LUCIAN
“We’ve arrived, sir.”
Great. So we were actually doing this.
My gaze drifted to the tinted window, to the garish lights screaming down at the entrance of the building like a warning. Eclipse’s Strip n Drink. Even inside the car, I could hear the bass pounding from the walls. The street outside was packed —heels clicking, laughter spilling from the mouths that have tasted too much alcohol. The bouncers stood like soldiers, tightly checking IDs and patting down anyone who seemed like a threat.
I breathed out loud in annoyance. “Can’t we just go back?”
George turned his head, one brow lifting. “Sir, with all due respect, Matt might have my head for breakfast if you don’t walk in there tonight.”
“You don’t have to drink,” he continued. “You can just sit in there for an hour and nod at whatever Matt says. Maybe even applaud once or twice. Then you can glare your way out of the building and go home.”
I gave him a slow look. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Not at all, sir.”
A small snort escaped me despite myself.
I’d been in meetings from dawn until dusk. By the time I was done, I hadn’t even bothered going home. My tie was long gone—lost somewhere between the conference room and the elevator—and my jacket lay abandoned in the backseat like it had personally offended me. Now I sat in a half-unbuttoned shirt, sleeves rolled to my elbows, tattoos exposed, hair slightly tousled. If this was my version of casual, I wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Remind me why I’m doing this again.”
“Because it’s Matt’s bachelor party. Because you’ve bailed on the last three events you were invited to. Because your mother is one conversation away from staging a full-blown rescue mission. And because,” George said, pausing for effect, “you haven’t done anything remotely selfish in years.”
Only George could say that without it sounding like an accusation.
He wasn’t just a butler. He hadn’t been for a long time. After Lena died, my mother had hired him. Said the boys and I needed help. I didn’t have the strength to argue back then as I hadn’t been expecting him to stay. He was in his mid-forties, soft-spoken and looked like he belonged in a library, not a house like mine. But he’d proven himself more capable than I’d imagined. The boys loved him. And I relied on him more than I cared to admit.
“Alright,” I muttered. “But if someone tries to make me do body shots or dance, I’m burning the building down.”
George gave a dry nod. “Understood. Total annihilation if provoked.”
I reached for the door handle, then paused when my phone buzzed in my pocket.
My mouth tugged into a small smile before I even looked at the screen.
I answered and the video call opened to Lucas’s face, nose practically pressed to the front camera, wide grin stretching from ear to ear.
“Daddy!”
“Hey, buddy,” I said, voice already softening. “How’s it going over there?”
Lucas dropped back dramatically, flipping the camera toward the ceiling before dragging it back to his face. “We’re okay. Eli got grumpy again, but I gave him my cookie so he’d stop frowning.”
I raised a brow. “You gave your cookie away?”
“Yep!” He nodded, chest puffing up proudly. “I didn’t even lick it first.”
I huffed a small laugh. “That’s progress.”
Lucas turned the phone, whispering loudly. “Lee, come on. Daddy wants to say hi.”
For a brief moment, the camera bounced around before focusing on Elias. His dark curls fell gently over his forehead, partially covering his downcast eyes as he tucked himself into the edge of the frame. His thumb hovered just near his lips before he quickly pulled it away.
“Hi, Daddy,” he whispered.
I leaned slightly forward, instinctively lowering my voice too. “Hi, baby. Did you do something fun today?”
He gave a shy nod, glancing quickly up at the camera before looking away again without saying anything else.
Lucas filled the silence immediately. “He made a dragon in art class! It looked awesome.”
I smiled again. “That so? I’d love to see it.”
Elias’s eyes flickered upward briefly. “It’s green… and has three wings.”
I smiled. “Sounds amazing.”
“Riri said dragons don’t need to follow the rules,” Elias added quietly.
I paused for a moment. I had heard them talk about this homeroom teacher but had not had the opportunity to meet her yet. It is not like Elias; he is typically very silent and closed off, so it was odd for him to sound so charmed. To hear his voice light up like that was strange, unexpected even.
There was a mix of curiosity and cautiousness swirling inside me.
“She’s right,” I replied. “Three wings is perfect.”
Elias’s lips curled, just a little. That almost-smile that always felt like a gift.
In the background, I heard my mother’s voice calling out. “Boys, time to set the table!”
“Okay!” Lucas yelled back, then looked at me again. “We talk tomorrow?”
“Sure bud,” I said gently. “Be good for Grandma and Grandpa, alright? I’ll come pick you guys soon.”
Lucas saluted dramatically. Elias gave another quiet nod.
“Love you!” Lucas shouted.
“Love you, Daddy,” Elias said, a little softer.
“Love you both.”
A moment later, the screen shifted and my mother’s face came into view. Her smile was warm.
“Lucian,”
“Mom.”
She took a moment to study me through the screen. Her eyes always searched, always knows more than I wanted her to.
“If you’re wondering about them,” she started lightly, “they’re fine. Happy, fed and just as loud as ever—well, at least Lucas is.”
I didn’t reply, just sat back, eyes flicking briefly out the window.
“Elias gave me a lecture on dragons and Lucas tried to convince me to let him drive the car. Normal day.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, gone before it fully appeared.
“You’re ‘functioning,’ right?”
I gave a noncommittal sound.
She nodded like she’d expected that. “We’ll bring them over on Sunday… unless work eats you alive before then.”
“I’m trying.” I said.
“I know,” she replied simply. “I’ll bring food. Your fridge is probably a desert.”
“It’s not empty mum,” I grumbled. “I have a house full of housekeepers and cooks.”
“Tell that to someone who cares,” she said, almost amused.
There was a pause.
“Alright then,” she said, like she wasn’t expecting anything more. “Goodnight, Lucian.”
“Night.”
The call ended.
I sat still for a second with the phone in my hand and her voice fading but not gone.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Matt step out of the club.
I let out an irritated sigh and straightened, inevitably shutting the door on everything else.
Right.
Time to be me again.
No, time to be ‘him’ again.
The version of me that feels nothing. Says just enough. Walks into a room and silences it without a word. The one they mistake for control when it's really just emptiness wrapped in charm.
The one I became the day everything I loved stopped breathing.
A mask.
A shield.
A warning.
And tonight, that version would have to do.
