Chapter 2

I got home after dark.

The elevator climbed fast, the numbers flashing upward. When the door opened, the apartment was lit. Victoria stood in front of the entryway mirror, coat on, hair perfectly in place.

She looked relaxed—like she was heading out to an ordinary dinner.

I set my briefcase on the cabinet and kept my voice even. “Don’t go out. We’re going in for maintenance tonight.”

She didn’t turn around. She only touched up her lipstick, as if she’d heard a reminder too familiar to bother answering. “I have plans.”

“I know you do.” I stopped a step behind her, close enough to talk, far enough not to look like I was blocking her. “Plans can change. Maintenance can’t.”

She finally faced me. Her eyes flicked from my collar to the folder in my hand, irritation settling on her expression like it belonged there. “Leon, I’m fine. Don’t manage me like you always do.”

The way she bit down on the word manage made every warning I’d ever given sound like control.

She lifted a hand to the doorknob, ready to end the conversation with one motion. “There’s a get-together. I don’t want to be late.”

I didn’t grab the door. I didn’t raise my voice. I simply made it more direct. “This isn’t about the party. It’s about you. Your report shows something’s wrong.”

Victoria gave a soft laugh, like I’d tried an outdated scare tactic. “You always do this—turn everything into ‘something’s wrong.’ This body is stronger than any normal human.”

“Stronger doesn’t mean it doesn’t wear down,” I said. “What have you been doing lately?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

I waited two seconds, then shifted from the subject she could dodge to the one she couldn’t. Because if I didn’t lay the cards on the table, she’d keep hiding behind busy and pushing everything away.

“I also know about you and Blake.”

Her fingers paused on the doorknob. Only for a moment. Then she slid right back into that careless ease. “What are you talking about?”

“I know,” I said, and didn’t bother repeating myself.

Her eyes sharpened instantly. “Here you go again. Paranoia… Don’t you feel disgusting? You’re so boring you need this kind of thing just to prove you still matter.”

“I’m not interested in proving anything.” I set the folder on the coffee table, opened it, and pushed it toward her. “I just need you to stop lying. Including to yourself.”

Victoria walked over, glanced down, and her smile turned colder. “You really came prepared.”

I pulled a few pages out and tossed them onto the table so they fanned open—photos, chat screenshots, the itinerary.

But I didn’t dwell on the cheating. I lifted the inspection report. “Your systems are already showing problems. Abnormal joint wear. Cooling warnings. I told you to take care of your body, but you—”

She froze for a beat, then lifted her chin as if I’d insulted her. “You think I’m going to believe that? This is just an excuse to keep me here, to make me follow your schedule.”

She grabbed the report and flipped through it, rough enough it looked like she wanted to tear it.

Then her gaze landed on one photo—her and Blake outside a hotel entrance, timestamp clear as day.

Her fingertip stopped on it. Her face shifted for half a second, then she slapped the paper back down. “So you really did stalk me.”

“It’s not stalking,” I corrected. “I had to confirm what you were doing. Your condition’s been getting worse and you wouldn’t tell me anything. I had to find out myself. That’s how I learned you’ve been doing dangerous extreme sports—”

“Listen to yourself.” She stared at me, voice dripping with contempt. “Every sentence is you making excuses. It doesn’t change the fact you paid people to dig into my life. You’re a disappointment.”

I took a slow breath, then pointed at the photo. “You’re the disappointment.”

She opened her mouth to say something—then the doorbell rang.

Short. Impatient. Like someone was urging her to hurry.

Victoria didn’t even ask who it was. She went straight to the door. When it opened, Blake Walker stood there in a light jacket, smiling like he belonged in this hallway.

“Wow,” he said, looking past her into the apartment, his eyes landing on me. “Tense in here.” Then to Victoria: “The car’s downstairs. We should go.”

He deliberately ignored me, like he was picking up something he’d already claimed.

I stepped to the doorway, staying inside so he couldn’t cross the threshold. “Wait outside. We’re discussing private matters.”

Blake raised his brows and took a half step closer, leaning his shoulder against the frame. “Relax, man. She has her own life. Don’t be the roadblock.”

As he spoke, he lifted a hand and patted my shoulder like we were buddies. It wasn’t hard—but it was a line.

I caught his wrist, twisted it outward, and drove him back into the hallway wall.

Clean movement. No wasted force. Just enough to make it clear whose home this was.

“Don’t touch me,” I said. “And don’t perform in my house.”

Blake’s smile faltered. A flash of irritation crossed his eyes.

He tried to push back—and realized he couldn’t move.

Then a stronger force hit from the side.

Victoria moved.

Not with a human’s strength.

She grabbed my arm and yanked in the opposite direction. My balance snapped away and my back slammed into the edge of the coffee table. A glass rattled; water splashed out.

Before I could reset, she wrenched my arm behind me and pinned me down onto the table. My face pressed against the scattered photos—against the one of her kissing Blake. The disgust hit fast and sharp.

She looked down at me. No hesitation in her eyes. “I stopped being the woman who needed you to save her a long time ago.”

She released me and smoothed her sleeve and collar like she’d just adjusted a piece of jewelry.

I stood up, forcing my breathing steady. “You’re right. You don’t need me to save you.”

Victoria gave a cold laugh. “Finally figured it out?”

I looked at her. “Starting today, I’m not scheduling your maintenance. I’m not paying a single dollar of your repairs. And I’m not giving you any priority access or special channels. Any choice you make, you carry the consequences. We’re… done.”

It was like she’d been waiting for those words.

She didn’t panic. If anything, she lifted her chin as if she’d been freed. “Good. Finally. Freedom.”

Blake straightened off the wall, rubbing his wrist. He put that easy grin back on. “You heard her.”

Victoria hooked her arm through his, like she was claiming a victory.

When she walked past me, her steps were steady. She didn’t even glance at the report.

I didn’t stop her.

The door closed with a soft click. The apartment fell silent except for the papers spread across the coffee table, the cold white light catching the red warning line on the maintenance report.