Soft morning light filtered through the thin curtains of Stephanie's room, painting pale lines across the floor.
She sat on the edge of her bed, tablet balanced in her hands, eyes moving carefully through the schematics displayed on the screen. Tactical frameworks. Weapon ergonomics. Stress-point analysis. It was overwhelming—yet fascinating in a way she hadn't expected.
Stephanie exhaled slowly and locked the tablet.
Her head throbbed lightly.
'I need air.'
She stood, careful not to make a sound as she cracked her door open. Her mother's room was quiet—steady breathing, undisturbed sleep. Relief washed over her.
Stephanie slipped outside barefoot, the cool stone path sending a faint chill through her soles.
The compound was calm at this hour.
Too calm.
She inhaled deeply—and froze.
A figure moved along the curved road bordering the compound, footsteps steady, controlled. Not hurried. Not careless.
Riley Styles.
He was dressed simply—dark athletic wear, sleeves pushed up, rain-damp pavement beneath his shoes from the storm the night before. His breathing was measured, posture flawless, pace unwavering. Every movement carried discipline carved into muscle memory.
Not a man jogging.
A soldier maintaining routine.
Stephanie didn't know why her heart skipped.
She watched from the porch, unsure whether to retreat or announce herself. Riley slowed—not because he heard her, but because he sensed presence.
His gaze lifted.
Their eyes met.
For a brief second, neither spoke.
The distance between them felt heavier than it should have.
"Good morning," Stephanie said softly, breaking first.
Riley came to a stop, hands resting on his hips. His expression remained neutral, but his eyes sharpened—then softened, just a fraction.
"You're awake early," he said.
She gestured vaguely back toward the house. "Studying. I needed a break."
Riley nodded once, as if that explained everything.
Silence settled again—comfortable, strange.
"You don't sleep much," Stephanie added before she could stop herself.
Riley's gaze drifted briefly toward the horizon. "Habit."
She hesitated. "From the military?"
"Yes."
One word. Final.
Yet he didn't walk away.
Instead, he glanced at the tablet tucked under her arm. "Head of Tactical Design isn't light reading."
Stephanie gave a small, nervous smile. "I noticed."
Something unreadable flickered across Riley's face.
"Don't force it," he said. "Understanding comes faster when you stop trying to impress anyone."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Including you?"
Riley paused—just long enough for the question to land.
"Especially me."
Then he stepped back, resuming his jog.
"Breakfast in an hour," he added without turning around. "Ethan insists."
"Huh?"Stephanie muttered in surprise, but it was already too late.
As Stephanie watched him disappear down the path, heart oddly unsteady.
'Seems like I can't refuse the offer' she thought wryly.
She hadn't asked for this life.
But somehow…
It had already begun asking for her.
After a couple of minutes later....
The smell of frying eggs and warm bread filled the small kitchen.
Stephanie moved carefully, mindful of the quiet morning. She glanced once toward her mother's room before packing a small box of fried eggs and bread.
"Aren't you done yet?" she called softly.
Her mother emerged moments later, wrapped in a light shawl, eyes brighter than they had been in days. She smiled at the sight of the small box Stephanie prepared.
"It's been a while since we were invited for breakfast dear," she said warmly.
Stephanie smiled back. "Let's enjoy it while we can."
But suddenly...
A knock sounded at the door.
Stephanie frowned. "I wonder who might that be."
She opened it to find Taylor standing there, holding a small grocery bag and wearing a casual smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I figured you might need more bread," he said. But then, he noticed how well dressed Stephanie and her mum is, which prompted him to ask.
"Are you guys going somewhere?"
Her mother's expression softened immediately. "Taylor, you're always so thoughtful."
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I try."
Stephanie hesitated. "We're having breakfast at Riley's place."
Taylor paused.
"…At his house?"
"It's just breakfast," she said quickly. "Ethan invited us."
Taylor nodded, though something tightened behind his eyes. "Then I'll walk you there."
"Thanks dear" Stephanie's mum replied with a light smile on her face. Seeing that expression lightened the burden that was on Taylor's heart.
And so, the trio left the house.
Although the walk was quiet.
Too quiet.
Riley's residence loomed ahead—clean lines, tall gates, armed guards positioned with calm precision. The difference between the two houses was impossible to ignore.
As they approached, one of the guards stepped forward.
"Ms. Rogers," he said respectfully. "Good morning."
She nodded. "Good morning."
The guard's gaze shifted to Taylor. "I'll need you to remain here, sir."
Taylor blinked. "But I'm with them."
"He's my friend," Stephanie added quickly. "He's helped my family a lot."
The guard didn't waver. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Access is restricted."
Taylor forced a small laugh. "Come on, I'm not dangerous."
The guard met his eyes calmly. "That's not how clearance works."
Silence fell.
Stephanie looked between them, discomfort twisting in her chest. "I'll talk to Riley—"
"It's fine," Taylor said quickly, stepping back. "Really. I'll wait."
Her mother touched his arm gently. "Thank you, dear."
Taylor nodded, eyes fixed on the gates as they opened.
Stephanie glanced back once more before stepping inside.
The gates closed with a quiet finality, while the bodyguard s resumed their previous positions.
As for Taylor, he stood there alone, the sound echoing louder than it should have.
He hadn't expected it to hurt like this.
Not the guards.
Not the house.
But how easily she'd walked into a world he couldn't follow.
But after staying their in quiet solitude for a few minutes, he suddenly clenched his fists as he looked at Riley's residence one final time, before he suddenly turned and walked away with his posture upright.
But he didn't know that from high up Riley's residence, one of his balcony in specific, Ethan could actually be seen there, staring at Taylor as he walks away. And after a light smirk appeared on his face, he walked back into the residence.