EPISODE 16
ELIAS
I didn’t move.
I couldn’t.
Not when she walked past me like that.
Not when she didn’t even hesitate.
Not when she chose him.
The sound of her footsteps faded slowly, each step landing like a quiet удар against my chest—steady, deliberate, final.
Gone.
Again.
My jaw tightened, my hand still half-raised from where it had held hers moments ago.
Slowly, my fingers curled into a fist.
I could still feel it.
The warmth.
The softness.
The way she’d looked at me.
And then—
Nothing.
I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face.
Control.
Get it together.
But the image wouldn’t leave.
Him.
Standing beside her.
Calm.
Grounded.
Like he belonged there.
Like he understood her.
Like he could give her something I—
No. Absolutely not.
“Elias.”
Lucia’s voice cut in.
I didn’t look at her.
Didn’t respond.
Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d keep my composure.
“She’s dramatic,” Lucia continued lightly.
“You know how she is. Always making a scene—”
I turned before she could finish.
My hand closed around her wrist.
Firm.
Not enough to hurt.
But enough to stop her.
Her breath caught.
“Elias—”
“What,” I said slowly, my voice low and controlled, “did you just do?”
Her eyes flickered.
Just for a second.
Then the smirk returned.
“I don’t know what you—”
“Don’t.”
Quiet.
Sharp.
Final.
Her smile faltered.
Good.
“You touched her,” I said.
Not a question.
Lucia tilted her head.
“It was an accident—”
“No, it wasn’t.”
Silence.
Tight.
Heavy.
“You don’t get to go near her,” I continued, stepping closer.
“You don’t get to touch her. You don’t get to speak to her unless she speaks to you first.”
Her lips parted slightly, surprise slipping through.
“And you definitely don’t get to put your hands on her like that again.”
Lucia let out a soft laugh, but it lacked its usual confidence.
“Since when do you care this much?”
I held her gaze.
Unblinking.
Cold.
“Try it again,” I said quietly, “and I won’t be this calm.”
That landed.
I saw it.
The shift.
“You’re choosing her?” she asked.
“I’m setting boundaries.”
“With me?”
“With everyone.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Including your mother?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Lucia studied me, something calculating settling behind her gaze again.
“You’ve changed.”
“No,” I said.
“I’ve just stopped ignoring what’s in front of me.”
“And what is that?”
I didn’t answer.
Because my gaze had already drifted—
To where Althea had disappeared.
And even though she wasn’t there anymore—
I could still feel her.
That pull.
That absence.
Worse now than when she was standing right in front of me.
Because now— he was with her.
Lucia followed my gaze.
And this time, she understood.
Her lips curved slightly.
“So that’s how it is.”
“If you’re planning something,” I said evenly, “stop.”
She smiled.
“I don’t plan.”
Lie.
“I respond.”
I held her gaze for a second longer, then stepped back.
Done.
But not done with what I was feeling.
Not even close.
⸻
THE BAR
The glass hit the counter harder than it should have.
“Another.”
The bartender didn’t question it.
Didn’t hesitate.
Good.
Because I wasn’t in the mood for conversation.
The burn of whiskey slid down my throat, sharp and familiar, but it did nothing to dull the edge sitting under my skin.
If anything— it made everything clearer.
Her.
Him.
That moment.
The way she said his name.
The way he said hers.
“Althea.”
My grip tightened around the glass.
Yeah.
That.
That was the problem.
“Damn,” a voice drawled beside me.
Lucian.
Of course.
I didn’t look at him.
“Didn’t think I’d see the day,” he continued, sliding onto the stool next to me.
“Elias Laurent… drinking like a man who just got replaced.”
I shot him a glare.
Slow.
Sharp.
Unimpressed.
He grinned.
“Ah. There it is. I missed that look.”
“Say what you came to say,” I muttered.
“Oh, I plan to.”
He leaned back slightly, completely at ease—too at ease.
“The doctor friend?” he said casually.
“Adrian, right?”
I didn’t respond.
Didn’t need to.
Lucian took that as permission.
“He’s good.”
Silence.
“He’s very good.”
My jaw tightened.
Lucian continued, clearly enjoying himself now.
“Tall. Calm. That quiet confidence thing going on? Women eat that up.”
I turned slightly, my gaze cold.
“Finish your point.”
“Oh, I haven’t even started,” he said, smirking.
“You should’ve seen him outside.”
But I stayed still.
Controlled.
“Everyone likes him,” Lucian added.
“And I mean everyone.”
He paused deliberately.
Then—
“Even Mira.”
That got a reaction.
A small one.
But enough.
My eyes narrowed.
Lucian laughed.
“Yeah. I know. That surprised me too.”
Before I could respond—
Ryan slid into the seat on my other side, a glass already in hand.
“I leave for ten minutes,” he said, amused, “and you’re already spiraling?”
“I’m not spiraling,” I said flatly.
Ryan chuckled.
Lucian didn’t even try to hide his grin.
“He is.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
Ryan took a slow sip of his drink, watching me over the rim of the glass like he already knew the answer.
Then, casually—
“Someone’s got competition.”
Lucian snorted.
I shot him a glare.
He raised both hands slightly.
“Hey, not my words.”
Ryan’s lips curved into a subtle smile, his tone quieter now.
“You saw it too.”
I didn’t respond.
Didn’t need to.
Because yeah.
I saw it.
The way she looked at him.
The way she leaned toward him.
The way she didn’t fight his presence.
That wasn’t nothing.
That was—
Dangerous.
I lifted my glass, the rim brushing against my lips as I spoke quietly—
“Let him try.”
Lucian’s grin widened.
“Oh, he’s not trying.”
That made my hand pause.
Just slightly.
Ryan leaned back, watching me now with open interest.
“That’s the problem.”
Silence.
Then Lucian added, almost too casually—
“He doesn’t need to.”
That did it.
My grip tightened around the glass.
Not enough to break it.
But close.
Because that was the truth, wasn’t it?
He wasn’t forcing anything.
He wasn’t pushing.
He wasn’t demanding.
And somehow— that made him more dangerous than anyone else in that room.
Ryan chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“This is going to be fun.”
“For you, maybe,” I muttered.
Lucian leaned closer slightly, voice dropping just enough.
“For all of us.”
I didn’t respond.
Because my focus had already shifted again.
To the entrance.
To the space beyond it.
To where she was.
Still.
Even now.
And the thought settled in my chest—
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Unwelcome.
This wasn’t just jealousy.
This wasn’t just irritation.
This wasn’t something I could brush off or control or ignore.
No. This— was a problem.
A real one.
And for the first time in a long time—
I didn’t know how to fix it.