I shake my head, still laughing. “Figures. That little thief.”
Christian glances at me again, his smile lingering. “I gather you didn’t end up doing the project.”
“We didn’t even start it,” I admit.
“Yeah,” he says simply, as if that’s exactly what he expected.
I fold my arms, leaning back against the seat. “It was about the threats, but I’m sure you know that. You were just waiting for me to mention it.”
Christian doesn’t say anything to that one.
“He wants to know about his sister,” I say eventually, my voice quieter now.
Christian is silent for a moment, staring at the road ahead. “Does he?” he says, his tone unreadable.
“That’s what he said,” I reply. “But you know, he could be useful. Who am I not to acknowledge the mutual interests?”
Christian’s hands tighten slightly on the wheel before he says, almost abruptly, “It’s not your fault, Adeline.”
I blink, caught off guard. “What?”
“I think you know what I’m talking about,” he says, still not looking at me.
I swallow hard, my fingers starting to fidget with the hem of my coat. “I know it’s not.”
“Do you?” he asks, his voice steady but pointed.
The question shuts me up. I drop my gaze, my hands twisting together in my lap.
“Either way,” Christian says after a beat, his tone softer, “I just thought I should remind you. I figure your sisters give you enough hassle.”
I sigh, the tension in my chest easing just slightly. “Thank you.”
It’s quiet, but he hears it. Doesn’t say anything, just nods once, eyes still on the road. We lapse into silence again, one that stretches just a little too long and makes you feel like you should say something—anything—to break it.
“How long have you been living here?” I ask, glancing out the window as I speak.
Christian exhales, hands relaxing slightly on the wheel. “Years,” he says. “I was very fortunate that the Steeles agreed to take me in.”
“You and Kai,” I start, hesitating. “You must be close.”
Christian shifts his grip on the wheel. “We are. I owe him a lot.”
“You know, you two sound awfully similar.” I lean back in my seat, watching the blur of trees outside the window. “I guess the smart gene runs in the family.”
This time, he huffs out a sound that might be a laugh. “It’s not a gene.”
I glance over. He’s not looking at me.
“You work for it, or you don’t get it,” he says simply. “Obsession will always surpass talent.”
I blink, staring at him. “So, you’re saying you—”
Christian cuts me off. “You want to know why Kai is so brilliant? So talented? It’s not because he’s gifted. Or because he’s lucky.”
Something shifts in his expression, it’s subtle, but impossible to miss. And the calm in his voice frays, just slightly. “It’s because he’s driven. Because he’s mad with resentment.”
My breath catches. And just like that, I go still.
