Signed in Blood: The Price of Secrets

Pt~18 Something in the Air

ADRIAN'S POV

On my way back to the office building, with Leo and Ronan in the backseat, something about Ronan's silence gnawed at me. He wasn't just quiet—he was withdrawn, his gaze locked somewhere beyond the window, as though chasing a thought that refused to be caught. The usual sharp composure on his face had softened, edged with unease. There was a stillness in him that didn't belong.

"Ms. Hawthorne seemed extremely composed for what was told to her. I did not expect this day to go as such," Leo remarked, offering a slight, almost nervous smile. "For the way he talks and smiles, her dad is one dangerous man, Ronan."

Ronan didn't respond. He didn't even glance our way. Instead, he sighed—a low, steady exhale that carried more weight than words. He leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes as though willing the world to pause.

"She doesn't know what she's walking into," he murmured, voice calm but hollow. "I feel guilty for it... but I don't regret it. Not a bit."

The air in the car felt heavier after that. I tried to cut through the tension.

"The guy... Axel, was it?"

Leo gave a small nod.

"He seemed awfully close to Ms. Hawthorne. Are they together or something, maybe?" I asked. Not that it mattered. I just couldn't bring myself to like the guy. There was something about his presence—his gaze had that unnerving weight, like he was seeing through your history. He reminded me of Ronan, but somehow more... unfiltered. No wonder the two got along.

"He's a good guy," Ronan finally said, meeting my eyes through the rearview mirror. "He pulled me out of a dark place."

Leo leaned forward, concern lacing his tone. "To be fair, he did technically spy on you, Ronan. He has his own priorities—and some of them do align against you. Worst case scenario, you could be disowned from Illumination Corp."

Silence settled in again. Only the rhythmic ticking of the indicator filled the car, a soft metronome for the unspoken thoughts hanging in the air. There was trust between us—deep and unwavering—but even trust has shadows.

AXEL'S POV

I paced the small hotel room, both bags secured and lined up against the wall.The headlines exploded with Lilith's name and Illumination Corp's blemished image. The world outside was burning. Inside, I was waiting.

Henry had called earlier, checking on Lilith. The media had latched onto the scandal like vultures, and the once-untouchable corporation had taken a three percent dip in stock value. Most of the public sided with Lilith—though some media houses, bankrolled by Cross, spun narratives in his favor. But this stunt—it was a spark. And the fire was just beginning.

"This is good... this is all good," i heard Lilith,as I heard footsteps outside. A keycard clicked. I opened the door.

Lilith stood there, disheveled, her hair a mess and a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her eyes were red, puffy, but there was a flicker of triumph in them.

"I did it," she said, her voice hoarse but sure.

Maria followed her in, dropping a thick file of papers on the bed before collapsing beside Lilith. "No legal advice, no formal bail, no court summons—none of it. The whole thing was a staged performance, and we were the actors. For the first time, my job felt... obsolete."

She laid back, her purse tumbling to the floor.

"We played well," I told them. But Lilith seemed distant, her mind somewhere else, tangled in thoughts she hadn't voiced yet.

"Axel, we need to get Dad somewhere safe," she said, her voice trembling. "Call Henry. I need to talk to him.Mr.Cross knew everyone met ther-"

"Lilith... he knows," I replied, my tone firm, grounding. I stepped forward and gently took her shoulders. "You need to focus on your next move. Save yourself. This worked because you took the first swing."

"But without Da—"

Her voice cracked, anger bleeding through.

"No. You can't afford to give them the next move. This is bigger than just your career. It's your life. It's Maria's, mine, every life tied to yours."

I sat down beside her. She was shaken, but she had to understand. The softness in her needed to harden now. There was no other way.

She let out a long breath, her walls slowly being rebuilt.

"Can you find some information about Sierra?" Her voice changed—quiet, but charged. "And get me in contact with Caleb."

Maria stood up, already reaching for her phone. "I tried to keep this from Caleb... though I doubt he's unaware at this point. Noah knows."

Lilith tied her hair back, fingers trembling, and picked up her phone. "That's exactly who you weren't supposed to keep it from," she said, already typing.

And just like that, she was back—fractured, maybe. But focused.

FLASHBACK 

It was raining the first time Noah accidentally spilled coffee on one of the archived documents. A blur of panic, stammered apologies, and soggy paper later, he was sure he'd be fired. But Nicolai—ever the calm, composed assistant with silvered temples and a voice smoother than aged scotch—simply sighed, pulled out a cloth, and said, "There are worse sins in the world, Noah. Next time, carry a lid."

Noah had blinked. That was it? No lecture?

From then on, Nicolai had taken to calling him "Mr. Spill" whenever he handed him a file—always with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. But over time, it turned into something else. Nicolai started inviting him to late-night tea runs when the office was quiet, and they would sit under the soft hum of the hallway lights talking about everything from work politics to life dreams.

Nicolai, despite being the Chairwoman's oldest and most trusted aide, never spoke like he was above Noah. He offered advice in riddles, listened like an older brother, and scolded only when necessary—and always with a fondness that reminded Noah of home,something that he didn't ever have really.

Home was something he shared with Caleb,with his parents,the sweet old couple who kept him in the best way a foster child could dream of.But,it was shared,he didn't have it,he borrowed it,he felt in debt as always and though he loved his brother Caleb and Mr and Mrs. Holt,he didn't feel small or indebted to Nicolai.

Once, when Noah was sick and too proud to admit it with Caleb out of town for work, Nicolai had dropped by his apartment with soup and medicine. "Being dependable doesn't mean being invincible," he'd said, adjusting the blankets on Noah's bed.

It wasn't just mentorship—it was kinship. Like two stars in different stages of their journey, orbiting the same space, both learning to glow brighter in their own way.

Noah never forgot that. And Nicolai never treated him like he was meant to. He treated him like someone who would someday lead.

And Noah... he started to believe it too.