Chapter Two-hundred Ninety: Unwelcome Surprises

Chapter 290

Unwelcome Surprises

While Lena was busy doing the dishes in the kitchen—wearing a knee-length, off-shoulder blue floral dress underneath a white apron—Jaxon and Jordi spent the afternoon relaxing on the sofa watching TV. Resting his head on Jordi’s lap, Jaxon was dressed in a red tiger-striped button-down shirt paired with tight black jeans and sheer black socks. Jordi sat beside him, wearing a yellow button-down shirt, jeans, and black sheer socks.

The chime of the doorbell rang through the house.

Lena: “Jordi, would you get the door?”

Jordi: “Sure!”

He got up from the sofa and went to answer it, opening the door to find a delivery person holding a plain white box.

Delivery: “Delivery for Lena Vaquero!”

The delivery person smiled and handed over a sleek, unbranded white box neatly wrapped with a pink ribbon. Jordi signed the clipboard, thanked them, and closed the door.

Carrying the package back into the living room, he set it on the island just as Lena walked in, wiping her hands on her apron. Her eyes lit up with curiosity when she saw the package waiting for her.

Lena reached out, untied the pink ribbon, and lifted the lid. Inside rested a stunning, exquisitely decorated cake covered in pink and purple frosting, edible glitter, and adorned with delicate sugar butterflies that looked almost ready to take flight. Written across the center in elegant pink cursive frosting were the words, “Welcome to your new home, Lena!” A bright smile lit up her face as she gasped in delight. Jordi leaned over from the sofa, his eyes widening in awe as he admired the beautiful creation.

Noticing a small, elegant card tucked beside the base of the cake, Lena carefully picked it up and opened it. Reading the handwritten message inside, her smile widened even more.

Jaxon: “Who’s it from?”

He asked, leaning forward from the couch.

Lena looked up at her brother and Jaxon and held out the card.

Lena: “It’s from Ashley and Madelyn!”

She said warmly. Jordi forced a smile and rubbed the back of his head. Jaxon immediately darkened.

Jordi: “Well, it’s nice of them to do this for you.”

He said with a strained smile.

Jaxon folded his arms in front of his chest.

Jaxon: “Why is that fat bitch sending shit to MY house?!”

He snapped. Lena knit her eyebrows and clutched the card close to her chest.

Jordi: “Relax, Jiro, it isn’t even meant for me! Ashley was just trying to do something sweet for Lena.”

He explained, raising his hands in defense.

Jaxon, still furious, shoved himself up off the sofa and marched over to the kitchen island. Without a word of hesitation, he grabbed the cake box and tipped it straight into the trash can, letting the decorated cake slam against the bottom.

Lena: “Jaxon! Stop!”

Lena gasped, rushing forward, but it was already too late. She looked down at the ruined cake in shock. Jordi stood up from the couch, staring at Jaxon with wide eyes and a disbelieving look.

Jordi: “Jiro, what is wrong with you? They spent time making that for Lena!”

Jaxon looked at him with tears in his eyes.

Jaxon: “You still have feelings for that fat BITCH!”

Without waiting for a response, Jaxon turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen. His heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway as he marched toward his bedroom. He reached his room, shoved the door open, stepped inside, and slammed it shut with a deafening bang that shook the frame, leaving Jordi and Lena standing in stunned, tense silence in the living room.

Jordi: “Lena, I am so sorry, I—”

He said gently. Lena looked at her older brother with tears in her eyes. Jordi wrapped his arms around her.

Lena: “He always did this, Jordi! He always bullied them! That was something they did for me!”

She sobbed.

Jordi held her close, slowly rubbing her back in soothing circles as her shoulders shook against his chest. He rested his chin lightly atop her head, letting out a soft sigh filled with quiet understanding.

Jordi: “I know... I know. It really was such a sweet thing for Ashley and Madelyn to do, and you had every right to be excited about it, regardless of how Ashley and I left things. I don’t want you to feel you can’t be their friend because of me.”

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands to wipe away a stray tear with his thumb, meeting her eyes with a warm, comforting smile.

Jordi: “Don’t let Jiro ruin this for you, all right? Tell you what—tomorrow, you and I can go out and get whatever dessert you want. Anything you like. How does that sound?”

Lena sniffled, looking up at him before offering a small, grateful nod as she leaned back into his shoulder, finding solace in her older brother’s gentle presence.

~

After consoling Lena, Jordi excused himself and walked down the quiet hallway toward the bedroom. He reached out, gently turned the door handle, and pushed the door open without making a sound.

Inside, Jaxon was lying on the bed, facing away from the door with his back to Jordi. He had his knees pulled up slightly, arms crossed over his chest, and his shoulders rigid, clearly pouting in silent frustration after his angry outburst. Jordi softly closed the door behind him and stood near the bed, looking down at his boyfriend.

Jordi: “Jiro, what was that about? Ashley didn’t send that cake to me. My name wasn’t mentioned once. They sent that to Lena.”

He chided him.

Jaxon: “Bullshit! That fatass is using her to get to you! She always wanted you!”

He sobbed. Jordi sat on the edge of the bed.

Jordi: “No, Jiro, I am one hundred percent certain that Ashley wants nothing to do with me. If they did this for an ulterior motive, they would have come with the cake themselves.”

He drew a long breath.

Jordi: “Ashley doesn’t send people to deliver their food; they prefer to deliver it in person…”

His eyelids dipped.

Jordi: “...They don’t want to see me.”

He said flatly.

Jaxon: “Why are you upset when her name is mentioned?”

He sobbed.

Jordi: “Because I regret letting it progress to the point it did. I regret not telling them I didn’t love them, and I was kind to them because they’re my friend, but that old bastard made me feel lonelier than I was…”

He pursed his lips.

Jordi: “And I regret that I ruined our friendship. I never had romantic feelings for them. They never even… told me goodbye to my face. I had to find a note.”

He ran his hand through his hair.

Jordi: “This is how much they don’t want to see me.”

After speaking, Jordi pulled up next to Jaxon on the bed, wrapping his arms around him and spooning him close.

Jaxon: “Your friendship with Tristan is better.”

He pouted.

Jordi: “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t regret how things ended between Ashley and me. I don’t want Lena to feel she can’t be their friend because of me.”

He buried his head into his soft mane of black hair. Jaxon smiled a bit and closed his eyes.

Jaxon: “She can’t find better friends?”

He murmured, nestling into Jordi’s embrace.

Jordi: “That’s not our call to make, Jiro, but it doesn’t change how I feel for you.”

He trailed his fingers through his soft red-black hair.

~

Unable to stay in her house with the lingering tension with Jaxon, Lena slipped out the front door. Tears streamed down her face as she walked across the street toward Fabien and Celeste's house. Stepping onto the porch, she knocked on the door, sniffling and trying to wipe away her tears.

The front door swung open a moment later, revealing Fabien standing in the doorway. Dressed in jeans, a red flannel shirt over a black tank top printed with “Nuklear Intoxication SUCKS,” and bare feet, his eyes widened in instant concern at the sight of Lena weeping on the porch.

Fabien: “Lena? What’s wrong? What happened?”

He stepped aside to let her in.

Lena: “It’s JAXON!”

She sobbed. Fabien tried to hide his smirk when he knew she was having trouble with Jaxon.

Fabien: “What did Jiro do now?”

He tried to hide his laughter.

Lena: “Ashley and Madelyn sent a pretty butterfly cake to my new house, and he trashed it because he thinks Jordi has feelings for them.”

She sobbed into her hands.

He shook his head with a heavy sigh and opened his arms to offer her a comforting hug.

Lena leaned into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and burying her face against his shoulder. As she held him, she inhaled deeply, catching the comforting, warm scent of his cologne. Fabien gently wrapped his arms around her back, resting his hand reassuringly against her shoulder as she took a moment to compose herself.

Fabien: “Ah, Lena... I’m sorry… Jiro always uses any opportunity to throw his tantrums when things don’t go his way. Let’s come into the living room and talk about it.”

He replied.

Lena: “He always does this! When I liked Jaxon, he always bullied them for no reason! I should’ve known it was because of Jordi! Ashley made that cake for ME! They want NOTHING to do with Jordi, and it’s not getting through to Jaxon!”

She cried. Fabien sat on the couch, and Lena joined him.

Fabien: “That’s Jiro for you! If it got through all that hairspray, what would he throw a tantrum about?”

He laughed and threw his arms up.

Fabien: “Jiro, the heartbreaker and also an insecure asshat. If he’s jealous of her, I don’t know what to tell you. May as well be jealous of Blair.”

He scoffed.

As Fabien leaned back on the couch, Lena's eyes drifted downward toward his bare feet resting on the rug. She watched closely as his toes flexed slightly, curling against the soft fabric before fanning out and wiggling comfortably. The relaxed motion caught her attention, offering a nice distraction.

A soft, slightly bashful blush crept onto her cheeks, contrasting with the playful smirk on her lips.

Lena: “You have… You have nice feet!”

She blurted, her cheeks burning a little warmer as she twirled a strand of purple hair around her finger. Fabien turned to her and gaped at her, a smile tugging at his lips.

Lena: “Most guys’ feet are completely wrecked or calloused, but yours are really soft. And neat.”

Fabien let out a low, breathless scoff, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward into an involuntary, flattered smirk.

Fabien: “Well, thank you, I suppose.”

He muttered. He ran a hand through his white hair, shaking his head with a faint chuckle.

Fabien: “Can’t get enough of that set, huh?”

He teased, wiggling his toes.

Lena: “Ever think of modeling your feet?”

She asked, examining his ivory feet.

Fabien: “I did for some pin-ups for Danny Donger’s, but like… what Jiro did or does for Sole Desire? Yes, I do.”

He beamed.

Lena: “Would you be okay with tickling?”

She giggled.

Fabien’s eyes widened slightly in comical panic, and he immediately yanked his feet back onto the couch. A startled laugh burst from his chest, his smirk widening into a nervous, playful grin.

Fabien: “Whoa, absolute no! Not a chance, Lena!”

He chuckled, raising a hand defensively while shaking his head.

Fabien: “My feet are completely off-limits. They are ridiculously ticklish—like, deadly ticklish. You touch them, and I might accidentally kick a hole through the ceiling.”

Unable to resist the temptation, Lena gave in to her playful mood and lunged forward, pressing her fingers right against his arches.

Fabien: “HEY! WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!”

He squealed out loud, thrashing his legs frantically as uncontrollable laughter erupted from his chest. He tried desperately to pull his feet back out of reach, but Lena wiggled her fingers along his soles, mercilessly tickling every sensitive spot.

Fabien: “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!! LENAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!”

He wheezed, gasping for air as he squirmed on the couch, unable to stop laughing.

Not stopping there, Lena shifted her hands, wiggling her fingertips upward to focus directly on the bottoms of his bare toes. She scribbled her nails playfully across the undersides of his toes, tracing light, energetic circles over the soft pads.

Fabien: “NOOOOHOHOHOHOHO!! LENA, PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHA!!”

Fabien shrieked, his voice cracking into high-pitched, breathy wheezes. His whole body buckled as he squirmed helplessly on the sofa cushions, his toes curling tightly in a futile attempt to shield them from her ruthless attack.

Lena: “You said your feet were deadly ticklish, so I have to test it!”

She giggled, keeping up the relentless scribbling against his wriggling toes.

Fabien: “I—HAHAHAHA!—I WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHASN’T LYING! WAHAHAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

He gasped out between bursts of hysterical laughter, tossing his head back against the couch cushions.

Finally, Lena pulled her hands back with a satisfied giggle, letting her fingers rest in her lap. Fabien instantly collapsed against the sofa cushions, chest heaving as he gasped for air and tried to catch his breath. He raised one arm over his eyes and used his hand to wipe tears of laughter from his eyes, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.

Fabien: “You’re relentless, Lena…”

wheezed, a breathless grin breaking across his face as the remaining tension dissolved into easy, lighthearted comfort.

~

The afternoon heat hung thick and suffocating over the estate in Clerteaux, scented with sun-baked stone, chlorine, and the bruised sweetness of blooming bougainvillea. Looking down through a riot of magenta petals and tangled greenery.

At its heart lay the pool—a basin of brilliant, crystalline turquoise that captured the midday sun in shimmering, fractured ribbons. Beneath the water’s trembling surface, intricate gold-and-cobalt mosaic tiles formed sprawling imperial crests, their colors wavering in the light like sunken treasure resting on the floor of a shallow lagoon. Flanking the far perimeter rose an opulent wall of neoclassical stonework, adorned with fluted columns, weathered balustrades, and deeply recessed niches that echoed the decadence of a Mediterranean villa.

From the central alcove, a newly wrought stone fountain broke the quiet air. Carved figures, moss-dusted and half-lost to shadow, poured arching streams of cool water from tiered basins, their gentle cascades churning into pale plumes of foam as they met the pool below. The sound of the continuous spilling water was a soothing, rhythmic murmur against the drowsy hum of the cicadas nestled high in the towering palm canopy.

Along the mosaic-lined terrace, weathered urns mounted on heavy pedestals kept silent vigil, their carved stone faces warmed by the relentless sun. In the far corner, a whitewashed rotunda stood tucked beneath the palms, sheer white curtains motionless in the arched breezeway, hinting at cool retreats away from the blinding daylight. It was a place engineered entirely for indulgence—an isolated paradise where time slowed to the steady, hypnotic cadence of falling water and sunlit ripples.

Narcisse walked outside dressed in a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paired with lavender trousers and white loafers. Nearby, Charlotte reclined on a lounge chair, engrossed in a book while a cup of tea rested on the table beside her. She wore a blue strapless one-piece swimsuit and a wide light-blue sunhat decorated with white roses.

Narcisse stood gazing at the pool and then at his older sister.

Narcisse: “So, Charlotte…”

He began.

Narcisse: “Victor thinks he can just move on from us. His behemoth of a boyfriend plans to propose to him on his birthday.”

He added as his jaw tightened. Charlotte sipped on her tea.

Charlotte: “So in February.”

Narcisse shook his head.

Narcisse: “No, not Victor’s birthday, the fatass’s. It’s on October fourth.”

He corrected her and chuckled bitterly.

Narcisse: “Victor… is still married to you—and us. He can’t do this.”

He said with a strained smile.

Charlotte: “He’s married to me, not US.”

She said sharply. Narcisse turned to her; his face flickered with bewilderment.

Narcisse: “Charlotte, I was there…”

Charlotte: “You were the best man.”

She glared at him. Narcisse gaped at her and tightened his fist behind his back.

Charlotte: “It doesn’t matter. Victor can have who he likes, and if you want him, you can have him. You always liked him more than I ever did.”

She said coldly. Narcisse’s jaw tightened.

Narcisse: “Charlotte, we made vows… and Tristan is very powerful.”

He added.

Charlotte: “Tristan is a disappointment, not unlike his father.”

Narcisse twisted his mouth, trying to control his rage.

Narcisse: “...Why do I need to subdue him to touch his soft, beautiful body and caress him if he’s not powerful?”

He challenged, with his vein throbbing on his forehead.

Narcisse: “My God, his feet are flawless and not stinky at all! I really felt…”

He clasped his hand on his chest as he heaved.

Narcisse: “A tightness in my pants when I saw those midgets tickling his slender feet.”

Charlotte: “Then he and his father are yours, Narcisse. I have no interest in that family.”

She spat dismissively.

Narcisse pivoted to glare at her, his anger boiling over.

Narcisse: “Well, Charlotte, when I had my naughty little nephew in the swan boat, I saw Father’s pocket watch clipped to his waistcoat.”

He said through clenched teeth. Charlotte paused and stopped reading.

Charlotte: “Papa…”

She murmured.

Charlotte: “He would be disappointed in Tristan…”

She sighed. Narcisse gaped at her.

Narcisse: “Why on Reona would HE be disappointed in his ‘prince’?”

He said acidly.

Charlotte: “Because he’s not living up to the standards.”

She said tersely.

Narcisse: “Charlotte, he is more powerful than you will ever be, and do you know who else is? I am.”

He grinned tightly at her. Charlotte glared at him.

Narcisse: “While you were flitting around like ‘oh, look at me, Papa, I am so pretty for you!’ ”

He mocked her in a singsong cadence before leveling a fierce scowl in her direction.

Narcisse: “I was hunting, and I was training! You couldn’t handle your own with Tristan and his little friends, but they struggle with me!”

He barked at her.

Narcisse: “And remember who put you in that hyperbaric chamber, dear sister; it wasn’t Santa Claus!”

He leaned closer, his voice booming with contempt. Charlotte bared her teeth at him.

She rose, hand raised, frost developing over it. In a second, a purple bubble swallowed her up.

Charlotte: “What the?! NARCISSE! RELEASE ME!”

She snapped.

Narcisse: “Charlotte, your only talent is dancing and being pretty for our father… I guess you’re right; you’d best leave my naughty little nephew and his dimwitted friends to the hunter.”

He chuckled. Charlotte pounded on the surface.

Narcisse: “Victor will not marry that fat oaf. We are going to be a happy family.”

He gave a mocking grin, nodding to himself in satisfaction.

With a flick of his wrist, Narcisse guided the shimmering purple bubble upward. The translucent sphere lifted Charlotte high into the afternoon air, drifting slowly past the magenta bougainvillea and tall palm fronds until it hovered directly over the center of the crystalline turquoise pool.

Inside the sphere, Charlotte pounded her fists against the glowing barrier, her wide sunhat shifting as she glared down at her brother.

Charlotte: “Narcisse! Lower me this instant! Don’t you dare!”

She demanded, her voice muffled through the energy barrier.

Narcisse strolled toward the edge of the stone terrace, adjusting his cuffs with a light, amused scoff. He looked up at his floating sister, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Narcisse: “As you wish, dear sister. Let’s see if a splash of cool water clears your head.”

With a subtle motion of his hand, the purple bubble burst into a cloud of faint violet sparks.

Charlotte let out a sharp gasp as gravity took over. She plunged downward, crashing straight into the deep end of the pool with a massive splash that sent plumes of foaming water high into the air.

A moment later, Charlotte broke the surface, gasping for air. Her wide, light-blue sunhat floated ruined beside her, and her hair clung wetly to her face and shoulders. Spluttering, she wiped the water from her eyes and glared up at Narcisse on the terrace with pure venom.

Charlotte: “NARCISSE!”

She spat, her voice echoing off the neoclassical stonework.

Narcisse merely chuckled, wiping a tiny stray droplet from his lavender trousers before turning back toward the estate.

Narcisse: “Do enjoy your swim, Charlotte.”

~

Later that evening, a gentle breeze swept through Fabien and Celeste’s quiet backyard. On the patio, a cozy fire roared inside the sun chiminea, casting a warm orange glow and dancing shadows across the stone pavers beneath the night sky.

Celeste and Fabien sat snuggled comfortably together on the patio furniture, wrapped in the quiet stillness of the night. Fabien held a cold bottle of beer in one hand, took relaxed, deliberate drags from a cigarette, and exhaled light curls of smoke into the cool air, while Celeste rested her head contentedly against him. Dressed in a jean skirt paired with a black off-shoulder sweater, she gently rubbed her bare feet against Fabien’s. He spread his toes and rubbed his feet over hers.

Fabien: “So, Lena came over distraught.”

He began, inhaling a drag from his cigarette.

Celeste: “Why?”

Fabien: “Jiro destroyed a cake that Fatley and Butter Fairy gave her.”

He blew a plume of smoke into the air.

Celeste: “Why did Jax do that?”

She trailed her nails over his chest. Fabien shivered.

Fabien: “Because he’s an insecure asshat. He and Fatley are the only two people on this planet who believed Jordi loved her. Everyone else knew Jordi never loved her; she was another one to fill in the void.”

He scoffed and flicked ashes into the ashtray.

Fabien raised the glass bottle to his lips, taking a slow, refreshing sip of the crisp beer. He let the cool liquid wash over his palate before swallowing, savoring the peaceful warmth of the roaring fire beside them. Setting the bottle down on the side table with a faint clink, he leaned back into the soft cushions of the patio chair. He twisted his mouth when a thought crossed his mind.

Fabien: “So, Fatley sent a cake to Lena for settling into Jordi and Jiro’s place…”

He began and looked down at Celeste.

Fabien: “She didn’t send one to you when you moved in with me… or any cake.”

He added. Celeste merely shrugged.

Celeste: “I always thought they liked Lena more than me, Fab. That’s okay. She bakes and Ashley bakes, and both like traditional stuff.”

She looked up at Fabien, gazing into his green eyes.

Celeste: “Why does that bother you, Fab?”

She said softly. Fabien glanced down at her.

Fabien: “How can you be… okay with all this? Her flaking out on you for a fat weirdo and not making a cake or anything for you?”

Fabien looked down at her, a sharp edge to his voice even as true curiosity showed through.

Celeste: “Because… I’m going to have to be okay with it. Why get angry about it? The friendship just… died. I can’t get along with Madelyn. I didn’t like how she treated Jordi, and she’s too weird. She reminds me of Lazaros and Blair. I don’t want to ruin that for Ashley. I don’t want to fight about it. I hope they finally found happiness.”

She replied.

Celeste: “And I don’t wanna fight for something I don’t want myself. I ain’t upset they made a cake for Lena. I have my own money, and I can buy my own cake.”

She added for good measure.

Celeste: “It just… I dunno. Things changed after Oakhaven. I just hope they’re happy.”

She nestled closer to him. Fabien put his arm around her.

Fabien tipped his head back, draining the remaining drops of cold beer from the bottle in one long gulp. He set the empty glass bottle down on the side table with a firm clink, then leaned forward toward the stone ashtray. With a slow twist of his wrist, he pressed the glowing tip of his cigarette firmly against the glass surface, grinding out the embers until the last thin wisp of smoke dissipated into the crisp night air.

Fabien: “I just realized something…”

He picked up the empty beer bottle, pulled his arm back, and tossed it high over the wooden fence into Jaclyn’s yard, listening for the faint thud as it landed in the grass.

Fabien: “When Jordi dated Butter Fairy, that’s when he started ignoring me, and he blocked me on Bungle… When Fatley dates her, she ignores you.”

He looked down at Celeste. She shrugged slightly.

Celeste: “Well, Fab, that’s not my problem. If Ashley has an issue, I guess they will stay with her as they did with Lazaros.”

She drawled.

Fabien: “Just an observation.”

Celeste shifted slightly against Fabien, a playful glint in her eyes as she glanced up at him. Without warning, she reached up and began lightly fluttering her fingertips along the sensitive side of his neck, tracing soft, feather-light circles against his skin.

Fabien instantly gasped, a sharp laugh escaping his throat as his shoulders bunched up toward his ears in a desperate attempt to shield his neck.

Fabien: “Hey! Celeste, wait—HAHAHAHAHA!! Don’t start!”

He wheezed out, squirming back against the patio cushions as her fingers wiggled mercilessly against his collarbone and neck.

Fabien: “Celeste! Hahahahaha! Don’t!”

Celeste giggled and leaned over, shifting her focus from his neck down to his midsection. She began lightly wiggling her fingertips along his ribs before digging them playfully into his sides and tummy.

Fabien: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! CELESTE, NO! OHOHOHOHOHO!!”

He shrieked, instantly curling into a tight ball on the lounge. He thrashed his legs frantically, his whole body buckled as he squirmed helplessly under her energetic scribbling. Uncontrollable, breathless wheezes and bursts of hysterical laughter tore from his throat as he tried to block her hands with his elbows. Still, Celeste easily bypassed his defenses, mercilessly tickling every sensitive spot along his torso.

Fabien: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

He wheezed, gasping for air as tears of laughter spilled down his cheeks. Relenting with a triumphant chuckle, Celeste finally pulled her hands back and settled against his side. Fabien collapsed flat against the cushions, his chest heaving as he wiped his eyes and caught his breath.

Celeste softly smiled, looking down at Fabien as his laughter subsided. Moving in close, she gently cupped his cheeks with both hands, her thumbs tenderly caressing his face. Leaning over him, she pressed her lips against his in a deep, passionate kiss. He closed his eyes and welcomed the kiss, pulling her body closer.

After a long moment, they slowly broke the kiss, breathing softly against each other's lips as Celeste rested her forehead against his. Fabien looked up into her eyes, a warm, gentle smile softening his features.

Fabien: “I love you, Celeste.”

He murmured, cupping the side of her face as the quiet crackle of the fire filled the night around them.

Celeste: “I love you, too, Fabien.”

~

Later that night, Tristan was resting comfortably on the soft sofa in his bedroom. Dressed in elegant silver silk pajamas, his long white hair hung loose and silky over his shoulders, reflecting the dim, warm light of the bedside lamp. He was quietly immersed in a book, taking occasional slow sips from a steaming cup of chamomile tea resting on the small side table next to him.

The quiet stillness of the room was broken as Oliver, his sleek harlequin tuxedo cat, trotted inside. Carrying a surprisingly large dead mouse proudly in his jaws, the cat padded across the carpet with his head held high. With a soft mww, Oliver deposited his trophy directly beside Tristan’s sofa, sitting back onto his haunches and looking up with bright, expectant eyes.

Tristan set his teacup and book on the table, then looked down at the unexpected offering. A mixture of fond amusement and mild exasperation crossed his features as he let out a faint, quiet sigh.

Tristan: “Oh, Oliver... Quite the hunter, aren’t you? How did that get inside?”

He murmured gently, reaching down to stroke the cat behind his ears. Oliver purred loudly, leaning into the affection. Tristan smiled faintly, eyeing the giant mouse with a thoughtful frown as he considered how best to dispose of Oliver’s generous gift.

Reaching down, Tristan carefully picked up the dead mouse by its tail to inspect it. As he turned it over, his brows furrowed in immediate concern. Strapped to the underside of the rodent was a miniature, high-tech listening device. Positioned right beside it was a familiar sharp, two-inch microchip—the same mind control device he had dislodged from the neck of the DashDish delivery boy at Erin’s apartment. Tristan’s eyes narrowed into a dangerous, icy glare as he held the creature, immediately realizing that Narcisse was behind this and was using the animal to spy on him.