A month slipped by before anyone really noticed.
Lara had started work three weeks prior, settling into the steady rhythm of the night shift while Yve continued her job hunt with little success.
The days came and went in a predictable loop of applications, interviews, and rejections.
Dylan’s routine barely changed either.
Work, home, sleep, repeat.
Yet somewhere along the way, home had transformed into something else entirely.
The apartment no longer greeted him with heavy silence.
There was usually someone waiting.
Lara was almost always gone by evening, already preparing for her night at the office, leaving Yve behind.
Without him noticing when the shift occurred, her presence had woven itself into his daily life.
While working his own hours, he still checked their locations from time to time—Lara’s occasionally, and Yve’s more often than he would ever care to admit.
By the time he walked through the door each evening, she was there.
More often than not, dinner was waiting too.
Yve’s cooking had improved considerably under Lara’s strict tutelage, losing the terrifying laboratory experiment aesthetic it once possessed.
Across the table, Yve talked enough for both of them.
Dylan listened, mostly, tossing in an occasional comment, a short question, or a gruff grunt that passed for participation.
She never seemed to mind.
The nights passed comfortably after that.
Sometimes they sat together watching television, while other evenings found them wandering the shoreline beneath the city lights, the steady crash of waves filling the spaces between their words.
On one particularly cold evening, the beach lay nearly empty.
Dylan shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and glanced sideways at Yve.
“Why d’ya like comin’ out here so much?”
The wind caught her dark hair, sending loose strands dancing across her face as she looked toward the horizon, her expression softening into something uncharacteristically gentle.
“No reason.
I just love the ocean.”
Dylan followed her gaze out toward the dark, endless water stretching into the night.
“Told ya to bring your jacket.”
Yve looked genuinely confused by the reprimand.
“I’m not cold.”
Dylan let out a short, dry laugh.
“I’ve got a jacket on and I’m still shiverin’.”
Before she could offer another argument, he shrugged out of his outer layer and draped it firmly over her shoulders.
Yve immediately reached up to pull it off.
“Believe me, I’m not cold.”
Dylan ignored the offered garment entirely, keeping his eyes forward.
“Keep it.”
“Dylan…”
“Keep it.”
The stubborn set of his jaw earned him an exasperated look, but Dylan only smirked and kept walking.
A moment later, Yve fell into step beside him, wrapped in his warmth, and neither of them mentioned it again as the waves rolled in and out beneath the moonlight.
They continued down the damp sand, the rhythmic crash of the surf filling the quiet space between them until Dylan glanced over again.
“Why not ask your uncle to get ya a job at his company?”
Yve rolled her eyes at the suggestion.
“Because I’m trying to be independent.
How is asking him for a job supposed to help?”
“Still workin’ for your own money.”
The retort was so immediate that she almost dismissed it out of hand.
Almost.
For weeks, she had thrown herself into applications, interviews, and endless rejections, entirely determined to prove she could manage on her own terms.
Asking her uncle for assistance felt dangerously close to admitting defeat.
Yet Dylan’s practical words lingered in the salt air, refusing to go away.
The breeze picked up, carrying the cool salt spray as they continued along the shoreline.
Yve’s jacket hung loosely around her shoulders, the oversized collar slipping aside to expose more of her skin to the wind, though she did not seem bothered by the chill.
Dylan noticed immediately.
He came to a halt.
Yve took another step forward before realizing he was no longer beside her, prompting her to turn back.
Dylan closed the distance, his hands catching the fabric and pulling the jacket properly over her shoulders.
He carefully adjusted the collar, then zipped it up until it sat high and secure around her neck, shutting out the wind.
Yve watched him in silence, a faint, knowing smile forming on her lips as he worked.
When he finished, Dylan gave the zipper one last practical tug before stepping back into his own space.
“You need the jacket more than me, Dylan,” she murmured softly.
Dylan glanced down at her, his expression deadpan.
“You’re thinner than me.”
Yve’s smile only grew, lingering in the quiet dark as they stood together beneath the fading light.
She let out a breath, her feet sinking slightly into the damp sand.
“Dylan…”
He turned back to face her against the dark sweep of the shore.
“What?”
“Thank you…” She offered a small, sincere smile.
“Just…
everything.”
The expression lingered on her face, making his chest tighten in a way that caught him off guard.
He shoved the strange reaction aside, watching as she turned her gaze back toward the horizon.
Yve glanced sideways at Dylan as they walked along the damp shoreline.
“Is Mia still bothering you?”
Dylan offered no answer, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead.
Yve persisted, taking a step closer.
“You really don’t want to talk about it?”
“Hm…”
Yve gave a light shrug of her shoulders.
“I get it, though.
I’ve experienced countless betrayals in my life as well…”
Dylan spared her a brief sideways look but remained silent.
Yve stepped closer to the edge of the surf, letting the foamy waves wash over her sneakers.
She wiggled her toes, watching the wet sand shift and give way beneath the water.
“Stop blaming yourself, though…
for what happened between you two.”
Dylan stopped walking and looked at her.
Yve continued tracing patterns in the surf with her foot.
“Cheating is still cheating…
no matter what angle you try to look at it.”
Dylan stared out toward the dark, endless expanse of the ocean.
“I know.”
A few heavy seconds passed between them.
“I just…” He cut himself off, jaw tightening.
Yve waited, watching him expectantly.
Dylan rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders slumping slightly.
“Should’ve seen it comin’.”
Yve frowned.
“Why?”
He shrugged, staring down at the sand.
“Don’t know.”
She studied his profile for a moment longer.
“Do you still love her?”
Dylan kept his eyes fixed on the horizon.
“No.”
Yve waited in case there was more, but when none came, she simply nodded.
“Then stop blaming yourself.”
Dylan glanced down at her, a hint of surprise in his expression.
“Hm.”
A faint smile touched Yve’s lips before she turned her attention back to the water.
For a long stretch, they walked side by side without speaking, the rhythmic crash of the waves filling the empty space.
Then Yve leaned over, bumping her shoulder playfully against Dylan’s arm.
“I know a good man when I see one, Dylan…” She looked up at him, her expression softening.
“Trust me on that.”
A subtle, genuine smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Dylan tried to look away, but the warmth in her eyes held his attention far longer than he intended.
Heat prickled the back of his neck, forcing him to turn his face back toward the ocean and pretend he had not been staring at all.
Yve smiled to herself, a quiet satisfaction settling in her chest as she continued walking beside him through the evening mist.
“I need to tell you something…”
“What?”
“The truth…
about me.”
Dylan waited, hands jammed into his pockets.
Yve drew in a heavy breath, releasing it with an audible sigh.
“You’ve been very kind to me.
It just…
it just feels wrong keeping this.”
“What is?” New chapters come out on g.com first.
Yve straightened her posture, turning to face him directly.
Her eyes locked onto his, completely devoid of their usual playful hesitation.
She clenched her fist at her side.
The decision had been made, and the sheer force of her will radiated right through the night air as she prepared to lay her secret bare.
“I’m a…”
The sharp jingle of Dylan’s cell phone tore through the dark.
Yve froze mid-word.
Dylan glanced down at the screen in his pocket, making no move to fish it out.
He simply let the call ring until the line went dead, then shifted his gaze back to her.
“What is it?”
Yve gathered herself, drawing on her courage for a second attempt.
“I’m a…”
The phone rang again.
A sharp curse slipped past her lips.
She rolled her eyes toward the sky, kicked a spray of sand across the beach, and threw her hands up in defeat.
“Fuck…
come on.
I’ll tell you next time.
Just answer that phone.”
She spun around and marched off toward the parking lot.
Dylan stood alone on the shore, watching her retreat with a heavy knot of confusion settling in his chest.
~~~
The next morning arrived far too early for Lara.
Yve found her sprawled across the bed, looking as though she had only just made it home before collapsing from sheer exhaustion.
“You don’t have work?”
Lara cracked one eye open, her voice muffled by the pillow.
“It’s the weekend.
My break’s every weekend.
I told you that.”
“Oh.” Yve paused.
“Right.”
Lara let her eyelids fall shut again.
“Where are you going?”
“To see my uncle,” Yve said, adjusting her bag over her shoulder as she headed for the door.
“I’m going to ask him for a job.
I’m tired of running around town and getting rejected.”
Lara responded with a tired nod from the mattress.
“Alright.
Good luck.”
A brief silence settled between them before Yve offered another update.
“Dylan won’t be home until midnight.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Lara waved a hand dismissively without opening her eyes.
“He told me.
Something about accompanying a director.
Their flight leaves around eight, I think.”
“That’s what he said.”
Lara mumbled something that sounded vaguely supportive before sinking deeper into the blankets.
Yve could not help smiling at the display.
“Well, I gotta go.
Bye.”
Lara answered with little more than a sleepy grunt.
By the time Yve stepped outside, the morning air felt crisp against her skin.
Waiting at the curb was the sleek limousine Darnell had sent, its polished exterior drawing far more attention from passing pedestrians than she would have preferred.
With a resigned sigh, she climbed inside and let the driver pull away from the apartment.
~~~
Yve sank into the leather chair across from Darnell’s desk and immediately regretted coming.
The office occupied the top floor of the high-rise, its floor-to-ceiling glass windows offering a sweeping view of the city below.
Darnell had canceled his morning meetings the moment she called, and now all of that intimidating attention was directed squarely at her.
Which was precisely the problem.
Yve sighed, staring down at the polished surface of the mahogany desk.
Darnell simply watched her.
There was a knowing amusement in his eyes, the sort reserved for someone who had seen the exact same stubbornness play out countless times before.
Minutes ticked past in silence.
Finally, Darnell leaned back in his chair.
“I didn’t cancel my appointments just to watch you sit there and think.”
Yve shot him a sharp look.
Darnell chuckled, which only fueled her annoyance.
After another moment of internal debate, she straightened her posture in the seat.
“I’m having a hard time finding a job.”
Darnell nodded for her to continue.
“I keep getting rejected.” Her frustration surfaced immediately.
“They keep saying I’m inexperienced.
Can you even imagine how ridiculous that sounds?
I’ve spent over two centuries learning things.”
Once she started talking, she could not seem to stop.
The next few minutes dissolved into a steady stream of complaints about applications, interviews, demanding employers, and the infuriating requirement of having experience just to gain experience.
Through it all, Darnell listened with remarkable patience, or perhaps sheer amusement.
By the time she finally ran out of grievances, Yve had slumped back into the chair in defeat.
Darnell folded his hands together over his desk.
“Why do you want a job anyway?
Just use the card I gave you.”
Yve looked away, her jaw tightening.
“I tore it up.”
Darnell closed his eyes briefly, exhaling a slow breath.
Somehow, he had expected that exact answer.
“Of course you did.”
Yve chose not to respond.
A comfortable, heavy silence settled between them until Darnell tilted his head.
“So.
What exactly do you want me to do?”
The question instantly put her back on the defensive.
She bit her lower lip and avoided his gaze, though Darnell already knew what was coming.
Judging by the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, he was enjoying this far more than he should have.
“You really gonna make me say it?”
“Say what?”
“You know what.”
“I don’t.”
Yve groaned, throwing her head back.
“Oh, c’mon.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
The smile on Darnell’s face widened.
Yve stared at him in absolute disbelief.
“I can’t believe you’re making me say this.”
“Say what?”
“You’re the worst.”
Darnell laughed aloud.
Defeated, Yve buried her face in her hands for a moment before finally giving in.
“Help me get a job.” The words tumbled out in one reluctant rush.
She lowered her hands, pointing an accusing finger straight at him.
“I want one.”
Darnell’s smile widened instantly, looking entirely too satisfied for her liking.
“I didn’t come here just to have a human take care of me and pay for everything I need,” Yve folded her arms, sinking deeper into the leather with a pout.
“I want to buy Dylan’s groceries with my own money.”
She let out a dramatic sigh.
“Back home, I’m worth twenty-eight billion pearls.
Why can’t I just use that here?”
That finally drew a genuine laugh from Darnell.
“You know why.”
“Please.” Yve fixed him with the pleading look that had gotten her out of trouble more times than either of them could count.
“Help me get a job.”
Darnell studied her for a long beat before nodding.
“How about here?”
Yve blinked, caught off guard.
“Hm?”
“I’ll be your employer.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
“Really?”
“Really.” This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
“Just like that?”
“Not exactly.” A knowing smile touched his lips.
“How about we start with an interview?”
Yve stared at him.
“Here?
Right now?”
“You want to be independent,” Darnell leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk.
“Can’t give you special treatment, can I?”
Yve considered the logic for a moment before giving a stiff nod.
“Fair point.”
She pulled her chair closer to the desk, instantly straightening her posture to look far more serious than she had a second earlier.
“Go ahead.”
Darnell folded his hands together.
“Alright then.
Tell me about yourself.”
Yve groaned so dramatically it echoed through the spacious office.
“Oh, c’mon.”
The carefully prepared posture vanished as she slumped back into the leather.
“Seriously?
You practically raised me.”
Darnell’s amusement only grew.
“It’s part of the process.”
Yve narrowed her eyes, pointing an accusing finger at him again.
“What process?
Annoying me?”
Darnell reached out and pressed a button on his desk console.
“Victor, please come in.”
A moment later, the heavy office door clicked open and the secretary stepped inside, calm and composed.
Darnell gestured toward Yve.
“Show her around the building.
Put her wherever she likes.”
Victor blinked, casting a cautious look at the younger woman.
“For a job?”
Darnell nodded once.
Yve was already on her feet, bright and eager.
“Thanks, Darnell.
I’ll do a great job.”
A faint, fond smile touched Darnell’s face.
“I know you will.”
Before they could turn to leave, Victor paused, his expression turning grave as he looked toward his boss.
“Sir, I sent you a link.
Please check it.”
Darnell frowned, his relaxed demeanor shifting.
“What’s it about?”
Victor’s gaze flickered briefly toward Yve, remaining entirely silent.
That was answer enough.
Darnell understood immediately.
His jaw tightening as he gave a sharp nod.
A few moments later, Victor was leading Yve out through the double doors, quietly explaining departments and workspaces while Darnell remained behind to face whatever crisis had just landed on his desk.
As soon as the heavy oak door clicked shut, Darnell tapped the screen to open the attached link.
A local news broadcast filled the display.
“Authorities are searching for Mark Reynolds, who escaped from state custody late Thursday evening,” the anchor reported, her voice clipped and urgent.
“According to officials, Reynolds was discovered missing during a routine headcount.
Law enforcement agencies have launched a coordinated search operation and are urging members of the public not to approach the fugitive if spotted.”
B-roll footage flashed across the monitor, showing officers swarming the prison yard while grainy security camera footage captured a desperate figure scaling a towering perimeter fence under the cover of darkness.
“Anyone with information regarding his whereabouts is encouraged to contact authorities immediately.”
The report droned on, but Darnell had already stopped listening.
The warm, amused demeanor from moments before vanished entirely, replaced by a chilling stillness.
Beneath the harsh office lights, his eyes narrowed into razor-thin slits, a cold, predatory fury waking behind them.
Absolute silence settled over the top-floor suite.
Then the heavy mahogany desk trembled.
Darnell had not realized how tightly his fist had clenched until the polished wood beneath his knuckles began to rattle under the pressure.
He reached out, snatched up his desk phone, and punched a speed dial.
The line connected instantly.
“Find him.”
Victor’s voice came through the receiver, steady and composed.
“Already ordered our men to look for him, sir.”
Darnell’s gaze remained locked on the paused image of Mark Reynolds on the monitor.
“Good.” Darnell ended the call without another word, his jaw set in stone.
~~~
It took nearly three hours to tour Darnell’s massive estate and the surrounding facilities.
By the end of the excursion, Yve had learned that the neighboring buildings belonged to her uncle as well, forming a sprawling, interconnected compound.
“Can’t believe there are so many pools here,” she remarked as they crossed another sunlit courtyard.
Victor offered a polite smile.
“Yes, Ms.
Yve.
They are primarily for sirens working long shifts who need to maintain hydration.”
Yve glanced toward a crystal-clear pool set into a private garden they had passed earlier.
“Do all the humans working for my uncle know we exist?”
“Not all of them,” Victor replied smoothly.
“Lower-level employees are kept entirely unaware.
That information is strictly limited to those who work in executive management or directly under the President.”
A hint of quiet pride entered his tone.
“Like myself.”
“Oh.” Yve considered that for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Fair enough.
Isn’t it dangerous, though?
What if a human wanders into the wrong place and sees a siren in one of those pools?”
“They won’t.” The answer came with absolute, calm certainty.
“Human employees are not permitted above the fifth floor, and the deeper sections of the compound are heavily restricted.
The surrounding commercial buildings were designed to form a physical barrier around the inner grounds.
The President purchased the entire block specifically so different races could work together without outside interference.”
Yve followed his gaze across the secure perimeter.
Just then, a winged figure swept gracefully overhead, cutting a sharp silhouette against the sky before disappearing.
“Yeah,” she murmured.
“I see.”
After a moment, she looked back at him, curiosity in her eyes.
“You don’t seem very shocked by any of this.”
Victor chuckled softly, stepping around a decorative fountain.
“At first, I certainly was.” His expression grew thoughtful.
“But it was also eye-opening.
It is a genuine honor to work for the President.”
Yve smiled warmly.
“I hope more humans end up feeling the same way.”
The smile on Victor’s face faded slightly, replaced by a shadow of past caution.
“It is difficult for many people.
We have had employees panic after learning the truth.
Some ran in terror.
Others tried to sell information to individuals willing to pay a high price for proof of non-human existence.”
He paused briefly, his stride slowing.
“The President has experienced more than a few bitter betrayals over the years.”
Yve’s expression softened, a deep, sympathetic understanding passed between them.
“I’m glad he has someone like you he can trust.”
Victor inclined his head politely in gratitude.
The conversation settled into an easy, comfortable silence as they continued their tour through the manicured grounds.
Eventually, Yve checked the time on her phone and let out a soft sigh.
“I think I’d like to go home now.
I still need to cook dinner for Lara.”
“Of course.”
The limousine was already waiting by the front gates when they reached the exit.
Victor pulled open the car door, offering a final nod.
“I will send the official details of your employment later today.”
A warm smile crossed his face.
“It’s an honor to be working with you, Ms.
Yve.”
“Likewise.”
They shook hands briefly before Yve slipped into the plush leather interior.
As the car smoothly pulled away from the curb, the sprawling compound slowly vanished behind the high security walls, hidden once more from the rest of the unsuspecting city.