The soft hum of Ilian Aerion's estate was a deceptive kind of calm. The faint tick of an antique clock on the wall and the distant echo of muted music from the gala downstairs seemed to lull the house into a false sense of tranquility. But Kaliah knew better. Danger wasn't always loud.
She slipped into his private office, her gloved fingers brushing against the cool brass of the doorknob as she closed it quietly behind her. The room exuded authority: a sleek mahogany desk polished to a mirror finish, shelves lined with leather-bound books that smelled faintly of aged paper and rich wood, and subtle lighting that cast shadows in all the right places. It was a space meant to intimidate and impress in equal measure.
Her dark blouse and slim trousers blended into the dim room, and her movements were as fluid as the shadows. She adjusted the comm in her ear, her brother's voice crackling through softly.
"Kay, you're inside?"
"Yes," she whispered, her voice steady despite the tight coil of nerves in her stomach. The familiar weight of adrenaline pressed against her ribs. "It's quiet, for now."
"Keep it that way," Kacey replied. There was a sharp edge to his voice, worry masked as impatience. "You've got ten minutes before the security shift changes. After that, it gets dicey."
"I'll be out before then," she assured him, moving to the desk. Her sharp blue eyes scanned the surface, taking in its pristine arrangement. Ilian's meticulous nature was evident even here; everything had its place.
She crouched by the monitor, pulling a sleek device from her pocket and attaching it to the system. The screen flickered briefly as lines of code scrolled across—Kacey's handiwork breaking through the digital defenses. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she inputted memorized commands.
"Don't get cocky," Kacey said. "Ilian isn't some corporate stiff with lax security. If he's as sharp as you say, he's probably got redundancies."
"Then let's hope you're as good as you say," she retorted, her lips twitching into a faint smile.
The device beeped softly, signaling success. Files began to load—financial records, communication logs, contracts—and Kaliah's heart quickened as she glimpsed the web of connections Ilian had built. A rush of triumph washed over her, but it didn't last long.
A soft sound—footsteps. Measured. Confident. And heading toward the office.
"Kacey," she whispered, her voice tight. "Someone's coming."
"Get out. Now," he said sharply.
"There's no time." She yanked the device free, slipping it into her pocket. Her gaze darted around the room, landing on a partially open bookshelf near the corner. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.
Moving swiftly but silently, she slipped behind it, pressing herself into the narrow space. The leather spines of the books pressed against her back, and she forced herself to breathe shallowly.
The door opened, and Ilian stepped inside.
He didn't bother turning on the lights. The faint glow from the desk lamp illuminated his silhouette—a figure carved from precision and intent. His tailored suit was impeccable, though the tie hung slightly loose, and the scar cutting through his left eyebrow seemed even sharper in the dim light. Tattoos peeked from beneath his cuffs as he adjusted his sleeves with practiced movements.
Kaliah's pulse pounded in her ears. She watched as he approached the desk, his gray eyes scanning the surface with the precision of someone who missed nothing. His fingers brushed over the glass, pausing at a faint smudge she hadn't noticed before.
"You're slipping, Clarke," he murmured, his voice low, almost thoughtful.
Her chest tightened. Was he speaking to her? Or testing the air, knowing someone was there?
He stood there for a heartbeat too long, then moved to the window. His gaze swept over the estate grounds, the faint glow of security lights illuminating the manicured gardens. The silence stretched between them, tense and unbroken.
"You're not as invisible as you think," he said, his tone calm but edged with steel.
A chill ran down her spine. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting. Did he know she was there, or was he playing a game meant to rattle anyone listening?
Ilian lingered, his reflection faint in the window's glass. Then, with a quiet exhale, he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.
Kaliah stayed frozen for several seconds after the sound of his footsteps faded down the hall. She finally stepped out from behind the bookshelf, releasing a slow, shaky breath. Her hands trembled as she wiped them down the front of her trousers, trying to steady herself.
Her gaze drifted back to the desk, the smudge glaring back at her like an accusation. She couldn't afford another mistake like this.
Pulling the device from her pocket, she ensured the data was intact. The encrypted files shimmered on the screen, a trove of secrets she and Kacey would decode later. For now, she needed to get out.
The low hum of conversation and soft strains of jazz greeted her as she re-entered the main wing. The weight of the office encounter clung to her, but she adjusted her blouse, smoothing her appearance as she slipped seamlessly back into the crowd. The laughter and clinking of glasses formed a chorus that masked the turmoil still coiled in her chest.
A server brushed past, offering a tray of champagne. She took a glass, not to drink but to blend in, letting the stem rest lightly between her fingers.
She scanned the room, seeking out any sign of Ilian. He was by the bar, speaking with two advisors, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. His laugh was soft, as though he were indulging in an inside joke. He didn't look like a man who had just walked out of his office where someone might have been hiding.
But the memory of his calm, deliberate movements burned in her mind.
Back in her room, Kaliah sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the device in her hands. The close call replayed in her mind—his voice, his presence, the smudge that had almost given her away. She couldn't shake the image of his eyes—sharp, calculating, and too knowing.
Kacey's voice crackled through her comm. "You alive?"
"Barely," she muttered, running a hand through her braids. "He almost caught me."
"Almost isn't good enough," Kacey replied, his voice tinged with worry. "What did you get?"
"Everything," she said, glancing at the screen. The list of encrypted files shimmered back at her. "But I think he suspects something."
"He probably suspects everyone," Kacey said. "Guys like him don't survive by trusting easily. Just stay sharp. You can't afford another slip-up."
Her jaw tightened. "I know."
She set the device down and walked to the window. The distant glow of the city cast long shadows across the room. But she wasn't looking at the skyline—she was replaying every glance Ilian had cast, every word he'd spoken. The feeling she couldn't quite name settled in her chest like a weight.
She wasn't sure if she had won that encounter or merely survived it.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEwOWUoSrLr
