Morning light filtered through the tall windows of the Grimshaw mansion, pale gold against light marble floors.
For the first time in what felt like years, the mansion was quiet without tension.
Izana stood near the grand staircase, already dressed — black button-down, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal the faint scar along his wrist. He looked composed, as always.
But he wasn't thinking about territory.
Or rival families.
Or the summit.
He was thinking about last night.
About the tear.
About the way Leah had frozen when his hand rested on her stomach.
His jaw tightened faintly.
He had given her space.
But he would not ignore what he saw.
Footsteps echoed faintly behind him.
Elias.
Izana didn't turn immediately.
"Is she awake?" Izana asked calmly.
"Yes," Elias replied. "She's getting ready."
There was a brief pause.
Izana turned then, red eyes steady.
"Elias."
The single word was enough.
Elias straightened slightly.
"While I was gone," Izana said evenly, "did something happen to Leah?"
The question was direct.
Too direct.
Elias didn't answer immediately.
That was the mistake.
Izana saw it — the flicker. The hesitation. The way Elias's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Silence stretched.
"Elias."
"She was fine," Elias said carefully.
Izana's gaze sharpened.
"Define fine."
Elias exhaled quietly.
"She was just… sick. For a while."
The lie landed between them.
Not because of the words.
But because Elias did not meet his eyes when he said it.
Izana noticed everything.
The slight shift in posture.
The careful tone.
The avoidance.
"Sick," Izana repeated calmly.
"Yes."
"What kind of sick?"
Elias hesitated again — only a fraction of a second — but Izana caught it.
"Stress," Elias said. "You know how things were. Pressure from the families. From Caesar. It got to her."
Another lie.
Or at least — not the full truth.
Izana held his gaze for a long moment.
He could press.
He could demand.
He could order the truth out of him.
But he didn't.
Not here.
Not like this.
"I see," Izana said quietly.
Elias nodded once, relieved the questioning had stopped.
But Izana wasn't done thinking.
He just wasn't done here.
Footsteps sounded on the staircase.
Both men turned.
Leah descended slowly, one hand lightly resting on the railing.
And for a moment —
Everything else faded.
She wore something simple. Soft. Light. Her hair down. No formal elegance. No forced composure.
Just Leah.
Izana's expression shifted instantly.
The tension in his shoulders eased.
The suspicion in his eyes softened.
She reached the bottom step and paused.
"You're both staring," she said softly.
Elias cleared his throat. "I'll… give you two space."
He disappeared quickly.
Leah approached Izana.
"Is everything alright?" she asked.
"Yes," Izana replied smoothly.
It wasn't a lie.
Just incomplete.
He stepped closer.
"Are you ready?"
She nodded.
"I am."
There was a small smile on her lips — tentative, but real.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
Izana's mouth curved slightly.
Not the cold smirk the underworld feared.
A softer version.
"You'll see."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
She narrowed her eyes faintly, but amusement flickered there.
He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
The gesture was warm.
Unhurried.
His hand lingered lightly at her waist afterward.
"It's a surprise," he murmured.
Her heart fluttered — she tried not to show it too obviously.
He guided her toward the front doors, his hand resting protectively at the small of her back.
Outside, the car waited.
But there was no convoy.
No second vehicle.
No Dante.
No Elias.
No escort.
Leah noticed immediately.
"Where is everyone?" she asked quietly.
"At work," Izana replied.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"You're going out alone?"
"With you," he corrected.
"That's reckless."
He opened the passenger door for her.
"Only if someone is foolish enough to try something."
She studied him.
He wasn't being arrogant.
He was being certain.
Still, there was something almost freeing about it.
No shadows following them.
No men watching from a distance.
Just open air.
Izana helped her into the passenger seat, one hand steady against the door frame to ensure she didn't hit her head.
Small details.
He closed the door gently and moved to the driver's side.
Leah watched him through the windshield as he walked around the car.
There was something different about him today.
Less steel.
More intention.
He slid into the driver's seat and shut the door.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then he reached over.
Not for the ignition.
For her hand.
His fingers laced with hers naturally — as if they had never stopped.
He held it firmly.
Grounded.
Then he started the engine.
The gates of the estate opened slowly.
As they drove forward, Leah watched the mansion disappear in the rearview mirror.
It felt strange.
Good strange.
"You really didn't tell anyone where we're going?" she asked.
"No."
"That's not like you."
"I'm allowed one unpredictable decision."
She smiled faintly.
He drove with one hand steady on the wheel.
The other never left hers.
His thumb brushed lightly against her knuckles — absent-minded, but deliberate enough that she felt it.
The city began to unfold around them.
Traffic lights.
Shops.
Ordinary life.
Leah hadn't done this in years.
Not without guards.
Not without tension.
She looked at him.
"You're quiet," she said.
"I'm driving."
"You've driven before and still managed to talk."
His lips twitched faintly.
"I'm thinking."
"About?"
He glanced at her briefly.
"Today."
It wasn't entirely a lie.
She shifted in her seat, studying him.
There was something deeper behind his calm.
But she didn't push.
Not today.
She squeezed his hand instead.
"I'm glad you asked me out," she said softly.
He didn't look at her this time — but his grip tightened just slightly.
"You shouldn't be hidden in that house," he said. "Not because of me."
Her chest tightened at that.
"I wasn't hidden."
"You were waiting."
That hit closer than she expected.
She turned her gaze toward the window.
The car moved smoothly through the streets.
Wind brushed lightly against the vehicle.
For a moment, it felt like they were just—
Normal.
A man and a woman going somewhere unknown.
No bloodlines.
No empires.
No ghosts.
Izana slowed at a red light.
He lifted her hand slightly and pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles.
It was subtle.
Intimate.
His red eyes flickered toward her.
"Today," he said quietly, "there are no bosses. No rivals. No past."
Her breath caught faintly at that word.
Past.
He saw it.
That flicker in her expression.
Small.
Almost invisible.
But there.
His suspicion returned — not sharp, not accusatory — just present.
Something had happened.
Elias had lied.
Leah had cried.
And Izana Grimshaw did not ignore patterns.
But he would not ruin this day.
Not yet.
The light turned green.
He drove forward.
Still holding her hand.
And for the first time in two years —
They were alone.
Truly alone.
No shadows.
No witnesses.
Just the road ahead.
And whatever truth waited for them at the end of it.