Page 111 of The Silent War
Bastion smirked, “You think we’re that scary, baby?”
My stomach dipped.
Luca leaned closer, “We could control a whole city with our eyes.”
I didn’t doubt it. They’d already controlled me with a single look. More than once.
I didn’t say it out loud—but something in my face must’ve given me away. Because they both stared at me.
“What about you, how was your day?” Bastion brushed my hair back.
I gave them the curated answer: prep, photos, meetings. Brunch with Vivienne and Charlotte. But to be honest with them, I had to tell them the reason why we had brunch to begin with.
“And then I had a spa appointment.” I added.
Bastion’s fingers traced my shoulder. “Good. You need to relax.”
“It wasn’t relaxing. Not the way you think.”
They had been honest with me. I reminded myself before I was about to change the topic.
“It’s scheduled quarterly. A medical review. They call it awellness check, but it’s not. It’s a quality assessment. Higher-tier dynasty advisors meet us there. One-on-one appointments.”
My voice didn’t shake. It didn’t even soften.
“They draw blood. Check nutrient levels. Map hormone cycles. Full pelvic exam. Bone density, skin elasticity, vein response. They run a vocal stress test while you’re undressed to monitor neural patterns and spike response.”
Luca’s hand flexed on my thigh under the table.
“They check for internal bruising,” I added, tone matter-of-fact. “External too. They measure hip spread ratios against your predicted birth window.”
I looked down at my fork, still resting on them edge of my plate.
“They keep records.”
The silence that followed wasn’t normal silence. For once, they were the ones stunned.
So I shrugged. “You didn’t lie to me,” I said, still not looking up. “So I figured…”
I trailed off. Not because I was emotional. There was no emotion left in it. Just policy. Just my life.
“I figured I’d tell you.”
“You let them run diagnostics on you.” Bastion asked, his voice low.
I nodded. “It’s normal.”
Luca looked like he wanted to argue. But he didn’t. Because somewhere deep down, they knew.
They had told me about shootings, syndicate raids, cartel funnels—and they hadn’t blinked.
This was my version. Different battlefield. So I sipped my water. I wasn’t sure I could handle the wine tonight.
“Why do they even need that information?” Luca asked.
“They need it because it’s all relevant,” I turned slightly to met his eyes, “It’s how they plan legacy.”
Luca said nothing, but I could feel the tension. His fingers stayed still on my thigh.
