Chapter 35: Hidden information
Christian had not planned to meet him that night.
Not yet. Not like that.
He’d intended to wait—measured, calculated, patient as ever—until the party had softened the boy’s defenses, until the wine had dulled the shine of vigilance in his eyes, until the crowd had drained enough of him that anything familiar, anything steady, might feel like gravity.
It was meant to be later.
After the speeches. After the toasts. After Lucas had smiled himself raw and nodded through the last well-placed insult disguised as praise.
That was when Christian wanted to step in. When his voice could feel like a reprieve, not a threat. When he could feel like an answer.
But fate, or whatever it was that passed for it in these halls, had always had a penchant for drama. For shadows slipping through open doors, for glances caught too early, for corners turned before names could be rehearsed.
And so—there he was.
Lucas.
He had expected beauty. He had prepared for it.
Misty had always hinted, always guarded him like a locked box no one could touch without payment, always spoke of him with that breathless blend of annoyance and pride that only meant one thing: irreplaceable asset.
Still, he hadn’t expected this.