal with all week.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” he says without looking up.

“Save it.” I throw myself into an armchair across from Nicoli. “I’m not in the mood.”

Nicoli raises an eyebrow. “When are you ever?”

I sigh, knowing what’s coming. “If you’re all about to tell me I should’ve put it up to a vote before I decided to kill the child-kidnapper motherfucker, save your breath. I’ll shoot the lot of you, too.”

Alexius shakes his head. “Actually, I was about to say you made it way too easy for that bastard.”

I shrug. “Didn’t have time for theatrics.”

Alexius narrows his eyes, studying me like he’s searching for something deeper. I hate when he does that. “What?”

He crosses his arms. “Do we have a situation?”

I raise a brow. “A situation?”

Caelian, still scrolling, doesn’t even look up. “Yeah. A situation where we might be slightly fucked, fully fucked, or so fucked we’ll never get unfucked.”

I blink, unamused. “Will I be slightly or fully fucked if I walk out now and ignore whatever the hell you’re talking about?”

Caelian’s smirk widens, but his eyes stay glued to his phone. “Somewhere in between.”

“Who’s the girl?” Alexius cuts in.

“I don’t know,” I reply, trying to play it cool. “Ask Maximo. He’s the one who took the kid away.”

“Not that girl,” Alexius says, his gaze tightening. “The other one.”

“What other⁠—”

Maximo strolls in right then, and the pieces click.

I glare at him. “You saw?”

He crosses his arms and leans against the wall right next to a landscape painting—one of those overly serene, pastel scenes with calm lakes and mountains. Total bullshit.

The painting says ‘relax,’ but Maximo? He’s about as relaxing as a gun to the head.

He shrugs. “What can I say? You weren’t exactly subtle.”

“Her dog ran into me and I got tangled in its leash. What was I supposed to do, get knocked over in slow motion? Maybe throw in a graceful pirouette.” I snort. “Next time I’ll make sure I fall like an action hero—real subtle.”

Maximo grins. “Would’ve made my day.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Alexius presses, cutting through the banter. “Who is she?”

“Just a girl with a dog,” I say, and Caelian snorts.

“Sure. Because people just ‘run into’ us all the time, right? Must be our magnetic personalities.”

“Hey, sometimes they do,” I retort. “Some idiot walked right into me last week at some shitty bar downtown.”

Nicoli raises a brow. “And you didn’t shoot him?”

“Of course not.”

Caelian’s gaze snaps in my direction. “What the fuck were you doing at a shitty bar downtown? Oh, my God, are you having some midlife crises?”

“I’m twenty-six, you dickhead.”

“Oh, of course. Yeah, I forgot you’re still a baby.”

I glare at him then turn my attention to Alexius, who is clearly unamused if the deadly scowl is anything to go by. “Her name’s Everly…something,” I say.

Nicoli frowns. “Everly? Just a random girl, huh?”

“Yes,” I snap, meeting his gaze. “You’re all acting like I brought her home.”

“That’d be a first,” Caelian quips.

“I’ve brought girls home before.”

“Yeah?” he challenges. “Who?”

I open my mouth, think for a second, then lean back and rub my fingers along my jaw. “There’s…um…there’s Melanie,” I say as if it’s my proudest moment of the entire fucking day.

“She doesn’t count.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve got an ugly-ass car, that’s why.”

“What?” I frown in question because I never got my degree in dumbass.

“Shut up,” Alexius barks. “Both of you.” He turns to face me. “So, you didn’t find her presence a little…suspicious?”

“Sure, it was suspicious,” I admit, forcing myself to sound calm. “Which is why I followed her. Happy?”

Nicoli’s eyes narrow, calculating. “Followed her, huh? And?”

“And nothing. Her life’s as boring as watching paint dry,” I say, though it’s a half-truth. “She walked her dog, went home, read a book. End of story.”

“You think she saw anything back in that alley?” Alexius’s tone takes on a dangerous edge.

“I don’t think so.”

“You think she’s working for someone?”

“From what I’ve seen tonight, I doubt it. But, if tonight was planned, everything she did afterward was part of a show.”

“Not if, brother.” Caelian scoffs. “It definitely was a show. Have you seen the crowds on the streets? People are like collision-avoidance robots. Hundreds walking in different directions on their phones, and no one bumps into anyone.”

“He’s not wrong,” Maximo adds.

“True, but she wasn’t the one who ran into me. It was her damn dog.”

“People don’t just bump into us,” Alexius says firmly. “And even if she doesn’t seem like a threat now, that doesn’t mean she’s not a problem.”

“What are you thinking?” Nicoli asks. “Cop? Spy?”

“All right, enough.” I raise a hand, cutting him off. “Yes, it was odd. Yes, I checked her out. And I don’t think she’s anything to worry about.”

“Look,” Alexius starts firmly, “we’re not saying you’re compromised. But if she turns out to be anything more than ‘just a girl,’ we can’t afford to be blindsided. Is that clear?”

I nod, the itch of something incomplete—unfinished—sinking deeper, pulling me back toward her.

“Good,” Alexius says, and something about the way he studies me suggests he’s not entirely convinced. “Then find out everything about her, and remember, no loose ends.”

Nicoli’s voice is light as he shifts, though his gaze is cold. “You think she’s boring, huh? Better make sure of that before she brings trouble to our doorstep.”

“Trust me, I will,” I say, though even now, I feel that strange, unshakable tension, like something between us was left unresolved.

“Find out everything there is to know about this woman.”

I stare at the drink in my hand, thinking of the girl sitting on her porch swing. “That’s the plan, brother. That’s the plan.”