Page 157 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
He made it.
The conversations around me fade to white noise as the bike gets closer, then cuts off somewhere near the front of the house.
Relief floods my system so fast it makes me dizzy. Eight hours of wondering if he was safe, if the job went sideways, if he'd get here at all. One miscalculation means never coming home. And now he's outside.
The doorbell rings.
Every conversation stops instantly.
My limbs refuse to cooperate, adrenaline making everything feel underwater. Mom rises to answer the door, her expression cycling through curiosity and barely contained excitement.
The front door opens, and Asher's voice carries clearly. "Good evening, Mrs. Reyes. My apologies for being so late."
Formal. Polite. But underneath that control, something else. The subtle edge that comes from recent violence, carefully hidden behind perfect manners.
"Asher!" Mom's voice pitches higher with delight. "Come in, come in! You're just in time for dessert."
The sound of his footsteps on our tile floor is measured, deliberate. Military bearing that cuts through the chaos of my family's energy like a blade through silk.
When he appears in the doorway, everything else ceases to exist.
Dark jeans and a button-down shirt the color of storm clouds. No visible signs of whatever work kept him away, but I know how to read the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze sweeps the room before finding mine.
Those dark brown eyes catch every detail, and right now they're focused entirely on me with an intensity that makes my heartbeat stumble. There's something predatory in the way he moves through space, something dangerous barely contained beneath that calm exterior.
"Sorry I'm late, little bunny." The nickname in front of my family makes heat crawl up my neck.
He moves through the maze of aunties and cousins with careful steps, a wrapped package balanced in his hands. Each step closer makes my breathing more erratic, my body recognizing his proximity like a prey animal sensing a predator. But instead of fear, there's something else. Something that makes heat pool low in my belly.
When he reaches me, the world narrows to just us. His clean peppermint and sandalwood scent cuts through the heavy aroma of Filipino cooking, but underneath it there's something else. Something metallic and dangerous that makes my pulse spike.
He places the wrapped package in my hands with his usual deliberate care, fingers brushing mine with enough pressure to make my breath catch.
"Happy birthday."
My fingers shake as I peel back the tape, hyperaware of every eye in the room watching. Inside the box: the latest RTX 4090 graphics card. The one that launched last week with a waitlist thousands deep.
My breath catches. "How did you—"
"I have my ways." His mouth twitches in that almost-smile that's become my favorite expression, but there's somethingdarker behind it. Methods and connections I can't even imagine. "Figured you could use the upgrade for your...projects."
He knows exactly what this means for my hacking work. He moved heaven and earth to get something impossible because he pays attention to what matters to me.
"I still don't understand why you waste your MIT education serving coffee," someone adds with that Filipino aunt judgment that could slice steel. "Such a smart girl, but what's the point if you don't use it?"
"She could have been a doctor like Miguel," another voice chimes in.
"Or an engineer like her cousin Robert."
"Instead she makes lattes for teenagers."
Each comment lands like a physical blow. My shoulders hunch, body instinctively trying to shrink away from their disappointment. The familiar shame claws through my chest: their American Dream daughter who picked the wrong path.
MIT scholarship wasted. Brilliant mind serving coffee. Another disappointment in the long line of ways I've failed them.
Asher's posture changes. Subtle, nothing my family would recognize, but I know that shift. The way a sniper goes still before taking a shot. The predator awakening, this time aimed protectively around me.
"Actually," his voice fills the room with quiet authority that makes every conversation die, "Vanessa isn't wasting anything."
