“Are you okay?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Mia blinks, as if she just realized I was watching her. “What? Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
She’s lying. I know it, and she knows I know it.
Emma yanks my sleeve again, oblivious to the tension between the adults in the room. “Secret Agent Story, pleeeease.”
I glance back at Mia, who quickly looks away.
The girls cheer, jumping onto the couch. I start talking, but my focus is shot.
I force a smile, trying to make it sound like no big deal. “Actually, guys, I’ve got security stuff to handle. Why don't you ask your mom for stories instead?”
Emma groans, but it’s Ella’s reaction that gets me. She doesn’t argue, doesn’t pout. She just looks at me, her expression contemplative. Disappointed.
I swallow hard.
She’s a smart kid. Too smart. And she’s trying to figure out why I suddenly don’t want to be around them anymore.
I hate it.
But I know what I have to do.
Mia watches me, her expression unreadable, but I see the understanding in her eyes. She knows why I’m pulling away. She’s not going to fight me on it.
That makes it worse.
I clear my throat, give the twins a small salute, and turn away before I second-guess myself.
Before I make another mistake.
I take the late shift, volunteering for perimeter watch instead of my usual bedtime story duty. It’s better this way. Keeps my head clear. Keeps me from making choices I can’t take back.
The night is quiet, the safehouse wrapped in a blanket of stillness. Through the windows, I catch glimpses of the life unfolding inside.
Damon sits with the twins in the living room, Emma curled up against his side, Ella leaning in as he reads from a book. His face is softer than I’ve ever seen it. Nothing like the hardened leader I’ve followed in the past, the man who built a security empire from sheer force of will.
Something about the sight unsettles me.
In the kitchen, Mia and Zane sit across from each other, hands wrapped around mugs, their conversation low and easy. They don’t have to speak to fill the space between them. The way she leans just slightly in his direction, the way his gaze lingers on her—they look comfortable together. Intimate.
I exhale, my grip tightening around the railing. I wanted this distance, didn’t I?
So why does it feel like I’m being pushed out of something I didn’t even realize I wanted to be a part of?
My phone buzzes in my pocket, the vibration cutting through the quiet night. I pull it out, already knowing who it is before I check the screen.
Hey, got an opening in Dubai. Six-month contract. Private detail. High pay, low risk. You in?
I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.
Inside, Damon leans in as Ella whispers something in his ear. He grins and ruffles her hair. In the kitchen, Mia laughs softly at something Zane says, shaking her head as she sips her coffee.
A makeshift family. One I have no place in.
I swallow hard, looking away. Some lines aren’t meant to be crossed.
I type my response.
