Lucian finished making Safe's dinner and served it on the table. Safe sat down—but his eyes caught the ring on Lucian's finger. His gaze lingered. Too long.
"Okay. I'm heading out now." Lucian dried his hands on a towel. "Good night."
He left.
Safe picked up his fork. But his eyes stayed on the door long after Lucian was gone.
***
Adrian arranged the fast food he'd bought from the mall onto a plate; two burgers and fries dipped in enough mustard and sweet chili. He placed everything on a tray, then pulled a soda can from the fridge.
"Mr. Adrian, I can help you serve that," one of the maids working on the family dinner said.
"No. It's okay."
He left the kitchen and headed upstairs.
He opened a dark room and switched on the lights. Bonita sat on her bed in pajamas, headphones over her ears, hugging her knees in the corner like a kid in timeout. Her closed eyes were swollen from crying as her head faced the ceiling.
Adrian set the tray on her table and walked over.
"Are you still shaken up?" He sat on the edge of her bed.
Bonita didn't answer.
Adrian reached over and gently removed her headphones.
Bonita flinched off the bed, startled. "What are you doing in my room?" she asked, breathless.
"I could shop with those eye bags." Adrian pointed at her face.
Bonita covered her eyes with her hands. "Just leave." She sat back down on the bed next to him.
"Are you still not going to tell me what happened?" Adrian asked.
"No," Bonita sighed. Then her swollen eyes widened when she spotted the tray. "Are those from Mama's? Can I have some?"
"No," Adrian said it quickly. Too quickly.
Bonita puffed out her lips like a cute bear. Adrian pulled out his phone and took a picture.
"I applied for your visa to Antarctica," he smirked. "The bears won't realize you're human."
Bonita smiled shyly.
That's all he needed from his sister. He didn't know what was wrong. Didn't know why she'd been depressed in her room for a week now. But he couldn't have Star unconscious and Bonita sad. He only had one heart.
"These are so good." Bonita yummed on the burgers, devouring them like she hadn't eaten in days. Which, knowing her lately, she probably hadn't.
"Only you like sweet chili on a burger," Adrian said, watching her.
Bonita looked at him. Her eyes glistened as he scrolled on his phone.
A week ago.
Bonita had walked into her mother's office like a storm cloud.
"Is being fucked by Kefas the transaction for my brother's renderings?"
Maria was speechless as disrespect radiated off her daughter like heat.
"Bonita?" Maria called out—but before she could say anything else, Bonita held up her iPad. On the screen: emails. Photos of Maria and Kefas in compromising positions. Proof of Maria sending renderings to Kefas.
Maria was astonished. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kefas had promised the platform was safe. No one could hack it. But her daughter had found out anyway.
"Cat got your tongue?" Bonita dropped the iPad on the desk.
"How could you be so cheap?" Bonita's anger was invisible but palpable. "You know, I hacked Kefas hoping I'd find proof he had something to do with Dad's disappearance. But instead, I find out you're the one behind my brother's downfall."
She stepped closer.
"You of all people know how hard Adrian works. How much effort he puts into this company. He compromised his prom. His yearly trips." Her voice rose. "Remember that trip? How he wanted to see Gensler? Can you remember it?"
Maria flinched at her shouting.
"You need to lower your voice," Maria said, teeth clenched.
"What? You're scared the employees will find out how cheap their COO is?"
"Y-you—how did you get those?" Maria palmed her face.
But Bonita wasn't done. She pulled out a small device—a size of a phone battery, with a red blinking light.
From Maria's office, you could see the Sterling Industries building. From the ground, it was a long distance. But from the sky-scraping heights of Stark Architects, you could see the whole city.
"Look over there," Bonita pointed. "I inserted a bomb in Kefas's office. One press here—" she held up the device, "—and this blink will flash a steady green light that will blow up the building."
Maria's hand flew to her mouth.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't," Bonita said, deadpan.
"Are you crazy?" Maria flew from her chair and slapped Bonita across the face.
Bonita didn't flinch. "Don't push me, Mom. I'm serious."
"You're not a murderer! There are innocent people in there!"
"You wanna bet?" Bonita's thumb hovered over the button. Maria watched—frozen—as her daughter's thumb slowly pressed down.
Then, after a long exhale, Maria realized her daughter was serious.
"You'll kill your father," she said.
Bonita froze. The device slipped from her fingers. Her face crumpled into confusion.
"What did you say?"
"Kefas has your father." Maria's voice cracked. "He threatened me. It's either my body and five of Adrian's projects—or David dies."
"You believe it?" Bonita whispered.
"I didn't at first." Maria pulled up a video on her phone. "Until he sent me this. Two years ago."
Bonita watched. Her eyes glistened. She held her mouth to muffle her cries.
"You're zoning out again." Adrian's voice pulled Bonita back to the present.
She blinked. Set the plate down on the tray and sat beside him on the bed.
"Can I ask you something?" she said.
"Anything."
"What happens when you find out one of us is betraying you?"
Adrian scoffed. "Hypothetically?" Bonita cleared her throat. "One of us? As in... my family?"
Bonita nodded.
"I don't think it's possible," Adrian paused. "But if one of you betrayed me?" He looked at the ceiling. "I'd be pretty broken up."
He narrowed his eyes at Bonita.
"Is that why you've been in your room all week? Who betrayed you?" His expression shifted. "Cassian?" he paused. "What happened between you and Tiffany?"
"No." Bonita shook her head. "Relax. It's a hypothetical question." She looked away. "And about Tiffany—I'm not the one who broke up with her because of Star."
Adrian's lips thinned. "She's not a good girlfriend," he said shortly.
***
"This never happened," Lucian said, mildly confused by the robber's audacity.
"Well, there's always a first." Lyrl shifted on his feet. "What should we do, boss?"
"Nothing."
Lyrl's blood ran cold. If Lucian was calm about being raided for the first time, it only meant fire was already at the tip of his fingers. The kind of fire that didn't warn before it burned.
Lucian's phone rang.
"Oh, Boss... Peter wants to talk to you." Lyrl answered before Lucian could respond.
"What does he want? I already disapproved the meeting." Lucian walked around the warehouse, scanning for clues. His hands were buried in his jersey pockets, but his eyes missed nothing.
"He just needs approval on the CNC mega-fabricators. They're ready for purchase tomorrow."
Lucian stopped. "What's wrong with Peter these days? Doing things at night."
He squatted down and peeked under a CNC milling machine. Dust. Shadows. And something else.
"Come here."
Lyrl approached. Lucian pointed under the machine.
"Torch here for me."
Lyrl aimed the light. Lucian's hand reached into the darkness and pulled out a small device—no bigger than a coin—with an adapter socket on it.
He inserted it into his phone, and footage popped up.
"There are cameras in here?" Lyrl was caught off guard.
"Yeah." Lucian didn't look up. "Did you want to steal from me?"
Lyrl scoffed.
"They're micro. Very undetectable." Lucian took a screenshot from the video—a masked man, caught mid-act.
"How are you going to identify someone in a mask?" Lyrl asked.
"Watch and learn, kid."
Back in the car, Lucian connected his phone to a laptop. He interlaced his fingers and stretched—multiple joints cracking in succession.
His fingers flew across the keyboard. The image was analyzed. Several lines of code ran across the screen. In five minutes, the masked intruder's image was stripped naked. Information about him—everything, even his address—popped up on the display.
Lyrl stared. "Nothing passes you, does it?" He let out a silky laugh that came out wrong.
Lucian started the engine.
"Steal from me and find out just how much passes me."
The car zoomed off into the night.
***
A guy parked a truck—the size of those abnormal ones that carry heavy loads on the highway—under the bridge. He locked it, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and walked toward a cabin.
He opened the door. Locked it behind him. Multiple locks. Then he removed his shoes and slid them to the side. He hung his jacket on a hook by the door.
He rubbed his eyes, exhausted and took a long breath.
Then something hissed.
He stopped mid-step toward the kitchen.
He recognized that hiss. A mechanical hiss.
He picked up an iron bar and crept forward, his steps as quiet as possible. His heart hitched when he saw the bedroom door—already open.
There was light in the cabin, but the bulbs were dim. A blue glow spilled from the crack of the open door.
He opened it slowly.
"Oh, come on in."
The voice came from inside. Roger froze. His mind raced—run or go in?
"Roger." The man inside called out again. "I haven't slept in a week. I need to sleep tonight. And I'm not going to miss it."
Roger pushed the door open.
And his heart dropped to his feet.
The man was Lucian.
"There you are." Lucian's voice was so soft you could lick it. He sat in a chair, legs crossed, like he owned the place. Which, in a way, he did now.
"I was wondering," Lucian continued, "how can one robber bypass my security system? I built that system for months when I was sixteen. And now you've just insulted my work. Just like that."
His tone was warm. Like a father regretting giving his child candy.
"What do you want?" Roger asked. The confidence he'd intended flew out of his mouth the moment he spoke.
"For starters?" Lucian shot Roger a devil's eye. His grin widened. "My products."
"I-I—" Roger swallowed hard. In his plan, Lucian was supposed to find out he'd been robbed tomorrow. Not twenty minutes after.
"I know someone masked—with an enhanced voice—hired you." Lucian uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. "Now. We're going to do this the easy way. You're going to give me back my products."
"I'm sorry. I can't do that."
The words were barely out of Roger's mouth before Lucian's hand tightened around his neck.
"I can't... because I already... made a drop." Roger gasped between struggles for breath.
Lucian released his grip. "Where?"
"By the bridge." Roger rubbed his neck. "Listen, I just got paid. A lot. I couldn't resist, so—"
He led Lucian to where he'd parked the truck. They opened the back.
And it was empty.
Lucian stared at the hollow space where his weapons should have been.
***
At the Stark mansion, everyone had finished dinner. But no one had left. Expressions were anxious as Darius opened the envelopes that had just been delivered.
Bonita shot a glance at her mother—who was tapping her foot nervously beneath the table. Bonita scooted closer.
"Am I David's child?" she whispered.
Maria flinched. She looked around quickly to make sure no one had heard Bonita's nonsense.
"You can't be serious," Maria said, her voice too low, her face carefully neutral.
"I'm wondering." Bonita's whisper was calm. Cold. "Since you're keeping such a big secret from Adrian, maybe you're keeping one from me too."
"Again, Maria." Darius's voice cut through the room. "We don't question your loyalty to David. We just need to be precise."
He unwrapped the papers. His expression was unreadable.
"What does it say?" Alaric was impatient.
"Star is not related to us."
Darius passed the paper around. Adrian was the only one who looked pleased. He'd already asked Lazarus to run separate tests at MediPrivate on Star's samples. The results had come back negative hours ago.
But for everyone else—except Maria—worry lingered. Why had the mantle chosen Star over Bonita?
That question, at least, would be answered today.
"So the twenty-five percent belongs to Bonita?" Alaric asked. It was more a statement than a question.
"Let's find out."
Darius unwrapped the second paper. His expression told everything.
"It's a match."
Relief flooded the room. Sighs were released. Shoulders relaxed.
"But why did the mantle choose Star?" Christine chimed in.
"It doesn't matter." St. Stark's voice was calm, final. "The mantle saves. It keeps one healthy. Perhaps because Star was dying, it helped save her life." He paused. "It's just my theory. I've also never seen it choose someone outside our bloodline."
He stood and moved toward the throne chair.
"Come, child."
Bonita looked at Adrian. He gave her a proud nod. She stood and sat on the throne chair.
St. Stark took out the mantle and raised it, unwrapping. He frowned slightly—it seemed lighter than usual. He unhooked it and placed it on Bonita's back, hooking it at her neck.
"Now you are crowned as the rightful heiress of the Stark family."
He stepped down. Everyone clapped and smiled.
"I thought there were chants or something," Cassian said, his voice low.
"It's not her birthday yet," Adrian replied.
Upstairs, in Star's room, her finger moved.