Page 9 of Isaia

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, heading straight for the living room, knowing he’ll follow. When Alexius waits for you the second you step into the house, you know it’s serious.

Nicoli’s already there, perched on the edge of the sofa, his sharp eyes sizing me up as I enter.

Caelian? He’s sprawled on the couch, lazily scrolling through his phone, like this is the most boring shit he’s had to deal with all week.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” he says without looking up.

“Save it.” I throw myself into an armchair across from Nicoli. “I’m not in the mood.”

Nicoli raises an eyebrow. “When are you ever?”

I sigh, knowing what’s coming. “If you’re all about to tell me I should’ve put it up to a vote before I decided to kill the child-kidnapper motherfucker, save your breath. I’ll shoot the lot of you, too.”

Alexius shakes his head. “Actually, I was about to say you made it way too easy for that bastard.”

I shrug. “Didn’t have time for theatrics.”

Alexius narrows his eyes, studying me like he’s searching for something deeper. I hate when he does that. “What?”

He crosses his arms. “Do we have a situation?”

I raise a brow. “A situation?”

Caelian, still scrolling, doesn’t even look up. “Yeah. A situation where we might be slightly fucked, fully fucked, or so fucked we’ll never get unfucked.”

I blink, unamused. “Will I be slightly or fully fucked if I walk out now and ignore whatever the hell you’re talking about?”

Caelian’s smirk widens, but his eyes stay glued to his phone. “Somewhere in between.”

“Who’s the girl?” Alexius cuts in.

“I don’t know,” I reply, trying to play it cool. “Ask Maximo. He’s the one who took the kid away.”

“Not that girl,” Alexius says, his gaze tightening. “The other one.”

“What other?—”

Maximo strolls in right then, and the pieces click.

I glare at him. “You saw?”

He crosses his arms and leans against the wall right next to a landscape painting—one of those overly serene, pastel scenes with calm lakes and mountains. Total bullshit.

The painting says ‘relax,’ but Maximo? He’s about as relaxing as a gun to the head.

He shrugs. “What can I say? You weren’t exactly subtle.”

“Her dog ran into me and I got tangled in its leash. What was I supposed to do, get knocked over in slow motion? Maybe throw in a graceful pirouette.” I snort. “Next time I’ll make sure I fall like an action hero—real subtle.”

Maximo grins. “Would’ve made my day.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Alexius presses, cutting through the banter. “Who is she?”

“Just a girl with a dog,” I say, and Caelian snorts.

“Sure. Because people just ‘run into’ us all the time, right? Must be our magnetic personalities.”

“Hey, sometimes they do,” I retort. “Some idiot walked right into me last week at some shitty bar downtown.”

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